Chapter 645 Samuel's Wedding: A Spectacle to Remember 2
Samuel stepped into the office with an invitation in hand.
It didn't take a genius to guess his purpose — the same as Zenobia's.
Leaning back on the sofa, Taylor rubbed her temple, her voice edged with fatigue. "If you're here to deliver a wedding invitation, you're too late. Your future wife already beat you to it. She didn't tell you?"
Samuel froze, only then noticing Zenobia in the room.
Zenobia's expression faltered. She had just blocked Geraldo's number, and now Samuel was here.
Taylor's eyes flicked from one to the other, sharp and knowing. Zenobia had another man. Samuel's image of her as devoted and gentle was a farce. Aside from not being divorced from Leo, she was entertaining someone else on the side.
But Taylor didn't say a word. She wasn't here to fix Samuel's love life — she had told him before, this was the road he chose.
Samuel looked at Zenobia, displeasure darkening his gaze, but his pride wouldn't let him show it.
He slipped an arm around her shoulders, playing the part of the loving fiancé. "Well, since Zenobia already gave you one, I'll just tell you in person. Don't forget to come to the wedding."
He added, "Bring that new boyfriend of yours too."
Taylor's smile was cool. "Of course."
Samuel opened his mouth to say more, but Taylor had no interest in indulging them. She called Molly in to see them out, her face settling back into its usual calm.
Looking at that cold expression, Samuel was reminded of their marriage — the same distance, the same chill.
As they left, he pulled Zenobia close and murmured, "I'll treat you twice as well from now on."
The words rang strangely in his own ears. He had said them before, to Taylor, on their wedding day. Back then, he had promised forever. Now they were strangers, each with someone new.
Zenobia leaned into him, smiling sweetly.
Samuel studied her face, his mind already calculating. The mysterious attack on SamZen Tech had gutted his personal fortune, leaving him with less than two hundred million in liquid assets. But the company's stock price had held. That was what mattered.
In this moment, he told himself he truly wanted a life with Zenobia. Or maybe he simply had no other choice — Taylor was gone for good.
Just then, Zenobia's phone rang again.
She wasn't worried. It couldn't be Geraldo — she had blocked him. She answered in front of Samuel, but the moment she heard the voice on the other end, her breath caught.
It was Geraldo.
Before she could speak, he said, "Eight o'clock. Same place."
Her pulse spiked. Samuel was right there.
She mumbled, "Wrong number," and hung up.
Geraldo knew she would come. He knew she wouldn't dare refuse him. And besides, a few days without her and she would be restless.
Samuel glanced at her. "Who was that?"
"Scam call," she said with a strained smile.
He launched into a brief lecture about phone scams, and the moment passed.
By seven that evening, Samuel was still at the hospital. Zenobia kept glancing at the clock, anxious that Geraldo might call again. She urged Samuel to leave. At seven-thirty, he finally did, touched by what he saw as her concern for him.
The moment he was gone, she began getting ready.
Thalassa watched from the sofa, small and fragile. "Mom, are you going out again?" she asked in a thin voice.
Zenobia brushed her off.
The child, already insecure from years of neglect, shrank back into silence. The nurse nearby pitied her, but no one could stop Zenobia.
At exactly eight, Zenobia arrived at the hotel. Geraldo opened the door, his gaze sweeping over her camel coat. He knew what was underneath would be far less modest. He stepped aside to let her in.
There were no pleasantries. They went straight to bed.
After several rounds, Zenobia lay against him, skin damp, her voice breathless. "I can't see you anymore. I'm getting married."
Geraldo lit a cigarette, exhaling smoke with a soft laugh. "To Samuel?"
She froze. It didn't take long for her to realize he had sought her out because of Samuel.
Her voice trembled. "What do you want?"
He studied her pale face, then pinched her cheek lightly, his tone a mix of mockery and charm. "Relax. I'm not going to tell him."
"Really?" she asked, wary.
"What would I gain from ruining your little arrangement? But if I keep your secret, what do I get in return?"
Zenobia hesitated. She was about to be Mrs. Collins. Another man was a risk.
