Walter stepped out looking flawless.
White sweater. Pressed pants. Perfect hair.
The kind of man who looks expensive without trying.
I forced myself forward.
“Please,” I said, keeping my head down. “Sir… could you help me? I haven’t eaten in two days.”
He looked at me.
For a second, something flickered in his eyes.
Something I couldn’t read.
Then it vanished.
He reached into his wallet and handed me a few bills.
“Here,” he said calmly. “There’s a deli across the street. Go get food and water.”
My heart slammed into my ribs.
It worked. He was kind.
Maybe I was insane. Maybe I’d almost destroyed a good man because of gossip.
My hands shook as I slowly pulled the scarf away.
“It’s me,” I said quietly.
Walter stared like he’d seen a ghost.
One blink. Two.
And then his face… changed.
The softness snapped off like a mask being ripped away.
“Ava?” he said, voice sharp. “What the hell is this?”
I swallowed.
“I needed to know who I’m marrying,” I said. “I needed to see if you’d still be kind if there was nothing in it for you.”
His eyes went dark.
“You set me up?” he snapped.
“No—”
“You tricked me,” he cut in, voice rising. “You humiliated me.”
People started watching.
Valet stand. Bistro windows. Heads turning.
“Walter, I just—”
He stepped closer.
“You think dressing up in garbage makes you noble?” he hissed. “You don’t get to manipulate me and cry victim.”
My skin went cold.
Because this wasn’t embarrassment anymore.
This was rage.
And then he grabbed my arm.
Not gentle.
Not playful.
Possessive.
“Let go,” I said.
He didn’t.
I tried to pull away.
He shoved me.
I fell back hard, palms scraping the pavement, hip smashing the curb.
And in that second—on the ground, looking up at him—my brain finally stopped negotiating.
This wasn’t a bad moment.
This was the real man.
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
