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...
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Chapter 29 Nuisance For Lunch Maddox
Sitting in my office, I half-listened as Sophia ran through my talking points for the upcoming interview, while simultaneously texting under the table like a distracted schoolboy. And I was doing a shit job of hiding it—she'd already caught on, frowning at me in that disapproving way she does when I'm being impossible. But I had my own agenda for this interview.
We did them once a month—Mateo and I sitting down with some trusted reporter while they asked us bullshit questions about our lives. The world was nosy, obsessed with knowing every personal detail about us. None of it mattered, but it boosted our publicity, so here we were.
My phone buzzed in my hand, pulling my attention down again.
Josh: If you weren't my boss, I'd respond with a different answer. But since you are my boss... I'm here and waiting.
I snorted, typing back.
Me: I'm curious about your different answer. Tell me.
Josh: I'd say you're impatient as fuck.
Me: True that. Come on...
Josh: The line is huge.
Me: Dude, you're huge. Just knock them all out.
Josh: raised brow emoji
I sighed at Josh's response and tossed my phone onto the table, miscalculating the angle. It hit the edge, flipped midair, and crashed onto the floor with a loud thud.
Sophia stopped mid-sentence. Her ocean eyes lifted from her notes, cool and sharp, cutting straight through me. Those eyes had my entire world in them—tidal waves that pulled me under, hurricanes that left destruction in their wake. Pressing her blood-red lips together, she exhaled slowly, unimpressed.
I grinned. "Think it's broken?"
"You can hope," she said flatly, sliding her notepad onto the table and leaning back in her chair, arms crossing over her chest. She wasn't amused. Not even a little.
I stretched out, cracking my neck. "I'd be devastated, truly."
"Sure you would." She arched a brow but didn't take the bait. Instead, she adjusted the papers in front of her and got back to business. "Let's go over the questions you'll be asked. You need to answer in a way that highlights the company. No jokes, no nonsense, Maddox. Your PR team has already harassed me twice this morning to make sure you stay in line. We can't have another repeat of last time."
I snorted, dragging my hand down my face. "My response was valid."
"Your PR team didn't think so."
Not my problem.
I was asked about my thoughts on the cameraman I threw to the ground after he practically had his lens pressed against my cheek, and apparently, telling the truth is no longer the right thing to do. Because when I responded with, 'What's the problem? I'd do it again. I like my space, and if you invade, you deal with the consequences', my PR team lost their collective minds. Personally, I think my answer was just fine.
