Page 96 of When Hearts Surrender

“Imagine being so stupid and stubborn you don’t know when to quit.”

I straighten and meet his glare head on. “There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me give up my position at McKenzie’s. Just like there’s nothing you can do that’ll make my parents give you our family business. You may fool everyone with your fake smiles and compliments, but you aren’t fooling me. And the moment I take control of the company, you’re the first person I’ll fire. So why don’t you do us all a favor and quit now beforeyourun the company my grandpa created to the ground?”

“Youbitch,” he yells and a few bystanders gasp. Then, I see several flashes of white light.

Dang it, the paparazzi.

Fury burns inside me, the inferno threatening to swallow me whole, but I fake a smile instead. I won’t let him make a fool out of me and win. That’s probably his game, anyway.

“Excuse me, Gordon, I have to go back to the ball I’m hosting with my husband. I don’t have time for your petty and meaningless mind games.”

Spinning around, I walk toward the ballroom when he chuckles behind me.

“You don’t have the talent to make it, so you’re sleeping your way up the food chain, huh? Man, I wish I were a woman and I could do the same. Find a rich, powerful husband, andpoof, all my worries would disappear.”

More shocked gasps echo in the foyer and heat rushes to my face. Curling my fist, I turn around, needing to give this man a piece of my mind, and maybe a knuckle sandwich—

“Apologize to her.”

The deep, quiet voice promises blood and violence, and my breathing quickens.

Maxwell steps out of the shadows in the corridor, his jaw locked, lips twitching in fury as he slowly stalks toward Gordon.

“Apologize at once,” he rasps again, his footsteps measured.

“I…I…” Gordon stutters. The lecher backs up slowly, clearly sensing someone whose control is about to snap.

Maxwell continues stalking toward him until he’s backed up against the wall.

Gordon swallows, his pale face flushed red, and he tries to stand on tiptoes, a poor effort to appear taller than Maxwell, who towers over him by half a foot.

“I’m an artist who is uncompromising in my beliefs and I’m saying the truth. Nepotism is disgusting and you won’t silence me.”

Maxwell growls and fists Gordon’s shirt, dragging it up until he lifts Gordon off the ground.

“Howdareyou disrespect her inourhome atourparty?” His voice is a lethal whisper and his fists clench the shirt tighter. Gordon dangles midair, the sniveling idiot turning redder and sputtering.

“Howdareyou fucking disrespectmy wife!” Maxwell roars and the music inside the ballroom stops.

Flashes of bright lights erupt as the paparazzi have a field day.

I know I should stop him, should remind him people are watching and anything he says and does will be splashed all over the front pages tomorrow.

But I don’t.

Instead, my heart careens off a cliff. The burning rage inside me blazes into a sweltering hellfire of too many emotions to name. I want to pull him away, to kiss him, to hug him, to crawl all over him in appreciation for how he’s standing up for me.

The madman. The frigid king.

Myfrigid king. Beautiful scars and all.

“I don’t care if you’re the president of the fucking world. If you don’t apologize tomy wiferight now, I won’t be held responsible for choking you to death.”

He leans in so no one can hear him but Gordon and me. “And I can do it, make you disappear, and no one will ever know.”

A sharp heat travels to my clit and my core clenches as I take in Maxwell, his eyes wild and fevered, his biceps still bunched and flexed, barely shaking from holding up Gordon by the collar of his shirt.

“Maxwell,” I finally find my voice. “D-Don’t. Don’t do this, not in front of everyone. Not for him.”

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