In the low-key, luxurious room, Maverick's brows furrowed slightly, and his black eyes narrowed solemnly.

He stared down at the woman whose eyes were scrunched up and whose lips pouted adorably, and he extended his hand to smoothen the crease in between her brows.

As if he had just recollected himself, Maverick suddenly paused, and his gaze fell on Valencia's palm-sized, beautiful face. What was he doing? He planned to marry Tatiana; what was he doing with this woman?

Somehow, even though Maverick wanted to marry Tatiana, he never wanted to let this silly woman go to any other man, especially Corbyn Cirillo.

The thought of Valencia under another man...