Maxine’s life was going well. She was an art student and an intern for a famous architect. In an unexpected way, she met Damien Ledger, someone she shouldn’t have crossed paths with. That chance encounter has unfolded the secrets that she had been hiding. She couldn’t understand why she met him again. She wanted to stop the growing temptation to know him. Damien feels he’s indebted to her. Can Max successfully hide the secrets that involve both of them? Will he let her go after knowing everything?
View MoreMaxine’s POV
“I don’t want to be here,”
“Oh, come on. This is going to be fun,” Kristen said as she dragged me into the nightclub. That was my first time entering into a place like that and the bass of the music gave me goose pimples all over my skin.
The place vibrates, and reeks of alcohol, and the people are dancing and drunk. Kristen looked more excited and started moving her body according to the music.
She is my roommate at the dormitory. We are both art majors, but we’re totally opposite to each other. She’s tall, lean, and outgoing, while I stand five feet two inches, black, petite, and an introvert. She’s everything that I’m not.
It was my childhood dream to pursue art as my career. I got into a prestigious institute and now my dream is coming true. Since I haven’t explored anything other than art, I’m in quest of new things with much hesitation.
“Hey, look at those guys. Shall we join them?” she asks.
“I don’t think so,”
“Okay, you stay here, I’m going,” she left me and went to talk to a bunch of guys. I don’t judge her but she’s wild. Without knowing anyone how can she party with them? Perhaps I’m too scared. I watched her talking to them and she went with one of those guys to dance.
The reason I’m here is to try new things, I’ve been in a shell for almost all my life and now I want to explore this world with my eccentric roommate. She asked me to accompany her and agreed hoping to have a new experience.
I went to the bar and ordered Vodka shots to the cute bartender. This is my first time going to drink. I want to know how the alcohol feels in my system.
With a strange excitement, I drank the vodka shots and felt something weird when the alcohol mingled in my system. I feel like the world is spinning around me. The lights were going out of focus and came back to focus again.
It gives me feelings, I never felt before. When I slowly forget my surroundings while sitting at the bar, the sounds go off and I become dazed. I just want to lie down.
“Are you okay?” a masculine voice startled me.
I looked at my right side to see a handsome male, wearing all black. What’s so peculiar about him is, he’s wearing sunglasses in the nightclub.
“I’m okay,” I said and got conscious of my surroundings.
But the man kept looking at me, I could feel it even though I was not entirely sure.
“You look drunk, how much did you drink?” he asks and the answer is on the bar counter.
“Just two vodka shots,” he chuckled and removed his glasses to reveal his magnetic blue eyes.
I cut off my admiration and had a frown on my face.
“That’s none of your business,” I said.
He smiles.
“Did you come here alone?” he asks. I look at him wondering why he’s so interested in me. I looked closer at his face to see the fresh scar above his left eye which looked like it was going to stay permanent and a bruise on his cheek.
“You got into trouble and got punched in the face?”
He smiles.
“What’s your name?” he again questioned instead of explaining what happened to his face.
“I told you, it’s none of your business,”
“Hey, Maxine,” Kristen shouted and waved at me when she saw me with a guy.
“Maxine, huh?” he said my name for the first time and I never knew that would be the start of ruining my life.
“Yes, it is,” I frowned.
“Is this your first time in here?” he asks.
“Yes,” I nodded.
I thought I was here to talk to strangers and he looked like an interesting character. Why not talk to him?
“Is that your friend?” he again asked her a question.
“Yes,”
“Why is she with those guys? Do you know them?”
“No, she just went to socialize,”
“Why are you here? Why don’t you go and join them?”
“I’m not like her. I’m a bit shy,” I confessed. I don’t know why I did that. His eyes were looking at her curiously.
“Then what you’re like?” he asks.
“I don’t think you should know those things,” I said.
He again smiled, sipping his drink. “Why not?”
“I don’t know you,”
“You want to know me?”
The way he asks that and the way he’s looking at me, I realize that he expects more than a small talk with her.
“Well, what’s your name?” I ask.
“I’m Thomas,” he answered.
“What happened to your face?”
“I got into a fight?”
“Fight? With who?”
“With my buddies,”
“Are you a gangster or something?”
“Yes, I am,” he said and I looked at him in surprise. I didn’t expect that.
“Now it’s my turn,” he stopped me.
