Riley’s POVJax stepped out, steam curling around him like some vengeful Greek god on a casual stroll. He was now completely shirtless, a towel wrapped around his waist at a disturbingly low level. Droplets clung to his chest like they didn’t want to leave, sliding over the sharp ridges of his abs and lower, disappearing into those sharp v lines just above his—Nope. Nope, no thank you. I shook my head. My eyes snapped back up like I'd just been caught stealing government secrets.Jesus.Nope. We are not looking there. We are not thinking about there. We are thinking about dry clothes. About my job. About air. About numbers.“You didn’t have to come here, you know.” He muttered as he started drying off his hair with another towel.His voice was lower than usual. Less cocky, more… quiet. Like it wasn’t a challenge. Just him speaking sincerely. My gaze flicked back to him and he was standing still, his arms crossed now, towel hitched precariously on those dangerous hips.I should’ve tu
Riley’s POVDragging a six-foot-something semi-conscious Jax Maddox to his damn bathroom was not how I thought my morning would go.He was dead weight. A stubborn, heavy slab of grumbling muscles, and I was sweating by the time I got him propped against the sink. His head lolled to the side, eyes half-lidded."Jax," I said again, a little sharper this time. “You smell like a liquor store dumpster.”But nothing coherent came out of his mouth.So I did what any sane person would do. I turned the shower knob to the cold direction. Ice. Cold.The second the spray hit him, Jax jolted upright like someone had dumped him in a bucket of hell. Water drenched his shirt instantly, plastering the fabric to his chest and revealing every sharp, sculpted line beneath. He looked like a Greek god in the rain.“What the—” He clutched his head with a groan, blinking through the downpour. “Why’d you do that?!”I crossed my arms and shrugged. “I thought you needed cleaning. And well, I couldn’t exactly ba
Riley’s POVI didn’t know what I was expecting when Caleb texted me at 6:42 a.m., but it wasn’t this.CALEB: Can you check on Jax? No one's heard from him since the past two days. He’s not picking up. I’d go, but… he might actually kill me. please check on him, he tolerates you.Tolerates. Right. I rolled my eyes, stared at the message for several seconds, debating between pretending I didn’t see it or actually going. But something about the words no one's heard from him crawled under my skin.Thirty minutes later, I was in front of Jax Maddox’s penthouse, awkwardly balancing my bag and knocking like the world’s most hesitant UPS delivery driver.No response.I knocked again—louder this time. Still nothing.I glanced around the empty hallway, cursed under my breath, and pulled out the emergency keycard Caleb had once smugly handed me "just in case Jax locks himself out again mid-rage spiral."The second the door opened; a strong smell hit me. Alcohol, sweat and something burnt.“Oh my
Jax’s POVThe conference room was too damn loud. Phones buzzed every passing second, my PR agents voices overlapped, and the screen in front of us blasted the headline across every news outlet like a slap to the face:“You know I never wanted a kid.” – Jax Maddox EXCLUSIVE.And there she was. Camilla. Sitting on that sleek white couch, legs crossed like she owned the world, crocodile tears smudging her mascara as she leaned toward the host with a soft, tragic smile.“I just want to share my truth,” she started, her voice quivering. “He told me to my face…that he didn’t want a child. He begged me to end it and remove the baby.”“Cut the volume,” I growled, unable to stand one more of her lie.No one moved fast enough and it kept playing out, her voice irking and grating my eardrums.“I kept quiet for so long because I didn’t want to ruin his career,” she continued, blinking dramatically. “But then he demanded a paternity test—said he had to be sure the baby was his. Like I was some lia
Camilla’s POV“He’s squirming. Soon the guilt will come with a bank transfer.” I muttered to myself. The new article had already gone viral by the time my second mimosa arrived.I sat cross-legged on the velvet couch of my hotel suite, swiping through headlines like they were confetti at my own personal parade.“Jax Maddox: Tennis Star or Would-Be Deadbeat?”“Pregnant Ex-Girlfriend Tells All — ‘He Never Wanted a Baby.’”“Maddox Under Fire After Leaked Recording Surfaces.”I giggled behind my glass. The voice clip was vague enough to be useful, but damning enough to stir chaos. God bless selective editing and high-quality mics hidden in wrap dresses.I lifted my phone and hit dial.“Babe.” My voice purred into the receiver. “Are you watching the internet burn for us?”On the other end, her voice was flat. “I saw it.”I rolled my eyes. “No excitement? We just made the biggest athlete in the country look like a narcissistic coward. Sponsors are already pulling out. And wait till I tell
Riley’s POVI didn’t owe him anything.That was the line I kept repeating to myself all morning as I packed folders, answered emails, and avoided eye contact with every person who stared at me like I’d walked out of a soap opera.I didn’t owe Jax Maddox a damn thing.Not for the protein bar. Not for the job. And certainly not for the way he barked orders at me one day and then left a protein bar on my desk the next like some emotionally unavailable fairy godmother.Still, when I opened my browser and saw another headline blaring across my screen, something in me twisted.“JAX MADDOX: PRESSURE, PATERNITY, AND PR BLINDNESS.”Below it, the byline: Valerie Quinn for The Daily Pulse. Of course it was her. Val was ruthless. Always had been.I skimmed the article, scanning for anything redeemable. It was brutal. Quote after quote pulled from Camilla’s little performance. The supposed leaked audio. That infamous line: “You know I never wanted a kid.”That wasn’t the man I saw in the quiet hou