Dean lowered his head slightly, showing respect. "He didn't say, Boss. He just told me to tell you to return to the mansion immediately. He said it's urgent."
Maverick's jaw tightened. His right hand curled into a fist at his side. He had a strange feeling in his chest. Deep down, he already had a guess about what this was all about.
"Alright," he said, voice hard. "Get the car ready. I'm leaving now."
"Yes, Boss!" Dean nodded quickly and hurried out of the room.
Maverick walked over to the coat rack and grabbed his black leather jacket. He slipped it on smoothly, then carefully tucked two handguns into his waistband. The weapons were hidden well under his jacket-no one would be able to see them.
El Cuervo Blanco wasn't just any gang. It was powerful, feared, and involved in all sorts of crimes-assassinations, bribing government officials, illegal gambling, controlling labor groups, loan sharking, fraud, and even tricking the stock market.
Maverick's father, Don Henrik, had built the organization from the ground up and later passed the leadership to his only son. At first, Maverick didn't want the job. He didn't like the idea of living in the shadows, surrounded by danger and blood. But in the end, he had no choice. He is the only child of Henrik and Carmilla Cuervo.
Another reason he accepted the role was because of a broken heart. The woman he had loved for so long never loved him back. Hurt and full of anger, he threw himself into the brutal training his father forced upon him. He hardened himself, both in body and mind.
He always followed his father's orders. He never said no. The only thing that continued to haunt him was the mystery of his parents' divorce. He had never been told the reason, and it tore him silently, even now.
As they drove through the city toward the mansion, Maverick sat quietly in the back seat. His mind raced.
"Do you really have no idea what this announcement is really about?" he asked Dean, his voice low, full of tension.
Dean shook his head. "Not at all, Boss. Lately, your father's been acting strange. He doesn't even take Sigfrid along anymore-and you know how close they are."
Maverick's eyes narrowed. Sigfrid was Don Henrik's most loyal bodyguard. Something serious was going on.
Maverick sighed deeply and leaned back in his seat, his mind full of dark thoughts he wished he could ignore.
When they reached the mansion, something felt off. Everything was quiet-too quiet. Unlike the last time there was big news, there were no crowds, no noise, no signs of a celebration or party.
Back when his parents announced their separation, the house had been filled with people, music, and expensive wine. That had been a show for the public. But now? The silence suggested that whatever was coming was meant only for family.
Dean quickly got out of the car and opened the door for his boss. Maverick stepped out and adjusted his jacket. His face was serious as he walked toward the tall, elegant double doors of the mansion.
He stepped inside.
"Sorry I'm late, Dad," he said respectfully, even though part of him still carried resentment over the divorce.
Henrik stood calmly in the grand hallway. "No worries," he said in a steady voice. "You're just in time. They're about to arrive."
Maverick's eyes narrowed in confusion. "They?"
He had assumed that the meeting would be something to do with business. But now he was unsure.
"You'll see, son," Henrik said softly. Then he turned and walked toward the front doors.
Just then, the sound of car horns echoed from outside. The vehicles were getting closer. Maverick stood still, staring at the door, bracing himself for what-or who-was coming.
At forty-eight years old, Don Henrik still looked impressive. Most men his age showed signs of slowing down, but not him. He stood tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a firm body that showed he still trained hard. He even had visible abs-a sign that he never gave up on staying in shape. His sharp jawline, salt-and-pepper hair, and intense eyes made him look both handsome and powerful. It was easy to forget he was nearly fifty.
A few minutes passed in quiet tension. Then, Dean walked quietly into the room and leaned down to whisper something in Maverick's ear.
"Boss Henrik has a visitor," he said softly.
Maverick straightened up in his chair, his posture more alert now. Dean moved to stand beside him, ready to support his boss. Both men turned their eyes toward the entrance, waiting to see who the visitor might be.
When Don Henrik walked into the room, he wasn't alone. He held the hand of a woman.
Maverick started to stand up in respect, but his father raised a hand to stop him.
"Sit down, son. And don't speak until I give you permission." Henrik's voice was calm, but firm. There was no room for argument. Maverick sat back down, though his jaw tightened and his fists clenched in frustration. He didn't like being ordered around like a child.
Across from him, the woman sat beside his father. She was clearly older, but she carried herself with grace. Her smooth skin, expensive clothes, and the calm smile on her face showed that she came from a life of elegance and class. She is beautiful-there was no denying that. Maverick could see why his father might have fallen for her. But that only made it harder to accept.
Henrik looked at his son and spoke in a steady voice. "This is Alodia Ferguson. She is going to be your stepmother. I expect you to show her the respect she deserves. Also, be nice to her daughter, Roseline."
Alodia gave Maverick a gentle smile. She started to rise from her chair and said, "How are you, son?"
But Maverick didn't respond. He stood up suddenly and walked away, not saying a word.
"Maverick! Don't be rude!" Henrik's voice exploded through the room like thunder.
The heavy silence that followed was thick with tension. Even the staff in the mansion lowered their heads and kept their distance, afraid of what might happen next.
Maverick stopped and turned halfway, just enough to look back at his father.
"You can command me to follow orders, Dad," he said with anger in his voice. "But don't expect me to be friendly to the woman who took Mom's place."
Henrik tried to speak again, but Alodia gently reached out and touched his arm. Her gesture was soft and calming.
"Let him go, Henrik," she said. "I understand. It's not easy for him. Don't force him to accept me. Give him time. I'll earn his trust. I promise... I'll do my best to make sure your son will learn to treat me with kindness."
Maverick was halfway up the stairs now, gripping the railing tightly. His knuckles were white from how hard he held it. His chest ached as he thought about his mother-how she must be feeling right now, hearing news like this, alone and forgotten.
Just then, Dean appeared beside him again. He leaned in close and spoke quietly.
"Boss... there's another guest. She just arrived."
Before Maverick could react, he heard his father's voice call out from the hallway below.
"Finally, sweetheart. You're here."
Maverick turned his head, curious. He watched as Henrik and Alodia looked toward the entrance.
"I'm sorry I'm late. The traffic was bad," said a soft, feminine voice.
A moment later, a young woman walked through the doors.
As soon as Maverick laid eyes on her, he stopped moving. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected anything special. He thought this Roseline would be just another stranger. But the moment he saw her, he was stunned. His eyes widened slightly, and his entire body went still.
Roseline is beautiful-more beautiful than he imagined. She had a calm presence, and her face carried a quiet confidence. Her eyes met his for only a second, but it was enough. That single glance left him frozen, unable to look away.
For the first time that night, Maverick felt something he hadn't expected-curiosity, and something deeper he didn't want to name.
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