Chapter 4
“Max,” she repeated, her voice softer this time, almost a whisper. She couldn’t bring herself to say more. What else could she say when the man she’d tried so hard to forget stood before her, so infuriatingly composed, while she felt like a mess wrapped in pink satin?
“Are you having a good time?” Max asked, his deep voice deceptively calm as he extended his hand toward her.
Lexie hesitated, the tension between them so thick she could feel it pressing down on her shoulders.
She had no choice but to accept his hand, but the instant his fingers closed around hers, she regretted it.
His grip was firm, unyielding, and it felt like he wasn’t just holding her hand but claiming her.
It was an illusion, of course, but it left her breathless all the same.
His hand was so much larger than hers, enveloping it in a way that was both comforting and imprisoning.
Her heart fluttered against her ribs, betraying her composure as memories she had no business indulging in came flooding back.
Memories of the way he’d touched her, how his hands had held her with a different kind of intent—demanding and possessive but filled with a heat that had made the rest of the world melt away.
Memories of his body hovering over hers, his dark eyes locking with hers, silently commanding her to give him everything she had, everything she was.
“No,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Her pulse hammered wildly, her emotions a chaotic swirl.
She wasn’t even sure what question she was answering—his spoken one, his unspoken one, or perhaps the one she’d been asking herself.
No, I can’t have Max. No, I can’t step into this world again.
No, I can’t want him. Or maybe… all of the above.
His lips curved into something that might have passed for a smile if it wasn’t so cold, so cutting. His dark eyes bored into hers, and the hostility simmering just beneath the surface of his expression made her stomach twist.
“I didn’t know that you were seeing anyone,” he said, his tone conversational—too casual, like a knife wrapped in velvet. But his jaw clenched slightly, the muscle ticking with suppressed tension, and the hardness in his eyes made her feel like she was standing on the edge of a precipice.
Lexie felt his grip on her hand tighten ever so slightly, as if daring her to lie.
The intensity in his gaze left her feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that had nothing to do with the ridiculous pink satin dress that barely covered her.
She glanced over her shoulder at Enzo, her body tensing as though she could feel Max’s fury burning hotter with every passing second.
“I’m not,” she said softly, the words slipping out in a rush. She hated how defensive she sounded, but there was no denying the truth.
Max’s lips pressed into a thin line, and when he spoke again, his words were measured, deliberate, and razor-sharp. “And yet, you’ve arrived at my friend’s engagement party, on another man’s arm, dressed in… almost nothing.”
The accusation hung heavy in the air, slicing through her composure like a blade. Her cheeks flushed with heat, the humiliation of the situation wrapping around her like a noose. He didn’t raise his voice—he didn’t need to. The weight of his disapproval was suffocating enough.
Lexie opened her mouth to respond, but her voice caught in her throat.
What could she possibly say? That Enzo wasn’t her date, but her blackmailer?
That she hadn’t chosen this dress but had been forced into it?
That she’d never wanted to be here in the first place?
The truth felt too complicated to explain in the middle of a crowded room under Max’s unforgiving gaze.
Instead, she met his eyes again, desperate to find something in them that wasn’t anger.
But all she saw was a silent storm brewing—a dangerous mix of hurt, betrayal, and something far darker.
She couldn’t tell if he was angrier at her or himself, but the intensity of it left her feeling like the ground beneath her feet was about to crumble.
Lexie’s cheeks flared with humiliation, the heat radiating from her face almost as unbearable as Max’s piercing gaze.
“You know I didn’t choose this dress,” she hissed under her breath, regretting the words the moment they left her lips.
Her heart jumped as she realized how close she was to spilling too much.
Quickly, she glanced over at Enzo again, who was still lingering across the ballroom, but before she could do anything else, strong fingers caught her chin.
Max’s grip wasn’t rough, but it was firm—unyielding in a way that left no room for resistance.
He tilted her face toward him with an effortless precision that made her pulse race.
At first, Lexie had no idea what he was doing, but then his dark eyes narrowed, focusing on her cheek.
His thumb grazed the tender spot where Enzo had slapped her earlier, the lightest touch sending a jolt of shame and anger through her.
Lexie tried to pull away, but Max didn’t let go.
His gaze darkened further, his features hardening as he slowly, deliberately shifted his attention to her arm.
His fingers moved down to touch the angry red marks left by Enzo’s earlier pinching.
The evidence of what she’d endured, so plainly visible, made her throat tighten.
