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 44 Tell Me A Story Maddox
Staring out over New York City, I briefly considered whether setting myself on fire and diving out of this window might cure the boredom of this PR meeting. You'd think it'd be short—just a few comments about my relationship with Sophia being leaked. But no. I've been proven tragically wrong. Caleb, our PR advisor, has been running his mouth nonstop for over thirty minutes, rattling on about company image, risk mitigation, and public perception.
Yes, it's important. But it's also painfully, soul-crushingly boring.
All I care about is that my relationship is real and healthy.
You know who's not bored? Sophia. She's sitting there, legs crossed, nodding along like this guy's revealing the secret to surviving an apocalypse. Jesus. It's the media. Just throw them a middle finger and starve them. Not that complicated.
"Do you understand, Mr. Vallero?"
You know what? Because I've been held hostage in this hellhole of a meeting, I'm mentally rewarding myself with a—
"Maddox."
The voice yanked me from my thoughts. My gaze slid to Sophia, seated at the conference table, arms crossed, eyes burning through me. Somehow her stare always hits just beneath the skin, like a live wire. And that tan dress she's wearing? Square neckline, tight all the way down—short enough that I could slide my hand up and—
Right. Focus.
"That's me," I grinned, not even trying to hide the way I was staring at her.
Her expression flattened. "Did you hear anything Caleb said?"
Pushing off the window ledge I'd been leaning against, I made my way to the table, choosing not to sit. My back was already flaring up. "Yes, Soph. I heard most of it. I heard the protocol for how to respond, how to act, how to keep the company in a positive light, and exactly what people are saying."
Sophia sighed, motioning for Caleb to continue, but shot me a look so sharp it could've sliced right through my M&M-fueled apathy. She saw right through me—and I knew it. I answered with the same grin I always give her, the one that makes her press her lips together to stop from smiling, pretending I don't unravel her with just a wink. I live for that. For the way I can bring a woman like her—so composed, so powerful—to the edge without ever needing to push. And the truth? I've learned I prefer being the one on my knees in front of her. There's something about the way she holds herself—firm, unflinching, regal—that brings me undone every time.
Four days back from our weekend trip and the media's doubled down, acting like we're fugitives from the White House. Why does anyone give a shit who I'm dating? But with the added attention, Sophia's been on edge—trying to control a situation she has no real power over. Joel set up a schedule for when Jax gets brought in and arranged additional security under my request—something Sophia hates, but still uses. Eventually, things will die down. News always goes stale. For now, we wait it out.
