Chapter 3

Eight years later

Maverick

I hated being on the wrong side of the media.

Though I owned a multibillion broadcasting company, I tried my best to reduce the media spotlight on me, only exposing myself when it was absolutely necessary. Being the target? It was a traumatic experience.

“This one says ‘The MaveLine Saga; Where is Maverick?’”

Charlie’s voice pierced through my thoughts and I turned to him. His attention was on his Ipad, amusement and annoyance coating his words as he spoke. “It’s from HotGossip blog by the way,” he scrolled. “This one is even more ridiculous. ‘Adeline; Victim and Wife of Maverick Russo.’”

My eyelids snapped shut briefly with controlled irritation, as if I wasn’t a victim myself. As if I wasn’t the biggest victim in everything that had happened between us.

“Ice cold and insensitive, CEO Maverick Russo files divorce papers to his lovely and beautiful wife Adeline Fairfax five months after –this is bullshit man.” Charlie hissed, falling to the sofa and flinging the device to the table as if it was sizzling hot and he wanted nothing to do with it.

I heaved a deep sigh, squeezing my stress ball, my gaze drifting to the portrait of my late father. 

What would you have done dad? I wondered. My father was a master strategist and if he were here, all these wouldn’t have escalated.

Charlie shot up to his feet, eyebrows furrowed in concentration and every bit of playfulness gone from his face. “We’ve managed to get rid of almost every article concerning the divorce but obviously we can’t penetrate most of these independent gossip sites and blogs. They’re like annoying ants, but we can use more force to stop the traffic on their sites.”

I swirled my glass of scotch, the ice cubes clinging together before I took a long sip, enjoying the burning sensation through my throat.

“It’ll die down,” I said, though I didn’t sound too confident. “They’ll find something else to talk about soon enough.”

Charlie sighed, and ran his fingers through his golden hair. A gesture he did when he was over the edge. I watched him sit back on the sofa and brought his glass of scotch to his lips, and then dropped it. “How are you man?” His eyes were full of brotherly concern. “This is me asking as your friend, not your PR Director.”

“I have to keep moving,” I responded with a tight voice. “She’s determined not to sign the divorce papers. It’s stressing me out. The lawyers are handling it but why does she have to make everything so damn difficult.”

“Because she’s a heartless bitch.”

My lips twitched with laughter. No one knew the bitter side of my marriage better than Charlie, a stoic support system and voice of reasoning. “I’ll be resuming work tomorrow, so I guess its good distraction.” My one-month self-imposed break had regrettably come to an end, meaning I was back to work, work and more work.

“You know,” Charlie piqued in, his tone made me narrow my eyes in suspicion. “Now that you’re back, there’s this banging hot new club I want to take you to. You know, now that you’re single.” He wiggled his eyebrows mischievously.

I groaned, shaking my head more times that I could count. “I’ve had enough of women to last a while Charlie. No, thank you.”

Charlie rolled his eyes dramatically. “Urgh. Just one woman Mavey. Besides, you need to explore. Variety is the spice of living you know. Just the other day I ran into this hot Puerto-Rican chic and when I tell you that the sex-“

I flung a pillow at him, cutting him off midsentence. “I don’t want to hear your sex escapade adventures.”

~~~

‘You will never find anyone else Maverick. I am the woman for you. I am the ONLY one for you. You will never find anyone who loves you than me.’

‘Daddy, daddy you killed me.’

I awoke with a gasp, beads of sweats framing my forehead and chest. Nighttime was always the worst for me. The nightmares were stagnant. Sometimes I wouldn’t get any for days, other times they wouldn’t stop for months.

I stretched towards my side table, opening my top drawer and taking out a bright blue hair scrunchie. I squeezed it tight against my chest until I relaxed, and then I began to play with it in between my fingers.

I never forgot about her. I couldn’t forget about her. 

When I found out she had left the next morning, it felt as if a part of me left with her. When I found out she had stolen my wristwatch, I had laughed, impressed because I never pegged her for the stealing type. I had even tried convincing myself that she took it as a memento to remember me, but it was unlikely. 

A part of me was still pissed that she left after what had transpired between us the previous night. My cock twitched at the memory and I gave myself a firm mental shake. That was ten years ago. A long time ago. 

I had no way of contacting and reaching out to her. All I had was this blue scrunchie that I had pulled out of her auburn hair and watched it spread over the bed, fanning her face like a goodness of sex. 

Somehow, I found myself always reaching out to the scrunchie after waking up from a nightmare, and in a manner I couldn’t explain, holding it always seemed to relax me.

~~~

“After the video was posted, it was a chaotic first week,” Vivek, the COO said while on our way to work that Monday morning. Normally I preferred to drive alone, but like Vivek had pointed out; there was strength in numbers. “The radio programs had the worst hit. People kept on calling for more insights on the video, until we had to release a public statement.”

I nodded. Vivek was the best COO anyone could ever ask for and he was also very close to my father. Brothers, but not in blood. 

“Here’s the audience analysis report.” He handed me the file which I flipped open.

My eyes widened momentarily when I saw the charts. “Holy shit.” I exclaimed. I usually didn’t indulge in profanities, but the charts surprised the hell out of me. “A 70% increase overall?”

Vivek laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkled in the process. “Yes, it was that bad.”

I flipped each page, going through and taking in the report. So far, the television programs weren’t really affected. The radio programs and social media pages however were on fire.

“It's been handled and neutralized,” he paused, silence thick in the air until he broke it. “Has she come to see you since you got back?”

I closed the file, a montage flickering through my mind’s eye of our last encounter –our last unpleasant encounter. “No, she hasn’t. I’ve moved to the Penthouse and given the management strict instructions not to let her come in. She has to realize that we’re truly over and her tactics won’t work.”

“I’m sorry,” Vivek’s face was crestfallen, regret lining his voice. “You met her at my party. I introduced you to her myself. I had no idea she- she-“ he struggled with his words.

I squeezed his hand, pouring in words I couldn’t say. “It’s not your fault.”

Just then we arrived at the company, the skyscraper building standing proud and tall. My family’s legacy.

Briskly, Vivek and I got out and walked into the building, ignoring the murmurings and surprised whispers. Taking the common entrance was another power move. Let them come if they dared to.

My strides were fast, my face impassive and hard. The elevator was getting close, closer-

I collided hard against someone, the impact unexpected but with little effect on me. Then I noticed the body pressed against me, one hand on the back of a very familiar small waist and the whiff of vanilla and coconut that had driven me nuts one unforgettable night eight years ago.