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

They say love turns to rot when it's left too long in the wrong hands. She stayed anyway. And I? I made sure she did.

At first, she was perfect—soft-spoken, warm, a bit too trusting for her own good. Teachers adored her. Guys stared. Girls either clung to her or hated her. She smiled at everyone.

She had this habit of hugging people too easily.

Laughing too much with other boys.

Wearing her skirts too short without realizing it.

"You're flirting again," I told her once, my tone flat, my arm tight around her waist as we left a party.

Her eyes widened. "What? No, Rain, I wasn't—"

"Right." I let go of her waist. "Maybe he can drive you home then."

Her mouth dropped open. She chased after me, grabbed my hand. "Rain, please—"

I asked her to change her clothes before we went out.

Told her which friends were bad influences.

Picked fights every time she laughed too loud at another guy's joke.

Because I made her feel like being loved meant being chosen.

And being chosen meant being obedient.

At first in private. Then later, with her face buried in my chest.

And I'd always say the same thing:

"I just love you too much. That's why it hurts."

She wore that like a badge of honor.

I remember the exact moment I knew I had her.

We were at my place. She was curled up in my hoodie, cheeks red from arguing. I'd accused her of cheating—again—and she was shaking, breath hitching, but refusing to yell.

"I don't know what I did wrong," she whispered.

I crouched in front of her, lifted her chin, wiped her tears with my thumb.

"You made me worry," I said, voice low. "You made me feel replaceable."

Her lips trembled. "You're not replaceable."

And that night, when she fell asleep wrapped around me, I stared at the ceiling and smiled.

They don't talk about how good power feels.

How intoxicating it is to have someone so kind, so soft, so loyal—and know they'd shatter if you walked away.

She didn't realize I was built this way.

There's this one memory I always come back to.

She was running late for our date. I found her laughing in the hallway with another guy. A harmless moment. A fleeting thing.

I didn't speak to her the entire walk home.

She kept looking at me, eyes glassy.

Finally, in the elevator, she reached for my hand. "Rain… please."

"Why don't you go back to him if I'm so impossible?"

Because later, when she kissed me like I was the only air in the room, I knew she'd never leave.

Not even when I stopped pretending to be good.

Not even when I started breaking her in pieces so small she couldn't tell where she ended and I began.

You want to know when love turned?

Sweetheart, You Were Made to Break