Max didn't answer right away. Instead, he stepped out of the car and walked around to her side, opening the door for her.
"We'll be taking pictures after the marriage is registered," he said calmly. "You don't want to look like this in them."
Ruby glanced down at herself again in an oversized woven sweater, jeans, and worn sneakers. She let out a quiet breath. "I suppose not," she muttered.
"Come on," Max said, already offering his hand. "Let's get you into something appropriate."
Despite how exhausted she was, weeks without proper sleep, grief weighing heavily on her body, Ruby's beauty was impossible to ignore. There was something soft and untouched about her, an innocence that stood out even more against everything she'd been through.
And Max noticed it.
They walked into the boutique, where the attendants immediately straightened, their eyes flicking between them with curiosity and recognition. Ruby tried on several white outfits, one after another.
Each time she stepped out, Max paused. The dresses hugged her hourglass figure perfectly, as though they had been tailored just for her. Every cut, every fabric seemed to highlight a different side of her soft, elegant, and radiant.
Max cleared his throat. "Maybe… try the other ones too," he said, though his eyes lingered longer than necessary. It wasn't dissatisfaction. It was quite the opposite.
Finally, Ruby stepped out wearing a white jumpsuit. It fit her flawlessly, with clean lines, confident structure. It wasn't delicate or fragile. It was powerful.
She walked toward the mirror, adjusted the fabric, then gathered her long brown hair into a neat ponytail. A touch of lip gloss was all she added. She looked up.
For a moment, Max forgot how to breathe. She didn't just look like a bride. She looked like a woman about to rise strong, composed, and unknowingly breathtaking.
Max looked away first. "That one," he said quietly to himself.
"I like this," Ruby said finally, her voice quiet but certain. Max nodded. "Okay."
But inside, he agreed far more than he allowed to show. Ruby stepped out in the dress with a pair of matching silver heels, while Max walked to the counter. He pulled out a black platinum card and placed it on the glass.
"I'll take it," he said evenly. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "And every dress she tried on. Including the ones on that rack." The attendant's eyes widened. "All of them, sir?"
"Yes." There were over fifty white dresses, eight of which Ruby had tried on, the rest untouched but carefully selected. The attendant smiled professionally, already signaling for assistance.
"Yes, sir."
By the time Max stepped outside, Ruby was standing near the entrance, her arms wrapped around herself as she watched cars pass by. She looked small again, guarded.
"Shall we?" Max asked gently. Without thinking, he reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Ruby stiffened.
The sudden touch startled her, and Max felt it immediately. The excitement he hadn't realized was showing flickered out at once. "I…sorry," he said, pulling his hand back. His voice returned to its usual calm. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
Ruby forced a small smile and took a step back. "It's fine," she said, though it clearly wasn't. They walked back to the car in silence.
Soon, they were back on the road, the city moving around them while something quiet and complicated settled between them. A few moments later, they stepped out of the courthouse, a thin folder tucked between them. Inside it lay a marriage certificate, neat, official, irreversible.
Ruby stopped walking. She stared down at the printed names as if they might rearrange themselves if she blinked hard enough.
Married. Just like that.
"Here," Max said, breaking the silence. He handed her a black card, sleek, weightless, limitless. "As Mrs. Maximillian Byron, you should live up to the status. Buy whatever you need. Whatever you want."
Ruby didn't take it immediately. Her fingers trembled slightly as she finally rejected the card. "Why did you marry me?" she asked. Her voice was calm, but her thoughts weren't. What if he were worse than Seron? What if he wanted obedience, silence, submission?
Max noticed the fear beneath her composure. He exhaled softly, then spoke, "I have an international deal coming up," he said. "The investors are family-oriented. They're Indian. A forty-year-old bachelor doesn't inspire confidence. They want stability."
That wasn't entirely a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either.
Ruby frowned."Why me?" she asked again. "There are millions of women who would kill to be your wife. Why choose me?" Max paused, eyes forward.
"I needed someone I could trust," he said evenly. "And I thought I could trust you." Then he added, "You also said yes. If you hadn't, I would've found someone else."
The answer felt cold, but it settled something inside her. "I won't stay home and be a trophy wife," Ruby said firmly. "I already lost seven years of my life once. I won't repeat that mistake even in a contract marriage."
Max turned to her. "I already arranged for you to join the company." She blinked, surprised.
"Good," she said quickly. "And no intimacy." "Anything you want," Max replied without hesitation.
That was what unsettled her. "Why are you being so… agreeable?" Ruby asked, suspicion creeping into her voice. Max studied her for a moment, then spoke.
"I do have one question," he said. "And one condition." Ruby stiffened.
Here it comes, she thought. The price. The bomb she had been waiting for him to drop. She lifted her chin. "Here it comes, what is the question, sir?" she said quietly.
"Are you still in love with your ex-husband?" Max asked. Ruby almost laughed.
"What? Hell no," she replied instantly.
"Good," Max said, his tone firm. "Because I want to be sure you understand the difference between being Mrs. Seron Byron… and Mrs. Maximillian Byron." There was something final in his words, like a door closing.
"You have nothing to worry about," Ruby said coolly. "Even if I ever cheated, and I won't, it would be after the contract ends. And certainly not with your stepson." Max's jaw tightened, but a trace of relief flickered through his eyes.
"Well," Ruby added, turning away, "I should go. See you soon, sir." Before she could take another step, Max caught her wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"And drop the 'sir,'" he added. "Isn't that a little too formal? I'm your husband now." She hesitated, then sighed. "Alright, Mr. Byron. I'm heading back to my hotel."
Max raised a brow.