“How old are you?”
“Twenty,”
“Why are you here?” he asks.
“The same reason why everyone is here,”
“To hook up with someone?”
“No,”
“To get drunk?”
“Maybe,”
“Don’t get drunk. It’s not safe to be in here,” he advised.
I smiled. “Why do you care?”
“Because you look like a good girl,”
I smile again at his compliment.
“Yes, that’s true. It’s my first time,”
“I can see that. Are you a student or working?”
“I’m a student. Art major,”
“Art, that’s interesting,” he smiles.
When I was about to ask more questions, Kristen came there and disturbed everything.
“You’re missing out on all the fun,” she dragged me with her.
I looked at Thomas, and he looked the same as me. I didn't want to end the conversation here, but what’s the point of talking?
I went with Kristen to the dance floor.
“That guy looks handsome and weird,”
“No, he’s friendly,”
“You don’t know anything Maxine, you must avoid troublemakers,” she said.
That’s true, Kristen is right as she has much experience. But my gut feeling is telling me that he’s trustable. His eyes were honest and something sparked in it.
Construction on the mansion was in full swing now.Maxine found herself visiting the site more often than she needed to—not just for work, but because she wanted to see her ideas slowly transform into walls, beams, archways, and shadows. There was something sacred about watching your vision take form. Every time she stepped onto the site, something new was standing there. And strangely, it always felt... familiar.She’d worked on many buildings over the past year—apartment renovations, office floor plans, even a library extension—but none had spoken to her soul like this one. As intimidating as its purpose and scale were, something about the space resonated with her own taste. The high ceilings, the gentle flow between rooms, the hidden doors... She would never admit it out loud, but in some strange way, it felt like her house.One evening, as she wandered through what would become the central hallway, a thought struck her with such force that she froze mid-step.One day... I want to
Maxine hadn’t expected her schedule to shift so suddenly, but with half the staff either quitting or conveniently falling “sick,” she found herself filling more roles than ever at Frank Wright’s firm. For the past two weeks, she had been working full time—no longer juggling art school on the side, no longer returning home before dusk. Between motherhood, architecture, and sleepless nights, Maxine felt the tension creeping under her skin.And now, to top it off, she had to visit the construction site of the secretive mansion they had been designing.“Do I really have to go?” she asked Frank that morning as she packed her portfolio.Frank didn’t even look up. “Yes. Peter’s waiting. He’ll drive you.”Maxine sighed and grabbed her sketch folder, the familiar unease settling into her stomach. There was something off about this entire project, and today, for the first time, she’d be standing in the middle of it.Peter, cheerful as ever, was already waiting in the parking lot, leaning casual
Maxine sat at her desk, her hand cramping around her pencil as she stared at the third version of the same layout. Her sketches were sharp, detailed, and precise, but none of it seemed to satisfy Frank Wright. He had been hovering lately, offering too many suggestions, asking for more iterations, pushing for concepts that didn’t quite sit right in her gut.This wasn’t like the previous projects—those were elegant commercial buildings or stylish residential interiors for the wealthy. This one was different. Personal. Obsessively so. It wasn’t just a house. It was a fortress.Maxine was tasked with the early conceptual phase, and at first, she'd been thrilled. Leading the design for a full-scale residential project? It was a huge opportunity, something she’d once dreamed of. But as the details poured in, her excitement curdled into confusion.The house was to be built on a secluded plot of land just outside the city limits, surrounded by trees and accessible by only one winding road. Th
Maxine’s life had finally begun to follow a rhythm, the kind she once thought she’d never reclaim after that night with Thomas. It wasn’t perfect—not even close—but for the first time in a long while, there was a sense of stability. She’d clawed her way out of that haunting spiral of depression, built a life around her son Noah, her studies, and her job, and though she still carried invisible wounds, they no longer bled at every thought of the past.But even so, the scars throbbed in moments of quiet. Especially in the hours just before sleep, when the world fell silent, and she was left alone with her thoughts. That night with Thomas had twisted her life into something unrecognizable, splintered her dreams into pieces. Sometimes, she thought she had glued them back together. Other times, she feared she was only pretending. No matter how much she smiled or how far she ran, there was always a small, heavy stone of worry lodged somewhere deep inside her. An unnamed fear. A lingering sha
