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 41 Kitchen Meetings Maddox
"Who's watching Jax?" I asked, grabbing a towel and running it through my damp hair. Fuck, I feel better. At my lowest point, Sophia's heartbeat pulled me back, saving me again. She made me forget the darkness, even if only for a moment, leaving just the shadows of our souls intertwined. For a second, I was gone—disoriented, weightless. But she stepped into my hellhole and dragged me out.
I'll never shake this attachment I have to her because her love isn't ordinary. It's fierce, unwavering—exactly what I need. She makes me want to live. And that? That's fucking redemption. I had forgotten what it felt like to stand still and not feel pain, to exist without the weight of it pressing into my lungs.
Sophia, now towel-drying her curves, answered without looking up. "Mateo. He came by looking for you."
I froze mid-motion, my grip tightening around the towel. She trusted Mateo with Jax? Just like that? That must have been hard for her. My chest ached at the realization—she's trying. For me.
I fought the grin stretching across my face, but it was useless. I probably look like a psycho who just broke out of an asylum through the vents. So, I ducked my chin and focused on getting dressed, slipping on the pair of shorts I had grabbed earlier. Sophia was already moving, rushing just a little. I knew it was because leaving Jax with Mateo pushed her past her limits. And yet, she still did it.
Walking out of the bathroom, I tossed my dirty clothes onto a chair. Bad move. Sophia's frown was instant. Fuck, am I supposed to be clean now? Whatever. Tiny price to pay for this woman.
I smirked at her, head still too hazy from the shower sex to even bother forming a joke. God, I adore her. Every inch of my ruined heart belongs to her, and I don't even care if she wrecks it further.
Before we even reached the living room, I could hear the TV. Unlike me—who strolled in casually—Sophia walked with purpose.
Mateo, standing awkwardly at the edge of the couch, staring down at Jax like the kid had just asked him to explain quantum physics. Meanwhile, Jax sat on the floor, pointing aggressively at the TV. His little brows furrowed. "Why?" he pouted.
Mateo looked like he wanted to die. "I don't know, kid." He threw up his hands. "Fuck, I don't know. It's fake. Humans are not purple. You can't be purple."
Jax narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "They purple. Why I can't be?"
Mateo groaned, clearly out of his depth. "Because it's fake! It's a cartoon! You can't just—God, I don't know how to explain this to a damn toddler."
I pressed my lips together, barely holding back a laugh. Mateo, one of the most ruthless men I know, was getting annihilated by a one-year-old. And Jax wasn't buying a word of it. He pointed at the screen again, his tiny finger stabbing at the brightly colored characters. "You lie," he declared. "See? Purple."
