David Vance did not loosen his hold.
His fingers stayed buried tightly in Maya’s hair while a smug smile spread over his face.
From across the table, Elena—Maya’s mother—felt ice move through her veins.
“Don’t you ever humiliate me in front of my family again,” David hissed, loud enough for the nearby tables to hear.
Maya shook.
At only twenty-nine, she wore a plain blue blouse and enough makeup to cover the tiredness beneath her eyes—but not enough to make it disappear.
Across from her sat David’s mother, Rebecca.
Wearing pearls and deep red lipstick, she watched everything with absolute calm.
Then she smiled.