Colin Denver

Two Months Later

Madeline sat in her apartment, scrolling through her phone with tired eyes. The weeks after Colin’s insane “fake engagement” proposal had been a blur. She had thrown herself into work, into long nights with Chanel, into anything that would distract her from Max… and from Colin’s words that wouldn’t leave her head.

Then she saw it.

A post. Melissa. Smiling. Glowing. Her hand resting on her belly.

The caption read: “Blessed with our little miracle. Can’t wait to meet you.”

Her blood boiled in valid anger. Her vision nearly blacked out.

“No… no, no, no…” She muttered. ‘Wait… why should I care… just like Channie said. Don't give a fuck… don't give a fuck.’

As much as her mind tried to encourage her. She couldn't shake the feeling. Melissa. Pregnant. With Max’s child.

The child she had lost.

– – –

Some time had passed by since the news broke to her, and suddenly, the doorbell rang.

“Open up, Maddie! I brought wine!” Chanel’s voice chirped from outside.

Madeline dragged herself to the door and opened it. Chanel stepped in, her energy a stark contrast to Madeline’s hollow expression.

“Oh my God, what happened to you?” Chanel frowned, putting the wine down.

Madeline shoved the phone at her. “Look.”

Chanel’s eyes scanned the screen. Her jaw dropped. “Are you freaking kidding me? That— that witch is pregnant?!”

Madeline’s lips quivered. “She’s having his baby, Chanel… The baby I lost. Just a few months ago I was in that hospital bed and now she’s… she’s…”

Her words broke into uncharted cracks.

Chanel wrapped her arms around her tightly. “Hey, no, don’t do this to yourself. Don’t you dare. She is nothing. He is nothing. They are nothing.”

Madeline shook her head. “It feels like I was never enough. Like I was disposable.”

“Don’t say that,” Chanel snapped. “You are everything. And you don’t deserve to sit here crying while they play house like villains in a cheap drama.”

Chanel eyes squinted. “Something ain't right. What's really on your mind… have you… don't tell me…” 

Madeline's desperate eyes said it all.

Chanel smirked knowingly. “Oh, don’t even tell me. I know these eyes when I see them. It's Colin Denver, isn't it? The devil himself.”

Madeline got irritated. “What the hell are you saying? He’s crazy. Completely insane.”

“Yeah, but he did make you laugh last week when you told me about his little fiancée offer.”

“I wasn’t laughing,” Madeline muttered.

Chanel raised a brow. “Please. You replayed that scene like ten times. Admit it, he got under your skin.”

Madeline turned away, scoffing. “I don’t want to admit anything. He’s younger, arrogant, manipulative. And yet—”

“And yet,” Chanel leaned against the counter, crossing her arms, “he’s the only one who made Max look like a fool.”

Silence.

Madeline pressed her fingers against her temple. Her head was spinning. Colin’s words echoed in her mind. Imagine his face when he sees you between my arms. Imagine how hot his blood is going to boil.

Her phone buzzed again.

Another notification. Another photo of Melissa and Max. This time Max was kissing her belly.

Madeline had seen enough. Her muscle instincts kicked in before her brain cells could process anything. She found herself dialing the number of the man she thought she despised… a number she had never thought she would call. But desperate times calls for desperate actions, and if there was someone who could stick it up to Max, it was him.

It rang once. Twice.

Then his voice, still as beautiful as ever, spoke. 

“I was wondering when you’d call.”

Her eyes rolled. She could see the smug look on his face just by those words alone. 

Madeline’s throat went dry. “Colin…” She cleared her throat.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Could it be… you've changed your mind?”

“I wish I could slap the smirk out of your pretty little face right now.” 

“I'd kill to have your hand on me.”

“You're a sick man. Has anyone told you that?” Madeline took a deep breath, her voice breaking but steady enough. “I’ll do it. I’ll take your offer.”

Chanel gasped. “Mads!”

Colin chuckled softly on the other end. “Good girl.”

She ends the phone call.

Madeline slammed the phone down, shaking. “What have I done?”

Chanel grabbed her shoulders. “What did you just do?!”

“I just…” Madeline’s lips trembled. “I just agreed to a fake engagement with Colin Denver.”

Chanel blinked. Then she burst out laughing. “Holy sh— Okay, okay, I shouldn’t laugh, but oh my God, this is insane. Do you realise what you’ve just signed up for?”

Madeline covered her face. “I don’t even know. I just… I saw Max with her, with that baby, and I couldn’t take it anymore.”

Chanel softened, pulling her into a hug again. “Then maybe this is exactly what you need. If nothing else, it’s going to be one hell of a show.”

---

Later That Night

Madeline sat by the window of her bedroom, thinking… pondering… replaying the phone call in her head again and again.

Was she insane? Probably.

But Colin was right. Max didn’t deserve to win.

Her phone buzzed. A new message.

From Colin.

Hello, love. We meet at 8pm. Look as ravishing as ever. Make my jaw drop, more importantly… wear something that'd make HIS drop. I'll be waiting… this announcement is going to shake the social media. 

Her heart skipped.

An announcement? Already?

She typed back furiously: Perv. You said fake. Don’t push this too far.

His reply came back almost instantly.

Oh, it’s fake, love. But it’ll feel real enough when he sees you on my arm.

Madeline threw the phone into the bed and buried her face in her pillow, groaning.

“What have I gotten myself into…”

Meanwhile…

Max sat in his study, phone in his right hand, and a glass of wine on his left. His eyes were red with fury.

He had just gotten the call.

The news that Madeline was engaged.

To him.

To Colin Denver.

He gripped the glass so hard it shattered out of his pure rage. His blood dripped slowly, but he didn’t seem to care. 

“Madeline…” he growled in anger, his voice heavy with rage.

“This isn’t over, Denver. Not by a long shot.”