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

I should've known something was off the second I stepped through the door.

No "baby, you're late," no cheek kisses, no dinner on the table even though the house still smelled faintly of roasted tomatoes and basil, like she started cooking and then forgot to finish. No Sky. Just silence and the soft ticking of the stupid expensive French clock she bought for the hallway. It felt like walking into a graveyard.

"Mom?" I called out, kicking my shoes off.

The light in the kitchen was still on, dim and gold, and I could see the curve of her silhouette seated at the table. My throat tightened.

She wasn't humming like she always did.

No warm smile. No over-affectionate rambling about how cold it is outside or how I didn't wear a jacket again. Just her, sitting there in her silk robe, hair still cascading down her back like a river of night, completely still. I swallowed hard and stepped closer.

She looked up slowly. Her eyes were bloodshot, cheeks pale. There was a damp tissue in her hand. And on the table in front of her—

The ones of me smoking on my bike, drunk at some alley club, making out with Demi against a wall like I didn't have a mother at home making dinner for me, praying for me. Every one of those moments where I felt untouchable, where I thought I was clever, reckless, invisible—laid out right in front of her like proof in a trial.

Her lips parted, trembling. "Please," she whispered, her voice cracking like porcelain, "Please, Sebby baby… tell me it's not you."

My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Her fingers curled around the photos tighter, shaking. I noticed the sweat on her temples, the way her breathing sounded thick, almost labored. Her forehead was flushed with fever, but she didn't move. Didn't get up. Didn't mother me like usual.

Just sat there, fragile and broken in a way I had never seen her.

"I—I don't…" I tried, voice hoarse. I couldn't lie. Not with her looking at me like that. Like I had carved the betrayal into her ribcage with my own hands.

"I didn't want you to find out this way."

Her chest rose slowly. Her lips parted again but no sound came.

I took a step closer. She flinched.

That hurt more than anything Rain could've ever said to me.

The room felt like it was closing in. The air, too thick. My lungs wouldn't work.

All I wanted to do was fall at her knees and beg her to love me the way she used to—before she found out who I really was.

But she looked like she didn't even recognize me.

She didn't reply. She turned her face away and stared at the photos again.

I had broken the one person who had never stopped believing in me.

Please Tell Me It’s Not You, Sebby Baby