CHAPTER 4
C HAPTER 4
ALLYN
It’s been five days since my life turned upside down.
Five long, torturous days of being trailed by Maddox, the ever-present shadow in my life that I can’t shake off.
Every day feels like it’s stretching on forever, and every minute spent in his company leaves me more irritable and suffocated than the last.
We’ve been avoiding conversation since that disastrous night in the kitchen. When he practically threatened me, and though he wrapped it up in his usual cold arrogance, the message was clear: keep asking questions, and see what happens next.
And I have to watch him—every damn day.
And even though he keeps his distance while I’m at the shelter, it’s not enough.
I need him gone.
Back to wherever the hell he came from.
I’ve started requesting my meals in my room, away from the prying eyes of my so-called protector.
My room is the one space Maddox can’t invade, thank God for that.
And my mother—don’t even get me started on her.
She’s been blind to the way he treats me, insisting that Maddox is polite, respectful, and a gentleman. She is living in some alternate reality, because the Maddox I see is far from any of those things.
He’s arrogant, rude, and a walking disaster. A red flag waving around, daring anyone to ignore it.
Tonight is yet another peaceful night.
I’m stretched out in my bed, watching How to Train Your Dragon—for the third time this week—nibbling on caramel popcorn.
Just as I’m getting to my favorite part, my phone rings, and a groan escapes me. I glance at the screen , Tamara’s name lights up my screen.
I slide my finger across the screen to pick up.
“Babeee!” she screeches, and I pull the phone away from my ear, wincing at the volume. “What are you doing?’’
“Watching a movie. Why?”
“You sound like my grandmother,” she snickers, and even though it’s meant to be an insult, I take it as a compliment.
“It’s only eight.”
“It’s late for me,” I mutter, settling deeper into my blankets. I like my peace and quiet, and being in bed before ten is the dream.
The phone line goes quiet for a moment, but the muffled sounds of someone yelling and music blaring in the background filter through. Sounds like she is at some loud club or party.
After a beat, she sighs into the phone.
“I’m worried about you.”
‘‘Why?’’
“You don’t leave your house anymore. You shut me down every time I ask you to go somewhere,” she continues, her voice softer now, but still with that hint of frustration.
“You know why,” I answer her simply, because the reason is right downstairs, sitting at the dinner table with my mother.
There’s a silence on her end of the phone, only broken by the low thump of music.
“You can’t let him ruin your life. Fuck him,’’ she said ‘‘You’re going to get up, dress up like the bad bitch you are, and drag your ass to the club.”
I stare at the TV screen, my mind racing.
Before I can answer, she cuts in with her usual energy, “You need to stop letting your life be ruled by those assholes.”
I sit there, the weight of her words sinking in.
She’s right. I’ve been cooped up long enough.
A night out might be just what I need to remind myself that I’m still me—not just a pawn in a game I never asked to play.
I sighed, glancing at the clock.
“Be there in an hour,” I muttered, though she didn’t give me a chance to say anything else before hanging up.
What’s the worst that could happen?
My life is already a disaster.
My future is already written, and I don’t even get to choose the pen.
So why not escape for a little while?
Without overthinking it, I headed straight to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower.
*****
After the long bath, I dressed up, put on some makeup, and I was ready to go.
I took one last glance in the mirror before stepping out, making sure everything was in place. My legs were on full display, the black dress hugging every curve and showcasing my figure.
Okay, I looked damn good.
The white diamond choker and earrings completed the look, giving me an air of elegance despite the rebellious storm brewing inside me. I straightened my hair, letting it cascade down my bare back like silk.
One last check, then I was out the door.
But as I reached the bottom of the stairs, laughter broke through the silence of the house.
It was my mother’s unmistakable laugh. I ignored it and kept moving toward the door, but then I froze.
There they were—my mother and Maddox—standing in the middle of the hall.
“Allyn, where are you going?”
My mother’s voice sliced through the air, and I immediately turned, my heels clicking against the floor with each step I took back toward them.
“And what the hell are you wearing?” she added, her tone dripping with disapproval.
I didn’t care. She could hate it all she wanted, but I wasn’t about to change just to please her.
What caught my attention, though, was Maddox.
He wasn’t standing as rigidly as usual.
His arms were crossed over his broad chest, his dark eyes narrowing in on me as if he were dissecting me piece by piece. There was no judgment in his gaze—at least, not the kind I was used to seeing from him. His eyes slid down my body slowly, almost methodically, and something in me shifted.
Was I imagining it, or was there something else in his eyes? I couldn’t tell, but the intensity of his gaze made my pulse race, a strange warmth creeped up my neck and spread across my skin.
Why was I reacting like this?
He was dressed casually tonight, ditching his usual sharp suits for something black and simple. Still, he looked freaking lethal. The way he stood there—motionless, calculating—his presence dominated the room.
