The moonlight danced through the windows of Maxwell's estate, its silver glow rivaled only by the radiance of Zoelle as she descended the stairs in her red dress.
Maxwell froze at the sight of her. He had imagined how stunning she might look, but the reality left him breathless. The dress hugged her figure perfectly, the deep crimson complementing her dark hair and luminous brown eyes. Those eyes… Maxwell found himself unable to look away, as if they held the answers to questions he didn't yet know how to ask.
"Zoelle," he said softly, his voice betraying a hint of awe. "You look… I don't think 'beautiful' is a strong enough word."
She stopped midway down the staircase, a faint blush warming her cheeks. "You're too kind," she replied, though her smile showed she appreciated the compliment.
"I mean it," Maxwell continued, his gaze never wavering. "You're… stunning. Absolutely stunning. Like you just walked out of a dream."
Zoelle reached the bottom of the stairs, smoothing the fabric of her dress nervously. "Well, you clean up pretty well yourself," she said, gesturing toward his crisp suit.
Maxwell chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. "I don't think anyone will be looking at me tonight." His eyes met hers again, and for a moment, the world outside seemed to fade away. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone look as perfect as you do right now."
Zoelle cleared her throat, breaking the intensity of the moment. "We should probably get going. Mr. Adam's waiting, and we have a castle to crash."
Maxwell nodded, though his gaze lingered on her for a heartbeat longer. "Right. Let's make an entrance they'll never forget."
---
The ballroom of the Jones Castle was filled with opulence and grandeur, but as Zoelle and Maxwell stepped into the room, all the finery seemed to pale in comparison. Conversations faltered, and every head turned to watch their arrival.
Zoelle felt the weight of the stares, but Maxwell's hand on hers gave her courage. She straightened her shoulders, her dark eyes scanning the crowd. Maxwell, seated in his wheelchair beside her, couldn't hide the proud smile tugging at his lips.
From across the room, Reynold froze, his drink forgotten in his hand. His sharp eyes locked onto Zoelle, a mix of disbelief and something darker flashing across his face. He had always admired her beauty, but seeing her now, radiant and confident beside another man, stirred a jealousy he couldn't suppress.
Elizabeth was the first to break the silence, her voice dripping with false warmth. "Maxwell! What an unexpected surprise. And who is this vision beside you?"
Maxwell's smile was polite but edged with steel. "Elizabeth, this is Zoelle. She's the reason I'm alive today."
Elizabeth's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, though her smile didn't falter. "How… lovely. It's so wonderful to see you up and about, Maxwell. We were all so worried."
Reynold finally moved, crossing the room with measured steps. His gaze remained fixed on Zoelle, and when he stopped before her, his voice was low, almost a whisper. "Zoelle… I didn't expect to see you here."
She met his eyes, her expression unreadable. "It seems we both enjoy surprises."
Reynold's jaw tightened as his gaze flicked to Maxwell, his jealousy thinly veiled. "And you're here with him?"
"Yes," Zoelle said firmly. "Maxwell is my friend. He's been through a lot, and I'm here to support him."
Reynold's lips pressed into a thin line, his frustration barely contained. "You shouldn't be here. This isn't your world—it's dangerous."
"I can handle myself," Zoelle replied, her voice steady. "And I'm here because I chose to be."
Maxwell, sensing the tension, interjected smoothly. "Reynold, I trust you'll show my companion the courtesy she deserves."
Reynold's eyes narrowed, his expression darkening. "Of course. Enjoy the evening."
As he walked away, his mind churned with conflicting emotions. Zoelle's presence was a distraction he couldn't afford, but the sight of her with Maxwell ignited a possessiveness he couldn't ignore.
---
Later, as the night unfolded, Maxwell and Zoelle found themselves alone on the balcony. The cool breeze tugged at her hair, and Maxwell couldn't resist reaching out to tuck a stray strand behind her ear.
"You're quiet," he observed. "What's on your mind?"
Zoelle leaned against the railing, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Just… everything. This place, this world of yours—it's overwhelming."
Maxwell wheeled closer, his hand brushing against hers. "I know it's a lot. But you're handling it better than I ever could've hoped."
She turned to face him, her dark eyes searching his. "I don't know what I'm doing here, Maxwell. I'm just a vet. I'm not cut out for… all of this."
"You're more than that," he said earnestly. "You're brave, compassionate, and—" He hesitated, his voice softening. "You're the most extraordinary person I've ever met."
Zoelle looked down, her cheeks warming under his gaze. "You give me too much credit."
"No," Maxwell said firmly. "I don't think I give you enough."
Their moment was interrupted as the door to the balcony creaked open. Reynold stepped out, his expression unreadable. "Zoelle, a word?"
Maxwell's eyes hardened, but Zoelle placed a reassuring hand on his arm before stepping away. Reynold waited until they were out of earshot before speaking.
"Why are you really here?" he asked, his voice laced with suspicion.
"I told you," Zoelle replied. "I'm here to support Maxwell."
Reynold's eyes burned into hers. "He's not what you think he is. None of us are. If you knew the truth…"
"Then tell me," she challenged, stepping closer. "Tell me what you're so afraid of."
Reynold hesitated, his jealousy warring with his desire to protect her. "You're in over your head," he said finally. "But if you stay… stay away from him."
Zoelle's lips curved into a defiant smile. "I'll make my own choices, Reynold. And you don't get to decide who I care about."
Reynold watched her walk away, his fists clenched at his sides. The night had only just begun, but the battle for Zoelle's heart was already underway.