He Married Her For A Bet—But The Night She Collapsed, Everything He Thought He Controlled Fell Apart P2
Six-foot-two.
Dark hair brushed neatly backward.
A perfectly tailored black tuxedo.
Broad shoulders.
Sharp jaw.
The kind of face that looked almost unreal beneath the chandeliers.
He was the sort of man people noticed before they even realized they were staring.
Money followed him everywhere.
So did confidence.
Usually, that confidence made him seem untouchable.
Tonight, it made him look dangerous.
Maya looked up at him.
“Don’t,” he said quietly.
She swallowed.
“It’s fine.”
His eyes moved to her face.
Then past her.
Toward the women at the bar.
“No,” he said.
His voice remained calm.
But something about it had changed.
“It isn’t.”
Maya squeezed his hand.
“Taylor, please.”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he turned his head toward the bar.
The room seemed to change with him.
People had noticed.
Conversations began fading.
One by one, nearby guests turned toward them.
Taylor wasn’t a man people ignored.
And when he looked angry, people paid attention.
Maya shook her head.
“Don’t make this worse.”
His eyes returned to hers.
“You think I’m going to let them humiliate you so everyone can have a pleasant evening?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know exactly what you mean.”
He stepped closer.
“You want to disappear.”
Maya looked down.
“I don’t belong here.”
Taylor’s jaw tightened.
“That isn’t true.”
“It is.”
“No.”
His answer came immediately.
“You don’t belong with people who think kindness is something to be ashamed of.”
Maya stared at him.
She didn’t know what to say.
Because Taylor had never spoken to her like this before.
Their marriage had begun differently than most.
There had been no romantic proposal.
No candlelit dinner.
No dramatic confession.
There had been paperwork.
Contracts.
Signatures.
A practical arrangement that had seemed simple at the time.
Maya had signed because she needed something Taylor could provide.
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