Hailey's POV
The reception hall glittered like a fever dream: crystal, champagne, candlelight reflecting off mirrors that made the crowd seem endless. Three hundred guests or more in designer everything, all watching us.
Maxwell's hand never left my body.
At this champagne toast, his palm pressed against my lower back. During dinner, his fingers traced patterns on my thigh under the table. When we stood to greet guests, he kept me tucked against his side like I was on leash.
"Smile," he whispered in my ear as another board member approached.
I forced my mouth to curve, but kept my voice low. "I know how to smile."
"Then do it without looking like you want to run." He said, his voice low and controlled.
"Maybe I do want to run." I leaned into him slightly for show. "From you bossin
