Chapter 3 - The Cold Current
Determined to prevent any risk of harm, Martha turned toward the gold fixture at the edge of the deep tub. She reached for the cold-water tap, ignoring the dangerous, warning expression fixed on Maxwell's face.
She turned the handle.
A fresh, steady stream of ice-cold water rushed out from the spout, plunging directly into the scorching bathwater right beside Maxwell's right leg.
Martha watched the surface ripple as the cold water mixed with the steam.
Then, something impossible happened.
Beneath the clear upper layer of the water, Maxwell’s right foot twitched sharply. It jerked several inches away from the freezing stream, his toes instantly curling inward against the smooth ceramic floor of the tub.
Martha froze.
Her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes locked onto his foot beneath the water, watching the subtle muscle contraction ripple up through his calf.
She raised her head slowly.
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Maxwell was staring down at his leg, then his eyes snapped to hers. He knew she had seen it.
For one brief, fragile second, the terrifying, untouchable Mafia boss disappeared. The cold confidence vanished from his features, replaced by a sudden, raw flicker of absolute shock and vulnerability.
