Taming Maximilian Cross

Chapter 1: Breeze

The warehouse stank of rust and diesel. Dim light cut through the broken windows that glinted off steel crates, and the slick floor where someone had already bled. Evelyn Liroux stood in the center of it all, her braid half undone, a blade spinning between her fingers like a coin she was too bored to pocket.

“Should’ve just given it back,” she said in a steady and low voice. “Would’ve saved you the trouble of explaining this mess to your boss.”

Across from her, six men in mismatched jackets shifted uneasily. Their leader, wearing a thick-necked brute with blood crusted on his knuckles, snorted. “Your father’s men should’ve guarded their shipment better. Finders keepers, sweetheart.”

Her crew, five of her father’s soldiers loyal enough to follow her instead, made a rough and eager laughter behind her. Evelyn’s lips curved.

“Sweetheart?” she echoed. “Cute.”

She flipped the knife once, then let it rest against her palm. The metal felt like home. She didn’t bother with a warning.

By the time the first man lunged, her blade was already in motion. Silver blur flashed through the stale air, slicing across his forearm before he could blink. He screamed, clutching the wound. Evelyn ducked the next swing, kicked out, and sent another man sprawling into a stack of crates.

Her crew surged forward and gunfire began echoing like thunder in the hollow space. But Evelyn didn’t draw her weapon. She moved through the chaos like smoke, while a grin was tugging at her lips, as if the violence itself made her feel alive.

She caught one of them by the collar, slammed him against a pillar, and pressed the edge of her knife to his throat. “Where’s the shipment?” she demanded.

His breath came out ragged. “G–gone! Already sold!”

Evelyn sighed, frustrated but not surprised. She pulled back then drove her knee into his stomach anyway. “Wrong answer.”

The man crumpled. She straightened with the knife spinning once more between her fingers. Her chest rose and fell, adrenaline humming like static beneath her skin. For a moment, she looked almost like a kid who’d just won a street fight instead of the daughter of one of the most dangerous men in the city.

Her second-in-command, Luka, approached cautiously. “You’re bleeding,” he said.

Evelyn glanced at the shallow cut on her cheek, wiped it with the back of her hand. “Barely counts,” she said. “They’re getting bolder.”

Luka nodded. “You think someone’s backing them?”

“Maybe.” Her gaze drifted toward the open warehouse doors, where dawn was beginning to break, painting the city in cold gray light. For a heartbeat, she looked smaller and haunted, like someone remembering a name she shouldn’t.

She flipped the knife shut with a practiced flick, sliding it into the hidden pocket of her jacket. Squaring her shoulders, she gave the order without hesitation. “Call the cleanup crew. And tell my father we’ll recover every last bit of what’s ours.”

Without delay, she strode toward the black car waiting outside, heels clicking against the concrete. Her men followed, moving with the same fluid precision that made them a force to be reckoned with. The moment they were all seated, the driver’s hands tightened on the wheel, and the engine growled to life, cutting through the morning fog.

Evelyn pressed her palm to the glass, watching the warehouse shrink behind them.

The place blurred past as the black car glided along the coastal road. Evelyn’s eyes drifted to the horizon, where the rising sun kissed the water in molten gold, painting the territory below with a brilliance that seemed almost…otherworldly. The sea stretched endlessly, serene and untouchable, which was completely different to the chaos she left behind.

Without warning, she leaned forward, tapping the driver’s shoulder. “Stop.”

The car braked sharply, startling Luka, who was trailing a few yards behind in another vehicle. His eyes narrowed, scanning the surroundings.

Evelyn didn’t look back. She unlatched her seatbelt and stepped out, boots crunching against the gravel. The breeze carried the tang of salt and freedom, and she inhaled it deeply, letting it fill her lungs. The warmth of the rising sun settled over her shoulders, and for a brief moment, she felt…untethered.

Luka quickly but silently appeared behind her with his brow furrowed. “Miss Liroux… we shouldn’t be in this place,” he warned, his voice low but urgent.

Evelyn closed her eyes, tilting her head toward the wind, letting it tousle her hair. “Hm… why not?” she asked, voice soft, almost playful, as if the danger didn’t exist.

Luka’s gaze hardened. “I heard this place is now someone else’s territory… someone dangerous,” he said, tension threading his words.

She opened her eyes slowly, still calm, letting the sunlight catch the edges of her face. The wind tugged at her braid, brushing strands across her cheeks, and she closed her eyes again, inhaling the salt-tinged air. “I only do this a few times a month,” she said lightly, almost dismissively. “And I’m only sightseeing. What will they do?” She let out a soft scoff, but there was no bite in her tone. Only a hint of recklessness that made Luka’s stomach twist.

“Miss… you do this every day. Why not enjoy the sunset somewhere safe, where you won’t be seen by dangerous people?” He hesitantly said while his voice had a subtle tremor betraying his worry.

Evelyn said nothing for a long moment, letting the breeze carry her silence. Then, slowly, she spoke. “Sunrise… is far different from the sunset.” Her tone was quiet, reflective. “The reason I love times like this is that it makes me feel alive. It makes me feel… new. Like I could have a life that isn’t… this.”

Her words shocked Luka. He blinked, unsure if she meant her statement literally or if it was just a poetic escape. “Whatever do you mean, Ms. Liroux?”

“This life… can be tiresome, you know?” She laughed, but it was bitter, almost hollow, echoing against the metal railing and the soft crash of waves below. “Don’t you want a normal life? A beautiful wife, little children running around causing trouble while you go out of your humble home, tending a garden, planting vegetables, maybe growing fruit trees… picking them when they’re ripe…?”

Luka was silent. The wind carried her words, and for the first time in a long while, he felt the weight of her truth pressing against him. “Well… of course I do,” he admitted quietly, almost ashamed. “I think about it sometimes, to be honest.”

Evelyn smiled, a small, fleeting thing that softened the sharp edges of her face. “Me too. I think of that too. I want… to hold children, to play with them without fearing for their lives. Without having to be on guard every second, worried that someone will come for them. I just want… peace.”