Amelia POV

The silence in the car felt heavier than it should have.

Maxwell hadn’t let go of my hand since we left the gala, his fingers wrapped tightly around mine like he was afraid I might vanish into the night. I didn’t speak either. I didn’t need to. The questions from that tabloid rat still rang in both our ears, each word meant to slice, to humiliate. But none of it had broken me.

Not tonight.

Once we were inside the apartment, he turned to face me, jaw tight, guilt ...