Estranged

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‎Nicholas' POV 

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‎I tightened my grip around the camera case as I stood off-set, watching the chaos of preparation unfold. 

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‎The sting of Madison snubbing me just a moment ago still lingered, the short stares and glances from the people around reminding me of the humiliation. 

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‎I wasn’t supposed to be here like this.

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‎I could buy half the damn building if I wanted to. And yet, here I am, suffering all of this embarrassment just to see her again.

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‎I had been looking for Madison for the past five years. So no, seeing Madison again wasn’t just a coincidence. It was the result of my obsession towards what belongs to me that she'd decided to take away from me.

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‎The moment I heard her name a year and a half ago, whispered in passing, attached to some rising model in New York, I knew it had to be her. No one else carried that name like that.

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‎And fortunately enough, I managed to confirm it really was her from the fashion magazines and contests she'd been featured in. 

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‎I didn’t hesitate. I instantly made the move to find her. But all efforts proved futile to get in touch with her. She'd become so exclusive that only few people could reach her.

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‎So I built connections. Bought my way into the industry. I had to.

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‎An alpha CEO stepping down into the world of photography just to stand in the same room as her again. Pathetic? Maybe. But I didn’t care. She has something that belongs to me. And I would go any length to take back what is rightfully mine.

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‎“Mr. Grayson.”

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‎A voice pulled me aside. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

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‎Holly, the director.

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‎She approached with careful steps, her expression already tight with concern.

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‎“Didn't you say you knew Miss Hayes,” she said quietly, glancing toward the dressing room. "That you had some sort of shared history?"

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‎I let out a slow breath. “Yes. And it's true,” I replied.

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‎Her brows tightened. “Then why did she react like that?”

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‎I paused.

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‎That was the question, wasn’t it?

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‎I looked past her. Toward the corridor Madison had disappeared into.

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‎Five years.

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‎I'd searched for her for five years. And she still had the nerve to treat me like I was a stranger. Like I hadn’t played a part in what transpired in that motel room.

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‎“I don’t know,” I said finally.

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‎Holly studied me carefully for a long while, before finally saying. “Remember. To these people, you’re here for the shoot,” she said, but it wasn’t a question. It was a warning.

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‎“My daughter.” I said, tightening my jaw slightly as I told her. “She is the reason I’m here.” 

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‎Nothing else mattered. Not Madison. Not whatever she had become. Not the past she was clearly trying to bury. "Only. my. Child."

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‎Holly exhaled slowly. “In any case, you need to be careful,” she said. “If rumors start to spread around that the photographer and the super model have personal history, especially with your… level of influence, it won’t stay contained. It could damage the brand's campaign and your child’s privacy. I'm only doing this for Celeste, I don't want to be caught in the crossfire of all of this while I'm only trying to help.”

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‎I didn’t respond immediately. Because I already knew that.

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‎I had built empires. I understood consequences. But I also had something else deeply unsettled inside me. 

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‎I had been robbed of five years. Five years that I could have had with my daughter. Five years I would never get back.

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‎And Madison had been the one holding that away from me. I wanted to confront her, I wanted her to take responsibility for what she'd done. But Holly made me realize, I should wait till I had the chance. I shouldn't do so in front of everyone here.

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‎I heaved a deep sigh, realizing I shouldn't trouble the people who've helped me. “I’m not here to cause rumors,” I said, turning slightly to face her. I looked deep into her eyes, “And I assure you, I won't, in any way, put you in trouble.”

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‎Holly said nothing after that.

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‎She simply nodded once, tight-lipped, before turning away. “I have to get her styled for the shoot. Wait here till it's time.”

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‎And just like that, I was alone again.

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‎The studio felt different once again, with the side-eye stares and glances. 

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‎I leaned back slightly against the equipment table, exhaling slowly. For now, I should focus on remaining professional. Just take the photos, as if this were just a random shoot between an estranged photographer and a model.

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‎But my mind refused to cooperate.

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‎Madison.

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‎I hated what she did to my thoughts. Even now, after everything. Seeing her face again, it stirred something deep within me. No matter how much I told myself otherwise, I remembered her too clearly.

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‎Not just the night we met. But the way she looked when she moved.

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‎The way she owned the space without trying. The way her presence made everything else feel irrelevant.

