Games 029
Games 029
Knox POV
The moment I saw Hartley standing there, everything I’d buried came clawing back like a ghost that never really died.
He looked the same, younger, more pretty, sharper around the edges, maybe a little colder but his eyes still gave him away. They always did. A man could wear all the suits, titles, and masks he wanted, but his eyes? They betrayed everything.
I’d seen that look once before, years ago, the night I told him I loved him and he told me to leave. He’d said the words clean, like they didn’t cost him anything. But I saw his hands tremble as he said them. I knew he was lying, but I let him keep the lie.
Now, standing under these lights again, he still had that same demeanor I loved seeing in him, that same smile that always knows how to pull at my heart.
Then came him.
Maddox.
The air changed the second he walked in. Cold, calculating. The kind of man who could smile while burning down a city. Even without being introduced, I could tell what he was to Hartley, I don't know why Hartley has been protecting him for long.
The way Hartley stiffened at his approach said it all.
I stayed quiet as Maddox’s eyes met mine. He didn’t have to speak; I’d dealt with his type before. The possessive silence, the silent warning and mine.
So, naturally, I smiled.
“Evening, Maddox,” I said, letting his name roll off my tongue like a taunt. “You clean up well.”
He didn’t take the bait, he just kept that perfect, unreadable expression, like he was deciding whether to say something worse or just ignore me.
“Can’t say the same for your taste in timing,” he replied.
I chuckled. The sound turned a few heads nearby, but I didn’t care. “Always so territorial.”
Hartley looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole. His shoulders were tense, his hands shoved in his pockets — his usual defense mechanism. I knew all his tells.
I leaned slightly closer, my voice quiet enough that only the two of them could hear. “Don’t worry, Maddox. I’m not here to steal your man.”
Hartley stiffened even more, whispering, “Knox—”
Maddox’s eyes darkened, his gaze wavering for a moment.
“He’s not my man,” Maddox said smoothly. “But he knows better than to get lost in the past.”
I tilted my head, smiling. “The past has a habit of showing up when it’s not done with you.”
Hartley’s breath hitched — I caught it, even if Maddox pretended not to.
For a few seconds, the three of us just stood there, the music fading into background noise. The tension was a living thing, thrumming like static in the air.
Finally, Maddox broke the silence. “Camille,” he called, his tone sharp.
The woman behind him stepped forward instantly, composed and professional.
“Find us a table nearby,” Maddox ordered without taking his eyes off me.
Camille nodded and disappeared into the crowd.
Then Maddox turned back, his gaze slicing right through me. “Enjoy your evening, Knox. But stay out of mine.”
And just like that, he brushed past me, his shoulder grazing mine.
I turned to watch Hartley, who hesitated before following Maddox. He looked back once, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t.
I smiled faintly.
Still the same coward, still the same boy who ran from his own heart and feelings.
And yet, as I watched him walk away, I couldn’t stop the old ache from returning.
Because even after all these years, even after all the anger, I still wanted him to turn around and stay.
He didn’t.
Of course he didn’t.
I slipped my hands into my pockets, exhaling slowly as I stared at the painting in front of me — the one I’d made for him years ago. The one he never knew was about him.
He’d walked right past it without even realizing.
Fool.
And that, somehow, hurt worse than the night he said he didn’t love me.
“Still blind, Hart,” I whispered under my breath. “Still running from what’s already yours.”
Then, as the music swelled again, I smiled to myself — not with sadness this time, but with a quiet, dangerous resolve.
If fate wanted to play this game again, I wasn’t running anymore.
Not this time.
He thought he’d buried me once.
Now, it was my turn to dig him up.