“I’m going out with Tamara,” I said, grabbing my black coat from the hook. It wasn’t for warmth—it was to cover up. To hide from him, from his gaze that felt like it was stripping me bare every damn time he looked at me.
“You can’t just go out without saying a word.’’
I rolled my eyes, not bothering to hide the irritation.
“I could’ve, but you decided to act like a concerned mother for once.”
‘‘Don’t talk to me like that, Allyn,” she snapped, her voice sharp.
I didn’t even flinch. Instead, I shot her a smile, cold and fake, just like her entire facade.
“Whatever.” I brushed it off, my attention now focused on my phone, where Tamara’s name was flashing on the screen. “Can I go now?”
“Only if Maddox is accompanying you.”
“I’m sure Maddox is tired and could use a little break.”
I looked at him, pleading with my eyes, silently begging him to give me a moment’s peace, to let me breathe without his suffocating presence. But, of course, I should’ve known better than to expect any empathy from him.
“I’m ready to go whenever you are ready, Miss Delgado,” he replied, his tone a low growl, as if my frustration only amused him.
He grabbed the keys to his car, his eyes locking onto mine for a brief second—no kindness, just cold determination.
Once again, I was powerless.
Without another word, I turned and walked out, the click of my heels echoing through the silent house.
Maddox’s steps followed behind me, as inevitable as the next breath. We reached the sleek, black, matte Audi parked in front of the house.
The way it gleamed under the moonlight was almost ironic, its smooth surface a stark contrast to the chaos swirling inside me.
He opened the door for me, his face impassive, unyielding.
“You really enjoy ruining my life, don’t you?” I sighed. The words slipped out before I could stop them, laced with bitterness.
Without responding, he closed the door after me with a swift motion, walking around to the driver’s side.
He got in, started the car, and the engine roared to life, the sound reverberating through the quiet night.
He drove off without a word.
His face was as unreadable as ever— detached.
I gritted my teeth, my fists clenching in my lap.
“Is it too much to ask for one normal night?”
“Can you define ‘normal night’ for me, Miss Delgado?”
He was still focused on the road, eyes trained ahead, his grip on the wheel unflinching.
“Because going out dressed like this is hinting to me that you’re looking for much more than a normal night.”
I looked at him, really looked at him for the first time tonight.
His jawline was sharp and defined, flexing slightly with each breath he took, and the way his lips moved when he spoke made my stomach flip in a way I hated myself for.
His tattoos peeked out from under the sleeves of his jacket, a silent but striking reminder of the kind of man he was— dangerous, raw, and undeniably attractive in a way that made no sense.
“Excuse me, but who do you think you are to tell me how to dress?”
The car picked up speed, the engine growling beneath us as if it were mirroring the tension in the air.
“You have to hold a certain status in society if you are going to be part of The King Family. This dress is inappropriate. You are dressed like a—”
He stopped mid-sentence. His jaw clenched briefly before he sighed.
“Never mind.”
“I’m dressed like a what?”
I challenged, raising an eyebrow, my voice dripping with defiance. My blood was starting to boil. I was done with his condescending tone, done with him assuming he could speak to me like that.
His black eyes flicked to me for a brief second, sharp as a blade, before he leaned back against the seat, his expression unreadable.
“You’re dressed like a slut, Allyn. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
His voice was so flat, so unaffected by the venom he spat, as though he didn’t care that his words could wound.
“A slut looking for a quick fuck tonight.”
The words struck me like a blow to the gut.
It was cruel, vulgar, and yet… there was something about it that sent an unexpected thrill through my body. I felt a strange mix of anger and… something else.
I couldn’t just let him win.
I needed to push, needed to test him. I wasn’t sure why, but the fire inside me wouldn’t let me back down.
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s what I’m looking for.’’
It wasn’t true, not at all.
But the way his face twisted, just for a split second, told me I had struck a nerve.
That reaction? It was worth it.
There was a storm in him—something violent and dangerous, but also something raw. Something that scared me, but at the same time, it was… magnetic. I glanced at his lips, those full, unforgiving lips, and an unexpected thought flashed through my mind.
What would it feel like to kiss a man like him?
I quickly pushed the thought aside.
It wasn’t just dangerous—it was insane.
But still, the idea lingered.
The thought of it was like something savage, something forbidden, but I couldn’t quite shake the feeling that kissing him would be brutal—exactly like him.
We were both staring at each other as if in a trance. I don’t even know when I moved so close to him that I could smell his scent.
I was so close that I could see every little detail of his cruel face.
I noticed small scars beneath the ink on his neck. I saw everything that made him who he was.
Maddox was the one who pulled away as if something snapped him back to reality. I don’t know why, but I felt a hint of disappointment at that.
“We’ve arrived.”
“Thanks,” I mumbled.
I got out of the car, not waiting for him to open the door.
And just to push his buttons further, I slammed the door behind me.
Hard.