Catherine bit her lip, her gaze lingering on the screen a moment longer than necessary. "Why would he want to meet me now?" she muttered, frustration threading through her voice. "I've made it very clear I want nothing to do with him."
Maximilian didn't answer immediately.
He only gave her a look.
A quiet, knowing look that said more than words ever could.
Catherine exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly. "Right," she murmured, almost to herself.
Of course, Dorian wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Charlotte would have reached out to him," Maximilian said at last, his tone calm, but edged with something colder beneath. "And Dorian… wants to handle her." His gaze flicked briefly to the phone in her hand. "He wants your audience."
Catherine's nose wrinkled in distaste.
If he thought dragging another woman into this—hurting her, parading it like some twisted offering, would win anything from her, he had lost his mind long ago.
But still…