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‎I hated that she made me feel that way about her.

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‎I hated that my body reacted before my mind could intervene. I hated that I noticed things I shouldn’t about her.

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‎The memory of her laughter, her voice, her moans, her soft touch... I remember everything.

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‎I exhaled sharply.

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‎'No. That's gone.' I told myself. 

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‎I had only come this far just to find her and claim what's mine. 

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‎Nothing else matters.

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‎Shortly after, the door across the studio set in the corridor leading to the dress room opened. The same dress room she had entered earlier.

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‎I looked up instinctively. 

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‎And Just then, everything stopped.

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‎Madison stepped out. Elegant and outstanding, every head turning to look at her.

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‎For a moment, I forgot where I was. I forgot what I was supposed to feel.

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‎I forgot everything. Except her presence.

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‎She was dressed for the shoot now, in a burgundy, laced lingerie of delicate, minimal fabric style that's designed to reveal without exposing too much. 

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‎Designed to do more than suggest.

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‎And it did do more than suggest as it clung to her banging body as if teasing an irresistible desire.

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‎I was instantly reminded of that night that I'd first seen her under the stage lights at the strip club. She'd owned every gaze in the room back then too.

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‎I had told myself I was just watching. That I was just indulging like everyone else.

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‎But I hadn’t been truthful to myself. She'd been a danger to my heart, and that of many other men.

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‎And when she came down from the stage and started dancing on me, my body reacted before I could even think.

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‎The same way it was reacting now.

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‎I tightened fingers into a fist beside me. I need to keep myself in control. I hated that I struggled to. I hated that I couldn't look away without forcing myself to. But I knew I had to. I couldn't fall victim to her allures again.

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‎Madison’s eyes swept the room once, cold and detached. Without giving a care about anyone, she stepped forward, graciously, towards the set with Holly's direction.

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‎As she approached, she didn't look my way. Not even once. 

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‎It was like I wasn’t even worth acknowledging. Like I meant nothing to her.

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‎“Mr. Grayson.” Holly’s voice cut in sharply. “Ready to begin?" 

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‎I forced myself to move. Forced my body into professional rhythm. "Yes, sure."

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‎I lifted the camera and set it to face the set. 

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‎Madison stepped onto set. Her movement slow, and measured. Her snatched waist swerving in a sensual rhythm as she moved. 

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‎I swallowed, not knowing why I did. “Position one,” I called out, willing myself to focus on the camera.

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‎Madison laid on the lofty, feather filled set, posing effortlessly beneath the lights and adjusting her stance with practiced ease.

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‎Looking at her through the camera felt so wrong. She wore barely anything, just the lace lingerie that clinged to her body like a second skin.

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‎It wasn’t just what she wore. It was how she wore it like she owned it.

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‎Like she understood exactly what every inch of her body did to the people watching.

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‎My grip tightened around the camera.

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‎Five years, and somehow… she had only gotten worse. I could imagine exactly how many men would have fallen for her dangerous allure now.

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‎“Chin up a little?” I instructed, my voice surprisingly lower than usual.

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‎She didn't hesitate. She raised her chin, slow and deliberate.

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‎Her neck stretched slightly with the movement, exposing smooth skin that caught the light just right. Her lips parted. Not fully, and not enough to be obvious. But just enough to be intentional and arousing.

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‎And then she looked at me. Directly.

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‎The world narrowed as my eyes met hers. My chest tightened, a nervous pull tugged at my heart. 

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‎For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

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‎I held her gaze. There was nothing in her eyes. No recognition, no softness. Just a distant, cold, calculated glare that screamed, "Do your job."

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‎Something twisted in my chest. Sharp.

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‎I broke eye contact first, my focus returning to the camera. 

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‎I clicked the shutter. Once, twice, and again. Making sure each frame captured her perfectly.

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‎“Turn slightly,” I instructed again when I was done taking shots of her in that pose. 

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‎She did, and her movement...

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‎God!

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‎The subtle shift of her hips. The slow drag of the lingerie fabric across her skin.

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‎The way she brushed her fingers lightly against her thigh...

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‎I clenched my jaw hard.

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‎This was exactly why women like her were dangerous. They didn’t need to try.

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‎They just… were.

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‎And men? Men lost control.

