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 53 Risk and Reward Maddox
I watched Asher—the bartender I'd unofficially claimed as mine—closely. "And how do you measure how much liquor you're pouring?" I asked, elbows resting on the bar. "You just... wing it?"
He kept his eyes on the bottle, pouring something pink and dangerously sweet into a shaker. "Nah," he said. "It's all about the seconds. You count it out. A steady four-second pour—that's a perfect shot."
Interesting. "Can I try making my own next time?"
He flicked his gaze up, half-smirk in place. "It's your yacht."
Fair point.
He slid the drink across the counter to me, condensation already forming on the glass. This was number four. I wasn't even pretending to feel guilty about it. These things were addictive. Barely any alcohol bite—just pineapple, a hint of cherry, and pure danger.
When I wandered over this morning, whining like a child about being bored of the usual cocktails, Asher took it personally. Said he'd surprise me. He delivered. "Pineapple Upside Down," he'd called it. My new favorite.
While he worked on Sophia's drink, I fired off a few more questions about bartending—part curiosity, part boredom, part needing to kill time before I spiraled into my own thoughts again.
Sophia's drink landed in front of me next. I picked it up, winked at him. "I'll be back for another soon."
"I'm gonna start watering them down."
I chuckled. "Doubt I'll notice. Or care. I'm here for the sugar rush, not the buzz."
He wiped the counter, grinning. "Funny, on day one you said you only drink the hard shit."
"I lied," I said, raising the glass. "I'm a girly drink kind of guy."
As I climbed the stairs to the top deck, I sipped the cocktail. Asher had even stuck a tiny umbrella in it.
Yeah, he's definitely my favorite now.
Maybe I'll hire him. Keep him around for custom drinks, maybe even cut the booze altogether. I know Sophia already has him wrapped around her finger—dude's been making her green smoothies every morning, and from the way she moans into every sip, they must be heavenly.
I'd be jealous... if she didn't make the same sounds when she's on her knees with my dick in her mouth.
Five days at sea—just Sophia, me, the ocean, and no interruptions—and I'm drowning in emotions I never thought I'd feel again. They're swallowing up the broken parts of me, dragging them into the sun.
And then there was the wedding.
Seeing her in that dress... my God.
That white fabric clinging to her in all the right places. The green and white florals lining the aisle. The way she smiled—beamed—as she walked toward me. It felt like an earthquake in my chest.
