05. Catch The Blue Bird Back

The moment I lift my gaze, the air leaves my lungs—it’s him.

“Are you gonna leave your husband just like this, right after the wedding party?”

Maximilian. Sitting across from me like a ghost from a nightmare. I blink, hoping he’ll disappear, but no—he’s real. He found me.

He looks terrible. The usual sharp elegance is gone—dark hair disheveled, stubble shadowing his jaw, and cold, bloodshot eyes ringed with exhaustion. His suit is wrinkled, shirt unbuttoned at the collar. He seems worn down, but far from defeated.

Maximilian leans back, jaw tight, struggling to maintain control. His gaze locks onto mine, steady yet simmering with restrained anger.

“How did you...?”

He cuts me off, leaning in with infuriating calm, like he’s already won. “If I missed your train, I would’ve taken my helicopter.” A pause, heavy with meaning. “Understand your position now?” His voice drops, sharp and deliberate. “Stop causing trouble.”

The words hit like a slap. My nails dig into my palms to stop my hands from trembling. I want to scream, to throw everything back at him—for trapping me in this nightmare, for hunting me down like a fugitive instead of his wife.

He grips my wrist and pulls me to my feet.

“I’m not going back,” I say, voice trembling but firm.

“The train is leaving soon,” Maximilian says, his tone clipped. “Don’t make me delay these people just to deal with you.” His stern glare only fuels my frustration.

I hate how he traps me like this. But maybe—just maybe—I can turn the situation around. I glance at the passengers, their curious gazes bouncing between us. I can feel their attention, and it sparks a bold idea.

I meet Maximilian’s eyes, determination rising. “What if I want you to?” I challenge, then I raising my voice. “Sir! I don’t want this! You know my brother only wants money—I’m just a victim here! I’m too young for you!”

Murmurs spread among the passengers, their faces shifting between confusion and concern. Maximilian stays silent, his hand tight on my wrist, brow furrowed as he scans the crowd. Hope flickers within me—maybe someone will intervene.

“I have dreams! I want my school life back! No one could buy my dream— even your money!” I declare, savoring the growing disapproval directed at him. For a moment, freedom seems within reach—until Maximilian moves.

Without a word, he hoists me over his shoulder.

“Put me down!” I scream, panic surging as I kick and struggle.

His voice drops, steady and deliberate. “You know,” he murmurs, “I could even buy that dream place of yours.”

His words cut deep, twisting the knife of helplessness even further.

Without a word, he strides toward the exit, ignoring my protests. “Let me go!” I scream, desperation rising as I realize I’m slipping away from my chance to escape. The world outside blurs, and the walls feel like they’re closing in.

Then, an elderly woman stands up, her voice cutting through the chaos. “Sir, I think you need to stop.” Her words stopping Maximilian, giving me a rush of hope, “you shouldn’t force her to be your bride.”

Maximilian turns to her, his expression darkening for a moment. I brace for a confrontation, fearing he might lash out. But then he glances at his men at the end of the carriage and shifts slightly. “Llyal, make sure everyone on this train gets free travel to their destination,” he commands.

The crowd murmurs, and I can feel the tension in the air. Is he really doing that?

He looks back at the old woman, his tone smooth and almost charming. “It’s a wedding souvenir for those who had a chance to saw my beautiful bride.”

The woman’s expression changes, confusion evident in her eyes. Maximilian carries me out of the carriage, and I realize he’s not done. He gently but firmly places me in the car. I scream and cry, my voice echoing in the confines as the engine roars to life. “Please! Let me go! I don’t want this!” But my pleas feel hollow, ignored.

Maximilian sits beside me, unaffected by my cries. He closes his eyes, resting his head against the headrest, and I hate that sight more than anything. How can he be so calm while I’m falling apart? “You resting now? After managing to catch me?” I ask, bitterness lacing my words.

He replies without opening his eyes. “Of course. You kept me up all night looking for you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that!” I shout, my voice breaking. “You can use your money to get another woman, even the money you gave to Jax. You can buy someone else, right? Why me?”

“It’s not about the money I spend,” he says, his tone steady, almost indifferent. “I can spend an island’s cost to make sure you come back to me.”

“This is crazy!” I cry, desperation clawing at my throat. “You don’t even love me! There’s nothing special about me that warrants treating me like a prisoner! Why are you so obsessed with me? What have I done to you?”

“Obsessed?” Maximilian echoes, his tone mocking. For a moment, I’m stunned by his laughter at the idea. A faint smile curves his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He sighs deeply, exhausted.

He turns away, staring out the window as the scenery rushes by, leaving me feeling more lost than ever.

“Why don’t you try to be quiet and stop causing trouble?” he says, condescending. “At least that would make up for throwing away your pearl necklace and wedding ring like trash.”

His words sting. I bristle at the reminder, but I know I discarded those items to escape. They were worth thousands, but I’d choose freedom over pretty trinkets any day. He finally opens his eyes and glances at me. “You’re making your brother anxious. Stop bothering him. You should give him a happy memory on your wedding day.”

“Are you crazy? You want me to give people a happy impression on a wedding day that feels like a curse?!” I shout, my anger boiling over. “This is insane!”

“He should know he’s the one who caused me trouble! He looks worried just so people think he cares about me, but he only wanted your money! That’s why he sold me to you! You guys treat me like I’m an item! I hate you two so much!”

“You’re the one who talking like you’re an item,” Maximilian replies coolly, his expression icy as he watches me from his chair. “I didn’t make many people busy overnight just to find an item. You’re the one who ruined our wedding moment, and when you realize it later, you’ve also ruined your brother’s dream.”

“His dream is to see me obediently married so he can take your money afterward?” I shoot back, disdain dripping from my voice.

“You wouldn’t understand what Mr. Jaxon did for you, Harper. He just—” Maximilian hesitates, not finishing his sentence. I catch a glimpse of something beneath his calm façade—something he almost reveals.

“What? You want to say he just wanted to protect me from danger?” I scoff, my anger flaring again. “He wanted to protect me? After pushing me into a lion’s den?”

Maximilian’s jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath, trying to regain his composure. “Still, I assure you to do your part and not cause any trouble. It will only make your brother suffer.”

I can’t help but smile bitterly at his words. Finally, I’m hearing the real Maximilian behind all the bravado. “Wow. Are you actually using your power to threaten me?” I challenge, crossing my arms defiantly.

“I’m not threatening you,” he replies, his voice steady but tense. “The contract is already signed anyway, and we’re legally married.”

Silence stretches between us like thick fog. I can hear my own sobs, but Maximilian doesn’t glance in my direction. He sits there, calm and unbothered, as if my tears don’t exist.

After a moment, I hear him cough—a harsh, raspy sound that breaks the silence. I don’t care. I’m too busy wallowing in despair to pay him any mind.

“Sir, are you all right?” the chauffeur calls from the front seat, concern lacing his tone.

Maximilian coughs again, his face twisted in discomfort. I can’t help but glance at him, but the sight only fuels my hatred. I scowl and look away, pretending he doesn’t exist.

“Watch the road; I want to get to the mansion as soon as possible,” he said, his voice strained and dismissive, avoiding my gaze like it’s a burden.

I feel a flicker of satisfaction at his discomfort. It's petty, I know, but for a moment, his suffering feels like a small victory. I wish he would suffer more than how he makes me now.