He Married Her For A Bet—But The Night She Collapsed, Everything He Thought He Controlled Fell Apart P2
Quiet at first.
Almost polite.
But unmistakably cruel.
Maya shifted her weight from one foot to the other.
Her ankles were beginning to swell.
She had been standing too long.
A familiar tightness had started in her chest.
It wasn’t exactly pain.
Not yet.
But it was enough to make her conscious of every breath.
She slowly inhaled.
Then exhaled.
Stay calm.
Stay composed.
Smile if necessary.
Make it through one hour.
Then leave.
She didn’t need to belong here.
She only needed to survive the evening.
But then one of the women near the bar spoke loudly enough for Maya to hear.
“I still think the whole thing was some kind of publicity stunt.”
Another woman raised an eyebrow.
“Why?”
The first woman glanced directly at Maya.
“Because there’s no way Taylor King would actually marry someone like that.”
Silence followed.
A tiny silence.
The kind that lasts just long enough for everyone to understand what was said.
Then another woman laughed softly.
“Maybe it’s philanthropy.”
The laughter spread.
Maya stared down at the champagne glass in her hand.
She hadn’t taken a single sip.
Tiny bubbles climbed toward the surface and disappeared.
One after another.
Like tiny failures.
Her face remained calm.
Years of being underestimated had taught her how to keep her expression neutral.
But her fingers betrayed her.
Her hand trembled once.
Just once.
She hoped no one noticed.
She placed the glass on the nearest table.
“Excuse me,” she whispered.
She wasn’t really speaking to anyone.
She turned toward the exit.
One step.
That was all she managed.
A hand suddenly closed around hers.
Warm.
Firm.
Familiar.
Maya stopped.
She hadn’t heard him approach.
Taylor had a strange ability to move through a room without making noise.
People simply noticed him when he was already there.
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