Lucrezia jolted at the voice.
Her hand jerked instinctively, knocking the bottle she had just set down. It slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a crack, the remaining water spilling out and spreading across the tiles.
She whipped her head around in shock, her heart leaping violently in her chest.
For a moment, fear froze her in place.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she had expected someone might notice her wandering—perhaps a guard or a servant moving through the corridors.
But never—not even for a second—had she imagined it would be him.
Maverick.
Standing there at this hour of the night, as if he had been watching her all along.
Or had he?
Her mouth fell slightly open as she stared at him, rooted to the spot, the words she wanted to say refusing to come out.
It would have been easier if her situation were the only thing she had to worry about.
But right now, Maverick was standing in front of her.
Dressed in nothing but black pants and a dark singlet that clung to him like a second skin, barely containing the width of his chest and the hard lines of muscle beneath it.
The thin fabric stretched across his torso with every slow breath he took, revealing strength that looked less from training and more from years of violence and control.
The kitchen lights were dim, casting shadows along his frame and emphasising the powerful slope of his shoulders as well as the thick cords of his arms.
Black ink curled along the sides of those arms—tattoos that resembled something like smoke, rising from some hidden flames. The designs disappeared beneath the fabric of his shirt, only to emerge again along his forearms, exuding his dark and dangerous aura.
Lucrezia swallowed. She'd seen his shirtless form once before and perhaps a couple of times when they were younger but somehow, it had never appealed to her the way it did right now.
Had he always...?
Lucrezia didn't even realise when her gaze began to travel slowly and carefully.
From the solid stance of his legs… to the lines of his torso… lingering for a fraction too long on the broad expanse of his chest… before finally reaching his face.
Only then did she realise she had been staring and she almost flinched when it turned out his eyes were already on her, sharp enough to make her breath hitch.
Maverick's expression was grim as he watched her gape at him shamelessly, her hair slightly dishevelled.
She was still wearing her maid's uniform from earlier that clung perfectly to her figure, accentuating her curves which made him slightly narrow his eyes.
Lucrezia might have sworn she was imagining it—but beneath the icy stillness, there was something else in Maverick's gaze.
Something darker.
Something that made it very clear he had noticed exactly where her eyes had wandered.
He took a step forward into the kitchen, causing Lucrezia's knee to wobble feeling her heart thumping faster as he took another step, approaching her.
His walk was controlled and unnerving, as if he was waiting patiently for her to falter before striking like a predator.
She watched him closer, goosebumps forming on her skin as she tried to think of something to say.
"Mav–"
Before she could complete her statement, he was already before her, his shadow covering hers as he grabbed her by the chin, putting her face inches away from his.
"What are you doing here?"
His breath brushed against her face as he spoke, warm and steady.
Their eyes met each other's with a grip that felt almost physical. Even when Lucrezia tried to look away, he held in place, refusing to release her.
Her hands trembled and without thinking, she lifted them to his chest, pressing lightly as if she could push him back and reclaim the little space he had stolen from her.
Maverick, however, didn't move. Not even an inch.
With her palms on his firm chest, Lucrezia was more aware of his closeness– of the slow rise and fall of his breathing under her fingers.
"I–I came to get water," she managed to speak, her voice unsteady.
Her lips were so close to his that one careless movement would close the distance entirely between them.
For a moment, Maverick said nothing.
His eyes flickered briefly to the bottle lying on the floor, water still spreading across the marble floor, before returning to her face.
The silence was long enough to make her uncomfortable.
"You shouldn't be here," he finally said.
The words were calm, firm enough to sound like just a rule had been broken but there was an underlying warning in it.
Lucrezia blinked at him, confusion flashing across her face.
"I was just—"
"Your room is upstairs."
His tone cut across her explanation before it could fully form, carrying an authority that made it clear the conversation wasn't meant to continue.
Lucrezia swallowed, glancing down at the spreading puddle before looking back up at him.
"I only needed water," she said quietly, the confusion still evident in her voice. "I didn't know it was… forbidden."
Maverick's jaw tightened slightly.
"It's not forbidden," he said after a pause.
"Then why—"
"Because this house isn't a place you walk around in at night."
The way he said it made it sound less like advice and more like something he expected her to accept without question.
Lucrezia frowned faintly.
For someone who had lived her entire life in a Don's mansion, she knew servants moved through hallways at all hours. Guards especially patrolled the house openly and the kitchens were never off-limits.
At least, for her.
Despite knowing how much danger everything around her father carried, things like this were not a big deal.
So why was he acting like her presence in a kitchen was a violation of some unspoken law?
Her stomach chose that exact moment to betray her.
A low, embarrassing rumble echoed in the quiet kitchen and Lucrezia froze, heat rushing to her cheeks immediately.
Maverick's gaze dropped briefly to her stomach before returning to her face, though his expression didn't change.
"I'll go," she muttered quickly, suddenly aware of how ridiculous she must look standing here in the middle of the night.
She stepped around him after he freed her, carefully avoiding the spilt water as the hunger hit harder with every step toward the door and her heart sank.
She couldn't believe she was going to sleep hungry after summoning the courage to come all the way here but she also couldn't stand the thought of him staring at her like that in this vulnerable and awkward state.
Her hand was just reaching for the kitchen doorway when a firm grip closed around her arm suddenly, making her gasp softly, stopping mid-step.
She turned back in surprise just as Maverick pulled a stool up to the kitchen island, positioning it close to the counter before guiding her toward it.
"Sit," he said.