It began with a garden walk.
Maddie didn’t announce herself.
She simply appeared beside Graham the next morning as he pruned the hydrangeas, his sleeves rolled up, sun dappling his forearms. There was a quiet strength to him—clean, earthy, grounded in a way no one else in the house was.
He didn’t look at her when she joined him. Just passed her the shears.
“You’re not really here to garden,” he said.
Maddie took the tool with a smile. “Maybe I’m here for something rooted.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t look up.
“You like making people unravel.”
“No.” She trimmed a bloom. “I like watching them choose to.”
That got his attention.
He turned.
Really looked at her.
No heat. No lust.
Just that steady, sharp awareness that made her feel… seen in a way that had nothing to do with skin.
And for the first time in a long while—
Maddie felt exposed.
That night, she didn’t go to Vanessa.
Didn’t summon Celeste.
She let both women sleep unsatisfied. Wanting.
And instead, she changed into a soft robe the color of antique ivory, brushed out her hair until it floated like silk down her back, and walked barefoot across the house to Graham’s study.
No knock.
Just the gentle click of the door behind her.
Graham was at his desk. Glass of scotch in hand. Reading a book by lamplight.
He looked up once.
Then looked back down.
Maddie said nothing.
She walked slowly to the sofa. Sat. Crossed her legs.
The robe parted just enough to show bare thigh.
“You’ve watched me.”
A beat.
“Everyone watches you,” he said without looking up.
“But you don’t move.”
“Because I don’t need to chase the sun to know it’s hot.”
That answer sent a little chill down her spine.
But she didn’t let it show.
She leaned back, draping herself like silk across the sofa.
“What if the sun came to you?”
Graham took a slow sip of scotch.
“Then I’d wonder what it wants. What it’s trying to burn down.”
“Maybe I want to see what you’re made of.”
“Steel and patience,” he said. Finally, he stood. Walked to the fireplace. “And neither melt easily.”
Maddie rose too.
Approached slowly.
Until they stood chest to chest.
Her hand rested against his shirt.
“That’s not what I see.”
He stared at her. Silent.
And then—
He stepped away.
“Goodnight, Maddie.”
She didn’t sleep.
She lay in bed, aroused and frustrated and buzzing from the refusal.
He hadn’t said no.
He had commanded space.
And that… that made him more dangerous than any of them.
The next few days were a balancing act.
She played her roles like a virtuoso.
Vanessa came to her late at night, whispered needs spilling like wine, fingers grasping at Maddie’s body as if contact was oxygen. Maddie gave just enough to keep her hooked—but withheld the rest, reminding her who controlled the rhythm.
Celeste tried to dominate again.
Failed.
Woke up panting into the pillow, spread and wrecked, her hand clenched in Maddie’s hair as she cried out into the night, surrendering again and again.
And Graham?
He remained still.
Too still.
Every breakfast, he read the paper while Vanessa tried not to stare. Every afternoon, he walked the gardens as Maddie lounged near the fountain, skin glistening, pretending not to watch him.
Until Thursday night.
It rained.
Thunder. Soft, sultry lightning behind the curtains.
Maddie was restless.
She wandered.
Robe open, silk clinging to her skin. Her nipples peaked through the fabric. No underwear.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
She paused outside Graham’s door.
Hand hovering.
No sound.
Then, from behind her—
“You’re not here for the others tonight, are you?”
His voice.
Low. Close. Dangerous.
She turned.
He was in the hall behind her, sleeves rolled, shirt damp from the storm, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them.
“I came for you.”
He stepped close.
“No robe. No pretense. Just you.”
She nodded.
He didn’t move.
“Say it.”
“I came for you, Graham.”
His jaw flexed.
He opened the door.
Let her in.
Inside, everything changed.
The walls felt tighter.
The space denser.
He closed the door and locked it.
Then turned.
But didn’t touch her.
Just unbuttoned his shirt. Slowly. Deliberately.
“You’re not in control here, Maddie.”
Her mouth parted.
He stepped closer.
“You’ve taken them all apart.”
He reached out.
Took her chin.
“Now it’s your turn.”
He kissed her.
Hard.
And for the first time since arriving at the estate—
Maddie moaned into someone’s mouth with genuine shock.
His hands were rough, large, knowing.
He picked her up.
Carried her.
No words. No permission. Just fire.
She was pinned to the bed. Spread. Taken.
And yet—
He didn’t rush.
He devoured.
Like he’d waited long enough.
And she let him.
Because this wasn’t about dominance.
It was about equilibrium.
And when she finally came, gasping, shaking, her nails dug into his shoulders, she whispered—
“You waited to break me.”
And he whispered back:
“No. I waited to show you you’re not the only one who can burn.”
They lay in the aftermath.
Maddie’s head on his chest.
His hand in her hair.
And neither of them spoke for a long, long time.
Until—
A click.
A creak.
The door opened.
Too fast.
Maddie shot up.
Graham stood, wrapping a sheet around himself.
And standing in the doorway—
Vanessa.
And just behind her…
Celeste.
Their faces unreadable.
Their eyes locked not on Graham.
But on Maddie.
And everything changed.
XOXO
Maddie’s Page