Maddox couldn't escape her.
Even as the days stretched on, and the wedding became more of a public spectacle than either of them had anticipated, Cambria's presence loomed over him like a shadow. She had a way of settling into spaces, taking them over, and transforming everything around her into something unrecognizable something that fit her carefully crafted design.
Her eyes followed him wherever he went. At every meeting, at every gala, every event that was now part of their forced union, he felt her gaze. It wasn't one of affection or even interest. It was a reminder. A cold, unyielding reminder of his past mistakes. And yet, in the back of his mind, there was a part of him that still couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the sharpness, there was a glimmer of something else something familiar. Something he had once loved.
But those days were gone. Or so he told himself.
It had been a week since the wedding, and Maddox had done his best to play the part. He had become an expert in pretending. To the media, the board, and even his family, he was the perfect husband: stoic, reserved, and focused on the future of Raye Media and his carefully built empire. But behind closed doors, the charade was harder to maintain. In private, when Cambria wasn't playing the role of the perfect, detached wife, she became something else entirely something that made his chest ache with the intensity of their past.
But she didn't show it. Not anymore.
At least, not to him.
The nights were the worst. They slept in separate rooms, but the tension between them was palpable. Even when he lay in the darkness, staring at the ceiling, he could feel her presence as a ghost in the house. When she was near, it was like the air thickened, weighed down by memories both good and bad.
But tonight, as he sat in his office after yet another long day of meetings, something felt different. He had received a call that had rattled him with an anonymous tip that one of his competitors, Victor Harrington, was making moves to undermine Raye Media. But the information wasn't enough. Whoever was behind it was deliberately withholding critical details, which only increased his paranoia.
Maddox rubbed his temples, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders. The walls around him felt too close, the office too suffocating, as if it had grown too small for everything he was trying to manage. He needed air.
He stood abruptly, grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, and made his way toward the penthouse terrace. The cold night air bit at his skin as he stepped outside, taking a deep breath.
And there she was. Cambria. Standing at the railing, her back to him, gazing out over the city. The soft, golden light from the penthouse cast a halo around her, making her look like something out of a dream or a nightmare, depending on which version of her he was seeing.
Her posture was straight, her figure poised, and yet Maddox couldn't help but notice the way her shoulders seemed to hold the weight of something far heavier than the evening chill. He'd seen her this way before in her own thoughts, eyes distant, as if the world she'd built around herself was both her sanctuary and her prison.
He took a step toward her, his footsteps muffled by the thick rug beneath his feet. The sound of the wind between the buildings was the only noise that filled the space.
"Cambria."
She didn't turn at first. Instead, she took a long, slow breath, almost as if she had been expecting him.
"I didn't think you'd be out here tonight," she said, her voice steady, but there was a hint of something beneath it a trace of weariness. "It's a rare sight, you know. You standing still for more than a minute."
Maddox's eyes narrowed. "I've always been still when it counted."
She finally turned to face him, the soft glow of the lights reflecting in her eyes. Her gaze was unreadable. She had mastered the art of maintaining that impenetrable wall around her, but there was something in her expression now thing raw that he hadn't seen before.
"I think you've forgotten something," she said quietly. "It's not just your empire I'm here to take. It's your pride. Your control. You've always thought you had everything under wraps, Maddox. But look at you now. You're losing it."
His jaw tightened. "I haven't lost anything."
Cambria raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Really? Because I see a man who's crumbling. A man who's hanging onto what little power he has left with both hands. The cracks are showing, Maddox. And when they finally break, I want to be there to watch."
Her words hit him harder than he expected. He felt something inside him stir, something he hadn't felt in years. Anger, guilt, frustration. It was all tangled up inside him, and he couldn't escape it.
He stepped closer to her, the cold air biting at his skin, but it did nothing to freeze the burning in his chest. "What do you want from me, Cambria?"
Her gaze softened, but only for a moment. "Nothing that I haven't already taken."
The quiet that followed was suffocating, hanging between them like an unspoken truth. Maddox opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to challenge her. To demand answers. To tell her that he didn't need her games anymore. But the truth was, he didn't know what he wanted from her.
And that terrified him.
The following days passed in a blur of meetings, phone calls, and endless paperwork. But no matter how hard he worked to keep his mind occupied, the lingering presence of Cambria never left him. He found himself distracted, his thoughts constantly returning to the woman who was now his wife, the woman who had once been his everything. The woman who had every reason to destroy him and yet, wasn't.
She was still playing a game, and Maddox was no longer sure if he was winning or losing.
He returned to his office late one evening, exhaustion hanging heavy over him, when he saw her again. She was standing by the windows, looking out at the city. This time, she didn't turn around when he entered. Instead, she simply stood there, as though she was waiting for something or someone.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.
She didn't answer right away, and Maddox wondered if she'd even heard him. But when she did speak, her voice was quiet almost vulnerable. "I'm thinking about all the things I lost, Maddox. About all the pieces of myself that I had to bury to survive."
Her words hit him like a sucker punch. Maddox opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
"You never even knew," she continued, her voice breaking slightly. "You never cared to know. You left me to pick up the pieces on my own. And now, look at us. You need me more than you'll ever admit. And I'm still here. For now."
Maddox stepped forward, a surge of emotion flooding his chest. He reached out, his hand brushing the side of her face, his thumb gently tracing the line of her jaw. The touch was tentative, fragile an unspoken apology, a plea for forgiveness. But as his fingers lingered there, Cambria's gaze shifted, a flicker of something in her eyes something he hadn't seen before.
"Cambria… I "
Before he could finish his sentence, the sound of a sharp knock interrupted them. The door to his office opened, and his assistant, Lily, stepped inside with a stack of papers in hand. Her eyes darted between them, clearly sensing the tension in the room.
"Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Raye," Lily said, her voice hesitant. "But there's something you need to see. It's urgent."
Maddox's heart sank. The moment between him and Cambria was broken, and the cold reality of his situation crashed back into him.
"Give me a minute," he muttered, his voice tight. Lily nodded and quickly left, closing the door behind her.
Maddox turned back to Cambria, but she was already walking away, her heels clicking against the polished floor. "I'll be in my room," she said without turning around, her voice devoid of emotion. "Don't take too long."
He stood there, staring after her, his heart heavy with the weight of unspoken words.