Max's POV
The ceremony blurred into a haze of vows, rings, and applause. The kind of performance people dressed in pearls and tailored suits lived for—polished, picture-perfect, dripping in money and expectation.
I sat through it with my jaw clenched, one hand resting loosely on my knee, the other caught in Alissa's possessive grip. Her nails, painted a sugary pink, dug lightly into my skin every time Maddy shifted in her seat. Six months pregnant, Alissa had made a show of her bump tonight, the clingy satin of her dress straining under the sequins. She'd spent the drive here griping about the guest list, about the food, about Maddy.
My eyes weren't on the bride. Not on Amelia in her cathedral veil or George with his smug grin.
They were on Maddy.
She rose with the rest of
