Chapter 5

"Just discussing Maya's travel plans, darling," Eleanor said smoothly, her eyes warning Maya to play along. "She was saying how much she's looking forward to her trip."

Maya nodded, avoiding Alex's gaze. "Yes. A long trip."

Eleanor smiled, a brief, satisfied curve of her lips.

"Well, I'll leave you two to chat. Rest well, Maya."

She swept out of the room.

Alex stood awkwardly by the door.

"Are you... are you okay?"

He looked at her bandaged wrist, the bruise blooming on her temple.

A flicker of something – guilt? – crossed his face.

"The other car ran a red light. It happened so fast. I just... reacted."

He was trying to justify shielding Tori, not her.

Maya looked at him, her eyes empty.

"I know. It's okay."

There was no accusation in her voice, no anger. Just a flat, dead acceptance.

His brow furrowed. He seemed frustrated by her lack of emotion.

He took a step towards her, his hand reaching out.

"Maya..."

She flinched, pulling back.

"Please, Alex. I'm tired. I just want to rest."

She closed her eyes, a clear dismissal.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand dropping to his side.

Then, he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

She heard his footsteps receding down the hall.

Relief washed over her, so profound it left her weak.

The next day, a nurse told her Alex had been by earlier, while she was sleeping.

He'd checked on Tori constantly, the nurse added, a hint of gossip in her tone.

Of course he had.

Alex drove her back to the city. Tori was already in the car, in the front seat.

"Oh, Maya, so glad you're feeling better!" Tori chirped, her concern ringing false. "Alex was so worried."

Maya's wrist throbbed with every bump in the road. She said nothing.

Alex was silent, his eyes on the road, a muscle working in his jaw.

He didn't explain Tori's presence. He didn't need to.

He didn't take her back to the penthouse.

Instead, he drove to another high-society event – a garden party this time.

"PR," he muttered, as if that explained everything.

She was his albatross, a public display of his supposed decency.

The whispers followed her as she limped slightly, her bandaged wrist conspicuous.

"That's the girl who was with him before Victoria."

"Quite a step down, wasn't she?"

"I heard she's some sort of charity case."

Alex, meanwhile, was the charming host, fetching Tori drinks, draping his jacket over her shoulders when the evening breeze picked up.

His gaze, when it fell on Tori, was tender.

Maya felt like a ghost, haunting the edges of his perfect life.

Tori, spotting Maya alone, linked her arm through hers.

"Come, Maya, you must meet my friends. They're dying to get to know you."

Her smile was predatory.

Tori's friends were a pack of exquisitely dressed vultures.

They surrounded Maya, their questions like tiny, sharp barbs.

They spoke in rapid-fire French, then giggled when Maya looked confused.

"Oh, forgive us," one of them drawled, switching to flawless English. "We just assumed anyone in Alex's circle would be... conversant."

Tori "apologized" for them. "They're just being silly, Maya. Don't mind them."

They mocked her dress, her shoes, her lack of knowledge of designer brands.

"Is that from... a department store?" one asked, her lip curled in disdain.

Maya felt her cheeks burn.

She stood silent, enduring their casual cruelty, her nails digging into her uninjured palm.

Each word was like swallowing shards of glass.