Max stood up and walked closer to her.

Amara regarded him with a puzzled expression, her mind racing with questions. Why did he respond like that?

Max caught her gaze and smiled—there was an unexpected warmth in his eyes.

“Amara, do you know the rumor about me and my father?” he asked suddenly.

She said nothing, though her heart fluttered. Of course, she had heard the whispers, but she chose silence.

“They say my father forgot me after he remarried—that he sent me away so he could focus on his new family.” He gave a quiet, humorless chuckle. “But the truth is, I left by choice. My father actually tried to bring me back. He made more than one attempt.”

He turned to her, his voice softening. “But you already know that, don’t you?”

Amara met his gaze, confusion swirling in her mind. I hope he’s drunk.

“ I don’t understand,” she said, her brow furrowed.

“I’m saying, Amara—why are you lying?” Max’s blue eyes cut through her composure.

“What? Sir, I’m not lying,” she replied, struggling to stay calm under the weight of his stare.

“Amara,” he said quietly, “the rumor about you—that you came here out of rebellion, just to anger your family—it’s false. And I know you started it yourself. I’ve seen how they treat you. The insults. Your brother’s temper. And that’s just what I can see. I can only imagine the things you hide.”

“My brother never abused me, sir,” Amara said sharply.

“Okay,” Max said, lifting his hands slightly, “let’s pretend that’s true. But you and I both know ........... So stop lying, and tell me the truth.”

Amara stood frozen. There was no point pretending anymore.

“Amara, why are you leaving?” he pressed, his voice calm but relentless.

“I have an engagement,” she finally said, her voice trembling despite her effort to keep it steady. “I’m going to be engaged to Lord Len.”

The words hung heavy between them.

Max’s expression shifted instantly. His smirk vanished, replaced by disbelief. “Len? Lord Len? You’re being forced, aren’t you? He’s fifty.”

“He’s not that old,” she said quietly, trying to hold her composure.

“Old enough—older than your brother,” Max retorted.

“And I’m twenty. I don’t see your point,” she replied, forcing her tone to stay calm. She respected Lord Len; he was kind, steady… safe. Even if her family was forcing her hand, at least with him, there would be peace.

“If your family is forcing you, you can come here,” Max said, stepping closer, his voice low and urgent. “You can ask for my help. You know I have the power to protect you.”

Amara held her ground. “It’s not necessary. He’s a good match for me. I respect him. He’s… a good man.”

“Respect isn’t love, Amara,” Max said, frustration slipping through his voice. “Don’t marry him. He’s older than you. He already has a child from his first marriage.”

“And?” she said flatly.

“Don’t do it,” Max said again, his tone deepening. “You’ll ruin your life. You don’t love him—and you won’t.”

“I respect him,” she insisted. “And I think he’ll be good to me.”

“I said no,” Max snapped. He leaned forward, closing the space between them until she could feel his breath. “I refuse this marriage.”

“I don’t think you have the authority to refuse anything,” Amara said, her voice trembling but firm.

“He’s old enough to be your father!”

“I don’t have that kind of choice,” she said softly. “I have to marry someone eventually—just like you. And Lord Len is the best choice for me.”

“No,” Max muttered, shaking his head. “You don’t love him.”

Amara met his gaze without flinching. “No, I don’t. But I believe I can build a family with him.”

Max’s eyes darkened, his jaw tightening. Her words cut too deep.

“But you love me,” he said finally, his voice low, almost a whisper. “You can’t build a family when you love someone else… right?” he saıd . his breath brushing her skin. Amara’s heart pounded. She didn’t answer.