“Valencia…”

Maverick’s legs rooted to a stop upon finding no trace of the woman in the bedroom; his brows knitted slightly.

Nevertheless, Maverick placed down the platter that held neatly cut fruit, a bottle of water, and a glass of warm milk on the table.

Instantly, Maverick strode toward the bathroom and pushed the door open.

Upon finding no trace of Valencia, his calm facade broke and his expression changed.

Regardless of how fast Valencia could be, she wasn’t supposed to have left the room considering the state he had left her in.

Valencia would need to shower and change her dress.

Not to mention that Valencia knew that Maverick...