Chapter 636 The Weight on Samuel's Heart
Taylor had been an open book to Julian.
He knew her too well.
And his approach was nothing short of terrifying. Who else would open with an eighty-billion-dollar gesture just to make their intentions clear?
Avery had warned her that a man like Julian was too aggressive, too relentless, and that Taylor would never be able to handle him.
But Taylor had no desire to conquer anyone. To her, Julian was a puzzle—one that invited her to pull at the threads, to see just how many ways he could charm a woman behind closed doors.
She admitted it—she was a little obsessed.
Thank God Luna was here.
Otherwise, she wasn't sure she could promise they wouldn't cross a line. Men and women had needs—Taylor wasn't ashamed of that—but if she wanted something real, jumping into bed now would cheapen it.
That night, Luna stayed over. Julian left in the dead of night.
Sometime past midnight, Taylor woke to the soft percussion of rain against the window, each drop a restless whisper that kept her from sleep.
In her arms, Luna slept soundly.
That small, warm body nestled against her was the kind of comfort that could rival anything beautiful in the world.
By three a.m., Taylor couldn't resist. She slipped out of bed, padded to the window, and pulled back the curtain.
Through the haze of rain, she saw him—Julian. Sitting in his car, driver's-side window half-down, his profile cut in perfect lines.
Taylor had seen her share of beautiful people.
But never had anyone hit her like this. He looked like a painting etched into the rain-soaked night, every angle of his face deliberate, as if crafted by a patient hand.
He sat quietly, sometimes glancing at his phone, sometimes taking a slow drag from a cigarette.
He was waiting for someone.
Taylor let the curtain fall, her heartbeat pounding in her ears.
In the morning, she received breakfast—and a message.
Julian: [Service from your resident heartthrob.]
She stared at the words, pulse skipping.
Julian was making her lose her balance.
Later that morning, after finishing a surgery, Taylor wandered through the hospital. She didn't expect to end up near the fire escape in the inpatient wing, where the muffled voices of a man and woman drifted up the stairwell.
"Divorce her, and I'll give Thalassa back to you."
"Zenobia, I don't believe you."
"Leo, once you sign those papers, I'll be Mrs. Collins. Do you have any idea what that means? That's a life you've never even seen. I'll give you five hundred thousand dollars—enough to pay for Thalassa's surgery and clear your debts."
Leo hesitated.
He despised Zenobia's faithlessness, but he loved Thalassa more than anything. If she could be cured, if the debts were gone, he could take her back home and start over.
Zenobia turned her head—and froze when she saw Taylor standing on the steps.
Taylor, in her white coat, no makeup, and yet carrying a presence that made Zenobia's stomach knot. It was a height she could never reach. But once she became Samuel's wife, she'd be in the same league. Or so she told herself.
Leo saw Taylor too.
He looked at Zenobia.
Zenobia sneered through clenched teeth. "That's Samuel's ex-wife."
Leo fell silent.
Taylor's face didn't change—no joy, no anger. When Leo finally left, Zenobia gave a bitter smile. "Dr. Montague, want to hear my story?"
She wasn't arrogant; she knew better than to cross the Montague Pharmaceutical Group, and Avery was even more dangerous. The truth was, she'd only managed to take Samuel because Taylor had let go.
Zenobia began speaking as if to herself. "Leo and I started out happy. He came from a respectable family. But two years into the marriage, I realized how narrow my happiness really was. Eight grand a month might sound fine, but next to real wealth, it's nothing.
"One night, I went to pick him up. I saw him being pressured to drink for a deal, and then someone flung a wad of bills over his head just for laughs. That was the moment I understood the humiliation of being Leo's wife—and caught my first glimpse of the perverse amusements of the rich."
Zenobia drew a slow, deliberate breath. "Then a local trust-fund brat—filthy rich—set his sights on me.
"That night, I surrendered to both his wealth and his flesh. I pleased him, and he handed me a hundred thousand dollars—an entire year of Leo's salary.
"The cruelest part? While I was with that man, Leo was telling me he'd saved enough to buy me a lipstick. A lipstick! And I had just made enough to buy hundreds of them in a single night."
Zenobia laughed.
