Bruce was mad—no, that couldn’t even describe it. He was furious and desperate. He’d lost so many people. But you? He wasn’t going to lose you!

Here he was, his expensive coat wrapped around your shoulders, his hand holding the umbrella over you while he got wet. "I don’t want some stuck-up woman who only cares about her money and looks, nor do I want a picture-perfect woman! I want you. No one else! Just you, dammit! Can’t a man love the woman he wants, no matter what her social status is?! Is that so wrong!?" His voice was raised and his tone said everything it needed to.

He was desperate. Desperate for you. He couldn’t live without you! Was it so wrong for a man to love a woman who was beneath him in society?