Reading her, Geraldo said smoothly, "You're saving yourself for Samuel, but he's not saving himself for you. If he really wanted you, would you be here with me tonight?"
The words hit their mark.
Samuel didn't love her. His heart belonged to Taylor. So why should she keep herself for him?
The thought settled, and Zenobia's restraint vanished. She pulled him back into bed.
They matched each other, neither holding back.
Later that night, Taylor was packing up to leave when Julian arrived to pick her up. She slipped on her coat, ready to go, but he paused, picking up the invitation on her desk. "Samuel's getting married?"
She smiled faintly. "Yes. He made sure to hand-deliver it."
Julian opened it. His name was there too. His gaze met hers. "Will you take me with you?"
"Do you want to go?" she asked softly.
It would mean going public. With her family name and his status, it would be significant.
Julian didn't answer right away. He looked at her, her face luminous under the light. They hadn't been intimate in weeks — she had been busy with surgeries. He respected her work, never pushing. He simply came to pick her up, cooked her late dinners, and brought Luna to see her in the mornings. Being with him was… easy.
He stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her. His coat was cold from outside, and her cheek felt chilled against his shoulder until his warmth seeped in. She didn't know when she had started wanting to stay like this.
"Julian," she murmured after a long moment, tilting her head to look at him.
His eyes were deep, warm. He loosened his hold just enough to reach into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box.
She looked up at him, and he gave her a subtle nod to open it.
Inside was a flawless four-carat diamond ring.
His voice was low, almost rough. "This will be our wedding ring. You can wear it anytime except during surgery. For events, I'll get you something else. I chose this ring myself. It's perfect."
She reached for it, but he caught her hand first. "Let me."
When he knelt before her, ring in hand, her heart gave a small, unexpected leap. The words were romantic, maybe even a little over the top, but she believed him. Julian was nothing if not sincere.
She didn't regret the past — not missing her chance with him when they were younger, not her marriage to Samuel. In this moment, she felt content. She had Julian now.
He slid the ring onto her finger and kissed her hand. "Dr. Montague, let's spend the rest of our lives together."
"Yes..." she whispered, eyes bright with unshed tears.
She wasn't the sentimental type, but as she looked at him, she knew he must have loved her for a long time.
"Julian," she said again, crouching to touch his hair. "Let's be together from now on."
He cupped her face, memorizing her, and then they kissed — long, deep, and consuming.
That night, she stayed with him.
Three days later, it was Samuel's wedding.
He had spared no expense despite the short notice, hosting ninety-nine tables at the Regal Hotel for Evergreen City's elite. Whether out of curiosity or genuine goodwill, the turnout was impressive.
Zenobia was radiant. In a couture gown worth over a million dollars and dripping in jewels, she was the center of attention. Every guest called her Mrs. Collins.
Taylor arrived with Julian and Luna. She wore a simple cashmere dress under a black coat, understated but elegant. Julian, in a crisp white shirt and black overcoat, drew as many eyes as the groom.
Samuel was about to make a cutting remark when his gaze caught on Taylor's hand. The diamond on her ring finger glinted under the lights. His face drained of color.
"You're getting married?" he asked.
Taylor didn't deny it. She glanced at Julian with a small smile. "Yes. Probably next year."
Samuel's voice was tight. "Taylor, you don't have to—"
"Samuel," she cut in, "your wedding hasn't even started and you're already drunk? Wake up. We've been divorced for a long time."
He looked like a man defeated.
Before he could reply, Geraldo appeared, all charm. "Mr. Collins, congratulations."
Samuel shook his hand. Geraldo greeted Taylor and Julian, then turned to Zenobia with a smile. "You're a lucky man, Mr. Collins. Mrs. Collins is stunning."
Samuel barely noticed the subtle signal Geraldo gave Zenobia.
She noticed. And she was furious.
Samuel had eyes only for Taylor. Zenobia decided she would make him pay — tonight.
She excused herself to the restroom but went instead to a private lounge where Geraldo was waiting.
What happened there was heated and unapologetic. Geraldo had his tastes, and Zenobia knew how to match them. She clung to him, moaning his name, Samuel forgotten.
She didn't hear the door open.
Samuel stood in the doorway, watching them.
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