The elevator opened with the kind of self-importance only found in high-rise buildings that cost more than most people's lifetime savings. Althea stepped out cautiously, suitcase in one hand, Lilith's carrier in the other, and her dignity... somewhere trailing behind.
Max followed behind her, carrying a cardboard box labeled "ESSENTIALS" that definitely had nothing essential in it unless one considered two bath bombs, three crumpled hoodies, and a massage machine for survival.
"This is... your apartment?" Althea asked, blinking at the glass walls, marble floors, and the faint scent of luxury and generational wealth.
Max scratched the back of his neck. "Well, technically, it's under my name. But it's not that fancy. Like... just basic rich."
Althea snorted. "Basic rich? That chandelier looks like it eats minimum wage workers for breakfast."
"It's on an energy-saving mode," Max defended weakly.
The penthouse was, by all metrics, luxurious, but not obscenely so. Sleek white counters, soft lighting, a view of the skyline that made her feel like she lived inside a screensaver. Everything looked like it belonged in a catalog titled Subtle Opulence for People Who Don't Need to Try.
And then there was Lilith's corner. Correction: Lilith's throne.
Set against the far side of the living room was what could only be described as a cat-sized canopy bed, complete with velvet curtains, a heated pillow, and a gold-trimmed food station that probably cost more than Althea's childhood bicycle.
"What is that?" Althea asked flatly.
Max grinned. "Oh, you mean the Empress Suite? Got it custom-made. She deserves the best."
Lilith emerged from her carrier, gave the room a single judgmental glance, and immediately pranced onto her miniature palace as if to say: Finally.
"I'm going to pretend living with an emotionally unstable heir and a cat with a superiority complex," Althea muttered.
"Hey," Max said, unloading the box, "I take offense. I'm very stable. Emotionally. Ish."
Althea rolled her eyes and dropped her suitcase with a dramatic sigh. "So this is it. No more mansion, no more polite dinners with nine forks, no more afternoon lectures from my mother about how I've ruined my womb's market value."
Max blinked. "Wow."
"Too much?"
"No, just... I thought I was the one with trauma jokes."
She flopped onto the couch, face first. "I win now. I'm the protagonist."
Flashback: A Day Ago
The suitcase had been packed for precisely eight minutes before her mother walked in.
"You're embarrassing us," she said coldly. "You humiliated your father."
Althea zipped the suitcase slowly. "That's kind of our family theme, isn't it?"
Her mother's voice turned sharp. "Where will you go? To that boy? The one who staged a scandal?"
"Yes," Althea said. The last thing her mother said was: "Since you are marrying a Velasco anyway, make sure you keep your mouth shut and go along with the family. That anyway saves the company."
Althea stayed silent. She left the house with two suitcases, and a portable charger at 2% battery.
Max had been parked across the street in a black SUV that looked like it came with mood lighting and secrets.
He didn't say anything when she slid into the passenger seat, didn't ask questions when she wordlessly handed over her bag. Just drove.
She looked at him then, hair messy, eyes puffy from unshed tears, and whispered, "You just picked me up like a stray."
Max had smirked. "I like strays. They bite less when they trust you."
Back in the penthouse, Althea stared at the ceiling.
"So... what now?" she asked, voice muffled by cushion fluff. Max was fiddling with a remote. "Now? I show you the highlight of this entire house."
She peeked up. He pressed a button and the living room curtains automatically parted, revealing the skyline in all its moody golden-hour glory.
"Fancy window," she said.
"No." Max pointed at the corner of the ceiling. "That's a popcorn button."
"A what now?"
He hit it again and a hidden panel opened, dispensing warm popcorn into a bowl.
"God, you're rich," she said.
"I know."
"Can I ask you something though?" she said quietly.
Max nodded. "Anything."
"That day… at the wedding." Her eyes didn't leave his face. "Why did you come up with an excuse like that?
Max felt like someone had pressed pause on his lungs. She was looking at him with that maddening, soft curiosity; the kind that cracked you open without ever lifting a finger.
He didn't answer. He couldn't.
Because how could he admitted it, that it wasn't just a petty excuse? What if she ran? What if it was too much? What if the fragile peace between them shattered?
"You did enough. You pulled me out of a mess. I'm grateful." Althea said.
"Althea—"
"I just need a place to stay. For now."
A beat passed.
"Well, good for you, I have a kind heart for stray animals" Max massaged his shoulders.
Althea stared for a few more seconds. Then, softly, she laughed. Not bitter. Just... relief.
Max opened his mouth. Closed it again.
Althea stood. "What's for dinner?" she asked.
Max, sprawled on the couch, replied, "Takeout or panic."
She picked up her phone. "Takeout it is. What does Lilith eat?"
"Only wet food. Organic. Rabbit-flavored."
"You're joking."
"I wish I was."
When the food arrived, they ate on the table, surrounded by empty boxes and a cat that absolutely judged their every move. Althea didn't say it out loud, but her chest ached a little less than it did in her parents' house. The ache was still there, like a phantom limb. But it was quieter now. Less cruel.
Max nudged her with his shoulder. "Welcome home, I guess."
She smiled, small and tired. "Thanks, landlord."
He grinned. "Don't worry. First month's rent is just emotionally processing your trauma."
"Then I'm already two years ahead."
They didn't talk much after that. Just let the TV play something silly while the city lit up behind them. Althea eventually dozed off against the arm of the couch. Lilith climbed into his lap without warning. Max didn't move.
The penthouse, with all its quiet corners and ridiculous cat furniture, felt like it was finally being lived in. Not just a place with walls and windows. Max leaned back and stared at the ceiling.
For now, all he could do was let her be. And understand her better quietly. In the spaces between the silence.
End of Chapter 24.