Chapter 637 Bitterness Beneath the Banquet Lights 1
Saturday night, Regal Hotel Ballroom.
Samuel had not expected to see Taylor here.
He spotted her across the room, a glass of red wine in hand, speaking with an older guest. Because of her family name and her own accomplishments, she was a natural focal point of the evening. People approached her one after another, eager to make connections, but she politely declined them all.
She was stunning tonight.
A moon-white silk gown draped perfectly over her curves, understated yet impossible to ignore. The only jewelry she wore was a pair of four-carat diamond drop earrings, catching the light every time she moved her head. The effect was devastating.
Samuel felt his breath hitch. Without meaning to, he murmured, "Taylor."
Beside him, Zenobia's smile tightened. She told herself she didn't care. After all, he and Taylor were divorced. Even if Samuel wanted to go back, Taylor would never take him.
She tightened her grip on his arm and said in a syrupy voice, "Samuel, should we say hello to Dr. Montague?"
Samuel wanted to speak to Taylor. Just not with Zenobia hanging on his arm.
He glanced down at his date. Zenobia's fire-red slip dress clung to her tall, toned frame. Paired with millions of dollars' worth of jewelry, she was dazzling in her own way—just not in the way Taylor was. Taylor was... effortless.
A faint sense of loss stirred in him. Then Taylor turned, her gaze colliding with his.
Former spouses, face to face. Neither spoke.
Taylor's eyes flicked to Zenobia, pressed close to Samuel's side like a newlywed bride. The red dress made the message obvious.
Zenobia, feeling the weight of Taylor's gaze, clung tighter to Samuel's arm to mask her unease. This was her first time in a room like this.
Samuel's mind stuttered. He cleared his throat, trying to free his arm, but Zenobia only held on harder.
"Taylor," he said at last.
Taylor looked at the picture they made and almost laughed. But she lifted her wine glass in a graceful salute before turning back to her conversation. The older gentleman she was speaking with—an old friend of Henry's—recognized Samuel. His eyes flicked to the couple and he smiled faintly.
"Samuel's new lady suits him," the man said.
Taylor's lips curved. "She does."
The man patted her arm, his tone carrying an unspoken weight. "Best to let the past rest. Samuel's future—uncertain at best."
Taylor didn't press for details; she already suspected Julian's hand in it.
Meanwhile, in the dim parking garage, Julian was retrieving her shawl.
Before they'd arrived, there had been a kiss in the car. This time, deeper than the last.
When her conversation ended, Taylor stepped out onto the terrace for air, hoping to cool the heat in her cheeks. But an unwelcome voice followed her.
"Dr. Montague, may I have a word?"
She turned to see Zenobia.
Without waiting for permission, Zenobia approached, fingers twisting the hem of her dress. She mimicked Taylor's stance, gazing out over the city lights before turning to her.
"I know you look down on me," Zenobia began. "On my background. On the way I took Samuel from you. But like it or not, we're on the same side now.
"Maybe I'm not your equal yet. But once I finalize my divorce and become Mrs. Collins, I'll build my network. One day, I'll take your place as the center of attention."
Taylor smiled faintly, offering no rebuttal. The Montague family's legacy was not something one could match by clinging to a Samuel Collins.
Her only concern was Thalassa.
She was about to ask where Leo was when Julian appeared. In a black tuxedo, with his striking features, he stood out even in this glittering crowd.
He draped the shawl over her shoulders with quiet care.
"All done with your chat?" he asked.
Taylor murmured a yes.
Her fingers brushed the fabric, pressing against his hand. His gaze deepened, like a night sky drawing her in. They both remembered the heat of the car.
Taylor's chin tilted up, her fingers finding his shoulder before he caught her hand and guided it over the planes of his face—lingering at the bridge of his nose until her cheeks warmed.
His forehead rested against hers as his voice dropped low, "Do you like it?"
Her face flushed at the memory. But she was too composed to lose control here. She shook her head lightly.
Julian caught her hand again, just for a moment.
The intimacy between them was impossible to miss.
Zenobia watched, jealousy burning. She forced a smile toward Julian. "Mr. Learmond, is it? I'm Samuel's girlfriend."
She thought she had beaten Taylor in the game of allure. She refused to believe Julian wouldn't be tempted, especially with the dress she had chosen tonight.
She was wrong.
Julian's glance was brief, his tone cool. "Sorry. I don't know Samuel."
Zenobia's cheeks burned.
Samuel returned just then, riding high on the success of a new deal—until he saw Julian beside Taylor. The sight stripped away his good mood like a rug pulled from under him. His chest tightened, his pulse kicked up, and an almost primitive urge to put Julian on the floor surged through him.
Zenobia hurried to his side, clutching his arm. "Samuel, this is Julian Learmond," she said brightly. "Founder and CEO of SamZen Tech. Net worth in the hundreds of billions."
Julian's brow lifted. "Mr. Collins. A pleasure."
Then, with a faint smile, "I'd say you have some bad luck headed your way in the next three days."
Samuel's laugh was sharp. "So you're not only in the business of seducing other men's wives, you tell fortunes too? Why don't you predict whether you'll ever get through the Montague family's front door?"
Julian's smile widened. "Been through twice already."
Samuel froze.
"And I brought an engagement gift. Taylor loved it."
Taylor wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn't deny the warm satisfaction of having someone in her corner. She squeezed Julian's fingers lightly. "Julian."
He looked down at her, his gaze holding a quiet intensity.
Samuel's voice was hoarse, "Taylor."