Chapter 20

Maxwell's penthouse gleamed with quiet luxury, all clean lines and understated wealth that made everything else feel cheap by comparison. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a glittering panorama of Miami at night, the city lights reflecting off Italian marble floors and chrome fixtures. Chloe sat on the leather couch, her party dress crumpled, the red silk now wrinkled from Julian's desperate grip. Her carefully styled hair had come undone, crystal pins missing, leaving dark waves that tumbled across bare shoulders. Makeup smudged beneath her eyes told stories of held-back tears, while her fingers twisted nervously in her lap, the massive engagement ring catching light with every movement. "Here." Maxwell handed her a crystal glass, the Baccarat catching the warm glow from recessed lighting. His movements were precise, controlled, everything Julian's hadn't been. "Drink this." Even in crisis, he emanated calm authority, his bow tie now loosened but still perfect. "What is it?"