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‎I wasn’t going to be one of those men. Not again.

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‎Five years ago, I had made that mistake. I had lapsed under the influence. It had been a moment of weakness I deeply regret.

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‎And to think a child had been made from that night's mistake.

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‎“Next pose,” I clenched my jaws as I said.

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‎I watched Madison move, sensual and alluring. Every angle, every tilt of her head. Every subtle movement of her body.

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‎I hated how I noticed everything.

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‎I wasn’t supposed to!

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‎Not like this. Not with her. Not with someone who is a--

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‎I stopped the thought.

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‎“Hold that,” I instructed when she made another perfect pose.

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‎Click. Click.

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‎She made things so easy as she knew just the right angle to hit for each shot.

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‎“Hold that angle,” I suddenly heard. 

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‎Holly had moved next to me, looking at Madison through the camera with her tablet in hand.

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‎My throat tightened. I felt as though I was a thief caught in the act. Why? I had no idea. But I managed to regain focus.

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‎ “Yes. perfect. Now slightly turn your shoulder toward the light.”

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‎Madison adjusted instantly, her movement so effortless. She didn’t need guidance at all.

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‎Click. Click.

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‎The camera shutter echoed through the studio as I took shots of her. 

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‎“Ease your expression a little,” Holly added. “We’re going for elegance, not tension.”

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‎Madison didn’t respond verbally. Instead, she shifted again. I caught how her brows relaxed, and the corners of her lips curled up, making her face warmer and pleasantly approachable. She had done so with such calculated precision that had  everyone around in awe. 

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‎She was just that good.

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‎She parted her lips slightly and placed a finger in between, expressing a naughty, inviting pose.

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‎And that was when it happened. 

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‎As if realizing her intent, as if adding a final touch to her already mind-blowing pose. A strap of her lingerie slipped slightly off her shoulder.

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‎Just enough to reveal the delicate line of her shoulder in a way that pulled attention without permission.

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‎My finger paused on the shutter. Just for a second. And my eyes, they couldn't not wander.

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‎Madison didn’t fix it immediately. She didn’t even react. 

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‎It was as if she didn’t care.

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‎My throat tightened. I couldn't help but swallow again, this time I frowned, specifically at myself.

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‎I forced my focus back to the lens. I have to keep things professional. I kept telling myself as I took shots of her.

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‎But my eyes betrayed me, yet again.

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‎Not until Holly stepped slightly forward. “Madison, adjust the strap slightly,” she said casually. “We want clean symmetry for this set.”

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‎Madison finally moved, slowly adjusting the strap. Her fingers brushed the strap lightly in a composed manner, pulling it back into place.

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‎We continued shooting.

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‎Different poses. Different angles. Different expressions.

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‎But it was always the same result.

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‎ There were less pictures of her that wasn't as perfect.

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‎“Okay. Now let’s try something more relaxed,” Holly said. “Can you lean slightly back. Let the fabric fall naturally.”

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‎Madison obeyed again. Her body shifted against the set backdrop. The studio light caught her skin in ways that made her gleam like a star.

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‎Click. Click.

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‎“Good,” Holly said shortly after. “That’s enough for this set."

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‎'Finally.' I couldn't help but heave a sigh.

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‎Madison straightened immediately. Like she had been waiting for that exact sentence.

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‎“Thank you,” she said briefly. Then she stepped down from the set. Still not glancing in my direction.

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‎I lowered the camera slowly, watching her leave with that hip sway I couldn't get my eyes off of.

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‎Holly approached me after a moment. “She’s… professional,” she said carefully.

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‎I didn’t respond. Because that wasn’t the word I would’ve used. But I couldn't have agreed more with her.

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‎I watched Madison disappear into the dressing room, my eyes following her all the way.

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‎“Mr. Grayson?” Holly called again.

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‎“Yes?" I finally looked at her.

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‎She had her hand out, requesting for the camera. I immediately obliged, handing it to her.

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‎ “Hmm... You did well today. The photos will perform strongly.” she said as she checked through the photo shots taken.

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‎I nodded once, not even worried about what she said. I had taken photography lessons after all.

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‎Instead, my attention was already elsewhere. I looked once again toward the corridor that held the door to the dressing room Madison had disappeared into.

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‎This seems like the right chance to confront her.

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