Max straightened slightly, his expression turning cold as he glanced over at Enzo, preening like the fool he was.
The man was completely oblivious to the storm brewing across the room, tugging at the waistband of his ill-fitting slacks with a smug grin plastered across his face.
His eagerness to impress Max was written all over him, his smarmy demeanor making Lexie’s skin crawl.
“He did this to you?” Max asked, his tone calm—too calm. There was a deadly edge beneath the conversational veneer, a quiet but unmistakable warning that sent a chill down Lexie’s spine. She could tell he was holding back, waiting for her answer to determine what his next step would be.
Lexie’s chest tightened as panic and shame warred within her. “Max, I should…” she began, her voice faltering as she tried to look away, but his grip on her chin prevented her.
“Lexie,” he interrupted, his voice low and filled with restrained power, “if you are in trouble, you need only ask for help.” His dark eyes softened briefly, just enough to let her see the patience behind his fury.
He released her chin but didn’t step back, his presence still looming over her, protective yet unyielding.
“You know I’ll handle it. All you have to do is say the word. ”
She swallowed hard, torn between the desire to spill the whole story a genuine fear of what doing so might unleash.
Could Max really stop Enzo? Could anyone?
This wasn’t just about physical safety—this was her entire life.
Her career, her students, everything she’d worked so hard to build…
all of it would be destroyed if Enzo released those videos.
“I’m fine,” she said at last, her voice trembling as she forced herself to meet Max’s gaze. Her mind flickered back to her plan to hire a hacker, to take control of the situation herself. She couldn’t risk dragging Max into this—no matter how much she wanted to.
The disappointment in Max’s eyes cut deeper than she expected. It wasn’t anger or frustration, but something far worse: a quiet disappointment, a knowing look that told her he saw through the lie and hated that she felt she couldn’t trust him. It was almost enough to break her resolve.
“Fine,” he said sharply, though his fingers lingered on hers for a moment longer, their grip firm but gentle. “When you’re ready, I’ll be here to help you.”
The words were calm, but they carried a weight that settled heavily on her chest. He was giving her space, waiting for her to come to him on her own terms, but she knew the offer wouldn’t last forever.
The tension between them crackled, and as he stepped back, she felt its absence like a sudden drop in temperature.
Lexie opened her mouth to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come. Max gave her one last look, his expression unreadable, before turning away, leaving her to wrestle with the storm raging inside her.
Again, Lexie hesitated, torn by the desire to reach out for help and the crushing weight of her pride.
For a fleeting moment, she allowed herself to imagine it—Max stepping in, taking control, and making everything in her life right again.
He was powerful enough to handle Enzo, to make the threats and blackmail disappear as though they’d never existed.
She knew it in her heart. If anyone could fix this mess, it was Max.
But no.
Her jaw tightened as she forced the thought away.
She couldn’t rely on Max. She couldn’t rely on anyone but herself.
Life had taught her that painful lesson time and time again—trusting others came with a price she wasn’t willing to pay anymore.
And Max? He was dangerous in ways that went far beyond Enzo.
Dangerous because she’d trusted him once, and she’d let herself believe that he might be her safe haven.
Dangerous because she’d rejected him a year ago, shattering whatever fragile bond they’d built.
How could she come back to him now, after all that?
After walking away, after telling herself she couldn’t be with someone like him—someone who wielded so much power?
It wasn’t fair. Not to him, and not to herself.
The last thing she could do was crawl back into his life when she needed help, knowing she’d been the one to push him away in the first place.
Her fingers curled into fists at her sides as she struggled against the storm of emotions within her.
She wanted to step closer, to let Max pull her into his arms like he used to, to feel the safety and warmth of his broad, muscular chest. But that wasn’t a possibility anymore.
She’d burned that bridge the day she’d left him, and she refused to rebuild it out of desperation.
So instead, Lexie turned and walked away, retracing her steps back the way she’d come. This time, she kept her head down, her eyes fixed on the polished marble floor, refusing to meet the curious gazes of the crowd. If they were still watching her, she didn’t notice, or maybe she was beyond caring.
Each step felt heavier than the last, and the distance between her and Max stretched like an insurmountable chasm.
Her heart screamed at her to turn back, to at least tell him the truth, but her mind was resolute.
She couldn’t go to him now, not like this.
Not when she’d already convinced herself that she didn’t belong in his world.
When she reached the edge of the room, the noise of the party swirled around her like static, meaningless and distant. She took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. This was her mess to handle, and she would find a way out of it—alone. She had no other choice.