Her eyes glistened. "Dr. Montague, women like me—without a safety net—have to find a place to land. Leo was never mine."
Taylor listened quietly.
She didn't bother arguing. Zenobia was trash. But Leo… and Thalassa… they didn't deserve this.
Then came the good news—Taylor had found a donor heart for Thalassa. In a month, the girl could have her surgery and live a healthy life.
Zenobia's expression softened for the first time. "Dr. Montague… thank you."
Taylor only smiled faintly.
When she visited Thalassa's room, Zenobia was gone—probably on a date. Two nurses watched over the girl.
Thalassa was playing with a toy Leo had brought her. Zenobia had thrown it away more than once, but Thalassa always found it again.
Taylor crouched beside her. Up close, she could see the resemblance to Leo. Maybe that was Zenobia's only mercy.
She reached out and patted Thalassa's head.
The girl froze.
"I miss my dad," she whispered. "Dr. Montague, my dad's not a bad man. He's just not as rich as Mr. Collins. Mom won't let me talk about him in front of others. But I want to live with him."
Taylor's eyes stung.
She hooked her pinky with Thalassa's. The girl hesitated, then looked up with tear-bright eyes.
Taylor thought of Luna.
Luna had a good father too.
"When you're better," Taylor said softly, "you can live wherever you want."
Thalassa clung to her finger.
Leaving the room, Taylor felt a heaviness in her chest. She despised Zenobia, pitied Leo and Thalassa. But she was a doctor—not a judge, not a moral executioner.
Her phone rang. Julian's voice was as smooth as ever, laced with something almost teasing, "How was last night?"
Taylor felt a flicker of embarrassment.
Julian, amused, let out a low chuckle. "I meant your first night taking care of a child."
She was sure he was baiting her, but she wasn't about to let him think she'd been dwelling on that kiss.
"Luna's an angel," she said lightly.
Julian laughed again. "So are you."
"During the kiss, you clung to my shirt. And when you touched the back of my neck, I heard you whisper my name."
Taylor was about to snap when he changed tack. "Actually, I called to invite you to a banquet. The Chamber of Commerce is hosting it—supposed to be quite the event."
A banquet?
While she hesitated, Julian added, "Some of your old classmates will be there."
She thought it over and agreed.
At the same time, in a hotel suite.
After a rough round in bed, Zenobia lay slick with sweat against Samuel's chest, stroking his shoulder. "Samuel, I wish we could stay like this forever."
Samuel was in no mood.
Since divorcing Taylor, he'd been restless. Her parents refused his calls, Avery—once his brother-in-law—mocked him openly and sabotaged him quietly.
Samuel was bitter.
And when he was bitter, he took it out on Zenobia. Luckily, she could handle him—every demand, every whim—and she had tricks that kept him intrigued. They'd been meeting often lately, but he never took her home.
Zenobia knew why.
He still wasn't over Taylor.
She didn't mind. She had other ways to push him into making her official. When he moved to get up, she pressed a hand to his hip.
His eyes darkened.
With a coy smile, she gave him everything she had, until he was breathless.
Afterward, Samuel brushed her cheek with his fingers. "What kind of jewelry do you want? I'll have Quentin get it for you."
Zenobia rolled over, straddling him. "I want to go to the Chamber's banquet."
Samuel hesitated.
Private hotel rooms were one thing. Taking her out in public was another—it meant making her official.
He liked her, even felt for her and Thalassa. They were together now, and marriage seemed like the logical next step. But the truth was…
Taylor's place in his life wasn't one he was ready to give away.
Zenobia's eyes shimmered with tears. "Samuel, am I just a whore to you? Someone you use until you're bored?"
He sighed, irritated but not immune to her.
"Don't be ridiculous."
"Then take me. Or are you ashamed of me?"
His mouth opened, then closed again.
In the end, he agreed.
Zenobia cupped his face and kissed him sweetly. "I knew it. I'm the only one in your heart."
For a heartbeat, Samuel's handsome features grew distant, his gaze slipping past her.
He knew exactly who truly lived in his heart.
And in the still hours of the night, on that familiar bed, he knew—with a quiet, unshakable certainty—it was not her.