Chapter 25

Max’s POV

I made it to the news station the next day. It was an even bigger platform, thanks to Ben. The whole world was watching. The host, a sleek, well-groomed man in his forties, shook my hand with the kind of practiced enthusiasm that came from years of dealing with powerful men.

“Maxwell Hollandale,” he greeted. “Welcome.”

I gave him a polite nod and took my seat, the cameras already rolling.

“Let’s get straight to it,” the host said, turning toward the camera. “The internet has been ablaze with controversy surrounding your fiancée, Sienna Brooks. The leaked photos, the supposed scandal—can you tell us where you stand on all of this?”

I leaned back slightly, exuding the calm, collected persona I had perfected over the years. “It’s simple,” I said. “Sienna is my fiancée. I love her. And the attacks she’s facing are nothing more than ghosts from our pasts trying to haunt us.”

The host raised an eyebrow. “Ghosts?”

I nodded. “People from my past, people from hers—when you’re in the spotlight, there will always be those who want to tear you down. But we’re not giving them that satisfaction.”

There was a pause before the host leaned in, his expression intrigued. “So, you’re saying these photos were fabricated?”

“Of course,” I said smoothly. “Anyone with half a brain can see that. Sienna has been targeted by people who have a personal vendetta against her, and unfortunately, this is just one of the many ways people in power try to break strong women down.”

The host gave a knowing nod. “And yet, there are many questioning if your upcoming wedding is still genuine amidst all this drama.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “People love to talk. It’s entertaining for them. But what they don’t realize is that Sienna and I—” I paused, letting my lips curl into a smirk, “—we thrive under pressure.”

The host smiled, sensing the charm I was effortlessly weaving into my words. “So, you’re saying love will overcome all?”

I met his gaze directly. “Absolutely.”

After the interview, Ben was waiting for me backstage, his arms crossed and a huge grin on his face.

“Damn,” he whistled. “You should’ve gone into politics.”

I rolled my eyes. “Just tell me how bad the fallout is.”

“Oh, it’s fantastic,” Ben said, pulling out his phone. “Your popularity shot up overnight, and, surprisingly, Sienna’s has too. People are split—half the internet thinks you’re a knight in shining armour, the other half still thinks this is a massive PR stunt. Either way, you two are trending everywhere.”

“Great,” I muttered. “Just what I wanted.”

Ben smirked. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying this.”

I shot him a dry look. “You think I enjoy spending my morning convincing the world that my wife-to-be isn’t some scandal-ridden seductress?”

Ben clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Hey, if it pays, it stays. Keep bringing up scandals, Max—I’m making a fortune off this buzz.”

I scoffed, shaking my head. “Glad to know someone’s profiting.”

After leaving the station, I headed straight to the airport. My flight was scheduled for the evening, and with the wedding set for tomorrow, the last thing I needed was more delays. I settled into one of the lounge chairs, scrolling through emails while waiting to board. My phone buzzed.

Harry.

I answered immediately. “Harry?”

“Sir,” he said, his voice sharp. “Something’s wrong.”

Before I could ask what, my phone was snatched from my hand.

“What the—” I spun around, catching sight of a man bolting through the crowded terminal, my phone in his grip.

I was on my feet in an instant, adrenaline kicking in as I chased after him.

“Hey! STOP!”

The guy weaved through the crowd like a damn rat, shoving past passengers and hurdling over suitcases. I dodged a clueless old man and nearly crashed into a flight attendant holding a tray of drinks.

He made the mistake of glancing back at me.

Bad move.

I lunged, catching his wrist. He yanked free, but the phone slipped from his grip and hit the floor with a sickening crack.

“Son of a—” Before I could grab him, he bolted toward an emergency exit and disappeared.

I cursed under my breath, scooping up the shattered remains of my phone. The screen was destroyed, completely useless.

Great. Just great.

Frustrated but still focused on getting home, I returned to check in, only for my day to get worse.

“Sir, we seem to have misplaced your passport.”

I stared blankly at the flight attendant. “Excuse me?”

The woman fidgeted, flipping through a stack of documents. “It was here a moment ago, but now...”

I exhaled through my nose, my patience wearing dangerously thin. “You lost my passport?”

“Not lost, sir. Just... temporarily misplaced.”

“Temporarily misplaced,” I repeated. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

Another attendant, a nervous-looking man, rushed over. “Sir, we’re checking our systems now. If you could just wait—”

“I don’t have time to wait,” I snapped. “I have a wedding to get to.”

The first attendant forced a smile. “We understand, sir. We just need a few hours—”

“A few hours?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was ridiculous.

Screw it.

I pulled out my wallet. “Cancel my flight.”

“Sir?”

“I’m not waiting around while you guys play hide and seek with my documents. Book me a luxury travel bus. Now.”

The attendants exchanged confused glances. “You want... a bus?”

“Yes,” I said sharply. “A luxurious one.”

“But sir, that will take significantly longer than a flight.”

I leaned in, lowering my voice. “You see, the thing about buses is that they don’t lose my damn passport.”

The nervous attendant swallowed. “Understood, sir. We’ll make the arrangements.”

An hour later, I was sitting in the best seat on a luxury coach, heading toward home. I had no phone, no patience, and no idea what the hell Harry had been trying to tell me before the call cut off.

But I knew one thing.

Something was very wrong.