SIDDHII

Title: The Maddox Misconception
—a rich, messy, slow-burn drama soaked in secrets, obsession, and the kind of love that ruins and redeems.



Sky Maddox is thirty-two, filthy rich, drop-dead gorgeous—and a single mom to the most unattainable boy in school. Everyone assumes she’s Sebastian’s sister, his sugar mama, or his way-too-young stepmom. But the truth? She’s his mother. The kind who still asks if he’s eaten, sends him “I love you” texts mid-class, and believes her baby boy is the sweetest soul on earth.

But Sebastian Maddox—eighteen, six-foot-two, emotionally unavailable and devastatingly hot—is living a secret double life. He smokes. He rides a bike. He clubs. He hooks up with a new girl every weekend. And behind Sky’s back, he's becoming the one person she never recovered from:

Rain Chen.

The man who left her the moment she got pregnant. The man who taught Sebastian everything he shouldn’t be. The man who just walked back into their lives like a storm, aged like sin and dangerous as ever.

And Rain? He doesn’t want redemption. He wants Sky. He wants control. He wants to shatter the bond between mother and son just to prove that he still can. Because nothing infuriates him more than seeing Sky love Sebastian the way she once loved him.

As secrets spill, old wounds reopen, and love is twisted into rivalry, Sky must confront a brutal truth:

The boy she raised may be the shadow of the man who broke her.

And the biggest misconception of all?
That the Maddox family isn’t already falling apart.

The Maddox Misconception

The buzz of my phone slices through the silence like a scalpel.

I'm still half-asleep on my bed, face buried in the pillow, trying to pretend the last twenty-four hours didn't happen. But it vibrates again. And again.

She's outside a café, holding a book in one hand, her hair cascading down her back in that unreal waterfall way. Her eyes are soft, smiling at something I can't see. She's wearing the coat I bought her last Christmas—the one she said made her feel "Parisian and poetic."

Wonder what would happen if she knew what you really are, Maddox Jr.

You lie to her face every night. She deserves better.

And sooner or later, she's going to see that.

He's watching her. Following her. Taunting me.

I pace my room for a second, heart hammering. Part of me wants to scream, fight, burn something down—but the rest of me knows I need to keep my mouth shut. Because if I tell her, if I so much as breathe his name, she'll break. She'll unravel. And I—

I can't be the reason she falls apart again.

I force my breathing to calm down and head downstairs. The smell of her cooking hits me first—rosemary, butter, that pasta she only makes when she's really happy.

She's barefoot in the kitchen, music playing low, humming as she stirs the pot. Her long hair is braided today, her oversized sweater slipping off one shoulder. She looks like something out of a goddamn painting.

And lights up like she hasn't spent the day being stalked by her psychotic ex or loved a son who keeps secrets.

"There you are, baby," she says, and hurries over.

She wraps her arms around me in that suffocating, sweet way only she can—tight and warm, like I'm still five years old and scraped my knee or something.

"Ugh, you smell like cologne and attitude. You okay?"

She just smooths my hair, smiling. "I made your favorite. Garlic overload and cheese trauma."

I let her talk. Let her pour water, grab plates, ramble about some ridiculous dream she had involving flying cabs and Parisian cats. I laugh where I'm supposed to. I play along.

And all I can feel is the slow, creeping weight of the secret growing between us.

I glance at her—at the way her face glows when she talks, at the trust in her eyes—and I know exactly what Rain meant.

Pretty Little Threats