Fated Series. Book #2
"Be possessive of me, own me, keep me, because if you do then nothing and no one else can." - Maddox.
My name is Maddox Vallero, and I'm dead.
Well, that's not quite true. I'm alive in the breathing, walking, talking sense-but...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Chapter 21 A Foxy Grin Sophia
Grabbing my Louboutins, I hooked them lazily over my finger as I stepped out of the closet, my maroon silk dress flowing behind me like liquid fire. The fabric clung to every curve, slick and elegant, shaping itself perfectly to my body in a way that felt both empowering and dangerous. The neckline dipped just enough to hint at cleavage without crossing into overbearing, striking the perfect balance between sophistication and allure. As I moved, the dress seemed to catch the light in subtle ways, the rich, deep red making my skin glow, a reminder that tonight I needed to look and feel my best—even if nerves twisted in my stomach.
I shoved the feeling aside.
Saying yes to Maddox's invitation had felt like the right choice at the time, but now? I wasn't so sure. His fox-like eyes had made it impossible to turn him down, though—those soft, pleading looks that made me weak. The thought of him at the event alone had haunted me all week. The crowd, the endless small talk, the constant attention... all of it would eat away at him, and I couldn't stand the idea of letting him handle it on his own. Protecting him from that kind of stress felt instinctual, like something I had to do. But it wasn't just about protecting him, was it? The idea of him going with someone else had lingered in my mind like a spark threatening to set me on fire.
The sharp chime of the doorbell sliced through the chaos of my spiraling thoughts, grounding me in the present whether I was ready for it or not. Amy would get the door—she was staying with Jax tonight—but the sound jolted me, snapping me out of the trance I hadn't even realized I'd fallen into.
My gaze drifted back to the mirror, where my reflection stared back, polished and composed on the outside but far less certain underneath. A loose curl had slipped over my shoulder, and I reached up to adjust it, my fingers smoothing it into place as I double-checked the pin holding it together. It felt steady enough, much like the rest of me appeared—outwardly calm, but fragile if inspected too closely. My lips, painted in their signature bold red, matched the deep maroon of my dress and the energy I was trying to channel. Red always made me feel powerful, like I could take on anything.
Tonight, though, that power felt paper-thin, an illusion that might crumble the second I leaned too hard on it. The part of me that second-guesses everything—that overthinking, relentless part—kept whispering warnings about how dangerous this was. Maddox and I were already walking a tightrope with our secret, and showing up to this event together felt like stepping too close to the flame.
But I'd made my decision. Backing out wasn't an option, no matter how unsettled I felt.
I'd spent my whole life pretending—pretending I was confident, pretending I had it all under control. This was no different. Tonight, Maddox needed someone to steady him, someone who could help him navigate the crowds and the chaos without tipping over the edge, and I'd promised to be that person. Whatever fears or doubts I had, they would have to take a backseat.
