The Devil Himself

Maddox Pov

I preferred my office this way.

The walls were charcoal, the furniture black or deep brown, and the curtains kept the afternoon sun from flooding the room. I had no interest in bright colors, decorative nonsense, or anything that demanded attention when it didn't need to.

My desk was dark walnut, wide enough to hold everything I needed without making the room feel crowded. My laptop sat in the center. My phone was beside it. Nothing else was necessary.

I sank into my black leather chair and glanced toward the two chairs opposite my desk. They were there for meetings, not comfort.

People came into my office to discuss business. They didn't come here to relax.

A bookshelf occupied one wall, filled with reports, financial records, and a few books I'd actually read. There were no photographs. No ornaments. Nothing sentimental.

I liked it that way.

Everything had a place, it was quiet. And, most importantly, nothing in the room irritated me.

I stood back up to go stand by the window, the cold seeping through my latest edition custom suit.

People called me a monster. They said Alpha Maddox had ice in his veins, that I tore apart rival companies and destroyed bloodlines without blinking.

They were right. But like every villain in a story, I wasn't born this way.

My jaw tightened as the old memory clawed its way to the surface. It had been years, but I could still taste the humiliation sitting in the back of my throat.

Haley had been my first love, the only woman I had every truly loved and wanted to spend the rest of my life until she dumped me.

I remembered kneeling in the dirt outside of the apartment I had used my savings at the time to buy for her, holding a small, pathetic silver ring that had cost me six months of grueling manual labor to afford.

She hadn’t even looked at the ring. She had looked past me, her eyes fixated on the sleek, imported luxury car idling by the curb.

"I’m sorry, Maddox," she had said, though her voice held no remorse. "But you're a nobody. You have no territory. No wealth. I need an Alpha who can actually give me a life, not one who scrapes by on pennies."

That was the first and only time I had ever begged a woman for anything. Yet she had stepped around me, getting into the passenger seat of a rich older Alpha’s car while I stayed on my knees in the dirt, watching her drive away.

That was the moment my heart officially stopped

beating and started calculating.

I took that rejection and made it my driving force. I spent the next decade clawing my way to the very top of the food chain. I ruined the Alpha she left me for, bought his company, liquidated his assets, and watched him crumble. Now, I possessed more wealth and power than the Pack Council itself.

I had everything. And yet I felt absolutely nothing.

Well... almost nothing.

I turned away from the window, walking over to my desk and pouring two fingers of neat whiskey into a crystal glass. I took a slow drink, letting the burn reach my cold heart as my thoughts shifted to the only anomaly in my miserable existence.

Five years ago.

It was the anniversary of the day she left me. I had gone to a dingy, off-the-grid bar at the boundary of town where I was sure no one knew me to drown the memories.

And it worked. By the end of the night, I was completely drunk. And sitting in the darkest booth at the back of the bar was a woman who looked just as broken as I felt.

We didn't speak. We didn't exchange names. I couldn't even see her face clearly in the dim light. All I knew was the overwhelming sense of grief radiating from her.

What started as a shared bottle of wine turned into an explosive, reckless encounter in a hotel room I couldn't even remember. . It was raw, pitch-black, and consuming to the point I wanted to be inside her the whole night.

For a few hours in the dark, the thick glaciers of ice around my wolf melted. For the first time in years, I felt alive.

But when I woke up, the bed was cold and she was gone.

She hadn't left a note. The only evidence that she was ever there was a missing item from my overnight bag on the bathroom counter.

She had taken my cologne.

A square glass bottle of a rare, limited-edition European scent. The manufacturer had gone bankrupt shortly after, meaning the fragrance was discontinued so I couldn't buy a replacement, no matter how many millions I threw at it.

Over the last five years, I had walked through crowded streets, high-end galas, and pack meetings, always unconsciously waiting to catch a whiff of that specific, intoxicating scent. I hired private investigators to track the hotel cameras, but the footage was corrupted. Bringing me to the conclusion that the woman was a ghost.

A knock on my office door pulled me out of the past.

"Enter," I commanded, my voice dropping back into its usual, freezing tone.

My assistant, Tony, stepped into the room, holding a thin folder. His brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin smile and I sensed the tension radiating from him.

"Sir," he began, stopping a respectful distance from my desk. "You asked me to find a legal loophole regarding the Pack Council’s mandate. Valeria’s family is pushing for the bonding ceremony next month. If you don't secure an

alternative mate immediately, the political fallout with the Elders will cost us the southern territory."

My grip tightened on the crystal glass. Valeria was a snobby, entitled nightmare. The thought of binding my wolf to her made my stomach turn. "Did you find a loophole or not, Tony?"

"I didn't have to, sir," he said, stepping forward and placing the folder on the dust free surface of my desk. "The front desk just called up. There is a

woman waiting in the lobby."

I frowned, staring down at the unmarked folder. "Who?"

"A civilian. No pack backing, no political ties, entirely vulnerable," he explained quickly. "She is currently being hunted by her ex-husband's lawyers for custody of her child. She is desperate for Alpha protection and thus is offering

to sign a completely submissive contract marriage. You get your legal shield against Valeria, and you hold all the power. She wants nothing but your name on a piece of paper."

I set my glass down. Who in their right mind would want to get close to me to the point of marriage? It was obvious she wasn't from around here or the rumours would have made it way to her ears.

Or was she here for my money? I had a few that didn't mind how I treated them as long as I made it rain. Valeria was one of those people and now I was bored. I needed something fresh to excite me.

It was the perfect, ruthless business transaction. A wife I could lock away in the shadows, someone who would never demand my heart or my

time.

I flipped the folder open. Clipped to the first page was a standard pack registry photo. The woman had exhausted, sad eyes, but there was a fierce, protective defiance in her jaw.

Zosha Kingston.

I stared at the name, my inner wolf stirring restlessly for reasons I couldn't explain. I closed the folder, my expression hardening into stone.

"Bring her up."