The weeks at Frank Wright’s firm settled into a rhythm—one that was relentless, fast-paced, and often emotionally draining. Maxine often felt like she was on a treadmill she couldn’t step off, constantly balancing motherhood, her internship, and her studies, all while trying not to lose herself in the process.But amid the chaos, Peter became a steady presence.He was the first person she saw each morning when she walked through the tall glass doors of the firm. Always with a smirk, always with a sarcastic comment about Frank’s mood for the day.“Brace yourself,” he’d whisper conspiratorially one morning. “Frank’s in a ‘burn everything’ kind of mood.”Maxine had chuckled despite herself. Peter was like that—irreverent, charming in a chaotic kind of way, and always seemingly at ease even in the most stressful situations. She liked that about him. He had this energy that cut through tension and made people feel less alone.Over time, the banter between them grew. They worked closely on
Balancing the life of a student, intern, and mother was like juggling knives on a tightrope—and Maxine Green was always just one misstep away from everything crashing down.Her days began before the sun had even stretched across the sky. At 5:30 a.m., she was up, brushing her teeth while packing Noah’s snacks, ironing her clothes in the dim light of the kitchen, and gulping down weak coffee while bouncing a half-awake toddler on her hip. Noah, now three and filled with a thousand questions, had his own rhythm—a rhythm that didn’t always match hers.“Do you have to go, Mama?” he would ask with wide, sleepy eyes as she buttoned up her coat.Her heart would squeeze every time.“Just for a little while, baby. I’ll be back before you know it.”She would drop him off with her mother, offer a rushed kiss on the cheek, and sprint toward the bus stop with her bag over one shoulder and her dreams packed inside it like precious cargo.Frank Wright’s firm was no place for weakness. The atmosphere
The call came on a Thursday morning, just as Maxine was coaxing a sleepy Noah into his tiny corduroy overalls. Her phone buzzed with a number she didn’t recognize. Expecting it to be one of her freelance clients, she answered with a tired but polite, “Hello?”A deep voice responded, clipped and formal. “Miss Green. This is Frank Wright’s office. Mr. Wright has reviewed your interview and portfolio. He’d like to offer you the internship. You’ll start Monday at 9 a.m.”For a second, the world stood still.“I got it?” she whispered, more to herself than the voice on the other end.“Yes. Congratulations,” came the reply, curt but sincere. “We’ve emailed the onboarding documents. Please be punctual. Mr. Wright values time.”The call ended just as quickly as it came. Maxine stood frozen, the phone still pressed to her ear. Then, slowly, she turned to look at Noah, who was chewing on the strap of his overalls.“I got the job,” she breathed, then let out a laugh—light and full of disbelief. “
Chapter TwelveTwo years had passed since Maxine became a mother, and though time had marched forward, it hadn't made things easier. If anything, it had layered new challenges on top of the old ones. Noah was now a toddler—lively, curious, and utterly exhausting. He ran through rooms like a whirlwind, leaving chaos in his wake and joy in her heart. But love didn’t pay bills, and joy didn’t make ends meet.Maxine worked tirelessly, stringing together part-time jobs while her parents helped watch Noah. She waited tables at a cafe three days a week, assisted in the university’s art lab twice a week, and picked up freelance sketch commissions late into the night. Her dreams of becoming an architect hadn’t faded, but they had been forced to coexist with a reality that left little room for luxury.Her parents had become her safety net. Her mother, always nurturing, handled daycare duty when Maxine’s shifts overlapped. Her father—now more involved than she could’ve hoped for—took to feeding N
Mornings started early in Maxine’s world now. Sometimes too early. The soft cries of Noah roused her before dawn, and even though exhaustion weighed her limbs, she moved. She always moved. With muscle memory and motherly instinct, she reached for him, whispered gentle words, and soothed his small body with her touch.The dorm wasn’t built for motherhood. The space was tight, the walls thin. But somehow, it became a home. Kristen helped rearrange furniture to give Noah a little more space, brought fairy lights and secondhand rugs to brighten the room, and even learned how to warm formula bottles without scalding them.It wasn’t perfect. Some nights, Maxine cried while Noah cried. She'd press her face into a pillow, letting out the frustration and fear she didn’t want to show anyone. She missed having two hands free. She missed having time to think about something other than bottles, burping, diapers, and due dates. She missed the version of herself that existed before—but she didn’t wa
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