His fingers tightened slightly around the coffee cup.
“My legs stopped working after the accident.” He gave a faint smile that looked almost emotionless. “So I spent a long time trying to fix them.”
Amara’s breath caught slightly as Maverick mentioned the accident, her fingers tightening around her cup without realizing it.
Zoe’s face flashed through her mind at once.
Her gaze lowered for a moment, the steam from her latte curling upward as if to fill the silence in her thoughts.
For a brief second, she wondered—’Was Maverick in the accident with Zoe?‘
She didn’t know the full story. Not really. Only fragments. Only gossip she had overheard after leaving the hospital months later.
She had been recovering from her own accident at that time. Three months confined between white walls and silence. And only after she left did she start hearing things—snippets of conversations, hushed voices at the parties, Zoe’s accident, a death, a sister gone too soon.
She had never met Zoe personally, only seen her from a distance once or twice. But even that brief memory was enough to leave an impression—young, bright, almost her age. The thought made something in Amara’s chest tighten quietly.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said gently. Her eyes lifted back to him. “How are you doing now? Are you… alright?”
“I’m fine.” A faint, almost careless smile touched his lips.
“I’ve been trying to fix everything that fell apart after that damn accident,” he said quietly, rolling his shoulders back slightly like he was carrying a weight that never truly left him. “That’s why I pushed myself to get back on my feet as quickly as possible. I needed to make the people responsible for my sister’s death pay for what they did.”
His tone stayed calm, but there was something icy underneath it—like he was holding the rest of the sentence back.
Before Amara could respond, a sudden shift in the air made her look up.
Her eyes lifted instinctively—and her expression changed instantly.
Shock flickered across her face.
Maverick noticed it immediately.
His gaze followed hers just as the figure approached their table with controlled fury.
“Elias…” she whispered under her breath.
Before Maverick could even turn fully, Elias was already there.
He stopped beside the table like a storm cut in half mid-strike.
He was still dressed in his perfectly dark italian suit, but unlike his usual perfectly put-together appearance, the expensive fabric looked slightly crumpled, as though he had driven there in a hurry straight from work. His tie had been loosened carelessly, and a few strands of his dark hair had fallen out of place, making him look rougher than usual.
His eyes were dark — burning with something raw and unrestrained. But the moment they landed on Maverick, that emotion shifted. Shock hit first. Then disbelief. And then something far sharper.
His eyes were dark—burning with something raw and unrestrained. But the moment they landed on Maverick, that emotion shifted. Shock hit first. Then disbelief. And then something sharper.
Fury.
“What the fuck?” Elias’s voice cut through the space.
Maverick, however, didn’t react the way someone caught off guard would.
He tilted his head slightly, lips curling at the edge into a faint, almost amused smile.
Like he had been expecting trouble.
“What the hell areyoudoing here?” Elias snapped again, stepping closer. His hand dragged down the edge of the table, the wood scraping faintly under the pressure.