(Maxwell’s POV)
*
I stood at the edge of the ballroom, with a drink on one hand, watching another man parading my ex-wife like he owned her. The scene unfolds before me like a slow-motion nightmare. I hated it. I hated seeing someone else touching Layla.
There at the centre of the dance floor was the woman who used to be the love of my life, my first love and the wife that had devoted her life for me. I clenched my fist in my pocket seeing her being swooped in and whisked away into a world of wealth and luxury.
It made me wonder if she had been lying to me all this while. I had never actually met her family, which she said was poor and her marriage to me was her ticket to freedom. Or had she been lying to me all these years.
How did she get into an exclusive rich family li
