The world felt like a migraine.
Maverick groaned, dragging himself upright on the edge of the bed. The sheets were a mess. His clothes were scattered across the floor. A red heel lay sideways near the door, and Rose's lipstick was smudged across the pillow beside him like a crime scene.
His head throbbed.
Too much wine. Too much drama. Too much Rose.
He didn't even remember falling asleep — only the sound of her laughing after pulling him back into her bed, whispering about how Catherine was "finally out of the way."
He reached for his phone and squinted at the time. 9:48 AM.
"Shit."
He had a meeting at ten-thirty — and not just with anyone.
Collin Cooper.
He didn't know him personally. Never met. But everyone knew the Cooper name. Their company didn't just compete — they owned half the damn market. Collin was rumored to be cold, brilliant, and as untouchable as his father.
The last thing Maverick wanted was to screw up in front of someone that powerful.
He dragged himself into the shower, cursing the fog in his head. As the water hit his face, images from the night before crept back in: Rose's moans, her nails clawing down his chest, the photo she sent to Catherine — the one that ended it all.
He didn't even remember giving her permission.
Did it matter?
He stared at the water running down the drain, and for the first time in weeks, he felt something like regret. But not deep enough to pull him out. Not yet.
He pulled on a crisp navy suit, adjusted his tie, and grabbed his tablet from the table. The company proposal file was loaded and ready.
But his hands still trembled slightly.
Not from nerves. From knowing he was walking into a meeting with a man who had no idea that they both stood in the same storm — and that one of them was the reason the other bled.
The Conference Room — Extended
The sleek conference room was built to impress — high ceilings, minimalist decor, and an entire wall of windows that framed the city like a painting. But the real tension wasn't in the view.
It was seated across the table.
Collin didn't speak right away when Maverick entered the room. His fingers paused over the folder in front of him, and his eyes locked onto the man walking in with polished shoes, an expensive watch, and a face Collin had seen before.
Not in person.
In that photo.
The one Catherine had stared at with hollow eyes and trembling hands. The man tangled up in lust and betrayal. The one she whispered about after midnight like a ghost she couldn't shake.
Maverick.
The name Catherine had said so softly, brokenly, just hours ago: "Maverick... how could you?"
And now here he was — in a suit, in his conference room, talking numbers like they were supposed to matter.
Collin's jaw tensed.
He remembered every line of that face. Not because it was impressive — but because it had been etched into pain.
So when Maverick extended a confident hand and said, "Mr. Cooper, thank you for your time," Collin didn't shake it.
He simply nodded, gesturing to the seat across from him.
No pleasantries.
Just war in disguise.
Maverick sat across from him, legs crossed, posture straight. Confident. Too confident.
His voice was smooth, almost rehearsed. "We believe this partnership will offer a fresh expansion model for both companies. Our team has identified three major pain points in your vertical, and we've mapped a plan to address each."
Collin didn't look up. "You're two quarters behind your projections."
Maverick faltered — just a beat.
"Our analysts have already adjusted for that in Q3. We've had internal restructures—"
"I read the restructuring memo," Collin interrupted, finally raising his eyes. "You cut 30% of your operations team and funneled capital into a marketing rebrand. Risky."
There was no aggression in his tone. Just facts. Delivered with the calm precision of a man who had no time for surface-level charm.
Maverick leaned forward slightly, trying to recover the ground. "It's a short-term gamble with long-term returns. Our numbers will prove it."
Collin sipped his coffee and gave a small, deliberate nod. "Maybe."
Maverick tried again, smiling now. "It's an honor, honestly. Meeting you. Your company's reputation speaks for itself."
Collin met his gaze.
"Yours too."
Maverick grinned, mistaking it for praise.
Collin didn't blink. "Though not always in the ways one hopes."
The grin faded.
There it was — a crack in the armor.
And Collin wasn't done.
He closed the folder, leaned back in his chair, and finally let his voice soften — but only slightly. "Tell me, Maverick… do you usually come to high-stakes meetings after partying all night?"
Maverick's shoulders stiffened. "I— Sorry, is there—?"
"You smell like bourbon and regret," Collin said quietly, setting the folder aside. "Next time, try peppermint and punctuality."
A flicker of frustration crossed Maverick's face, but he masked it quickly.
"This meeting was confirmed late, Mr. Cooper. I had prior obligations—"
"Mm," Collin hummed. "I imagine you did."
There was a pause. One long enough to feel like ice sliding between them.
And Maverick — for the first time — began to sense something else.
This wasn't just business.
This was personal.
He didn't know how.
He didn't know why.
But the room had shifted.
Collin's next words were casual — too casual. "Do you know a woman named Catherine?"
Silence.
Maverick's throat tightened. "What?"
"Catherine," Collin repeated. "I was just curious. Common name. Could've sworn I heard it mentioned yesterday."
Maverick's poker face cracked — just for a moment — but Collin caught it.
Of course he did.
Collin's tone stayed calm, but something sharp slid underneath it. "You ever hit a woman, Maverick?"
Maverick blinked. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
His voice wasn't raised. It didn't need to be.
Because now the room wasn't filled with a business proposal.
It was filled with truth. Unspoken. Inevitable.
Collin stood slowly, adjusting his cuffs. "We'll continue this pitch when I feel like hearing from you. But not today."
Maverick rose to stand too. "Wait, are you—"
"You're dismissed."
The finality in Collin's tone stopped Maverick in his tracks.
He had walked into the room thinking this was a chance to impress a titan.
But he was now standing face to face with a man who had already made his decision — and was choosing not to destroy him… yet.
As Maverick walked out, stiff and rattled, Collin stared after him, jaw tense.
He didn't need to ask anything else.
He knew.
He knew the mark on Catherine's face.
He knew the silence she kept.
He knew the kind of man who left a woman like her in the rain.
And more than anything…
He knew that this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.
Not by a long shot.