Born To Be More

The crazy kind

Raine

Pulling up to the hotel with Caine, I stare out the window and try not to fidget. How the hell did I get so wrapped up in Max Crawford's world so quickly? Just a week ago, I was on a plane, minding my own business. Now I'm here, in New York, with a job, security, an assistant... and a boyfriend who seems to have taken over every part of my life without even asking permission.

I glance at Caine, who’s checking his phone.

“You ready, Raine? You’re gonna love my uncle. He’s great. Oh—and I heard Max is already inside.”

“Yeah…” I shift in my seat. “That’s actually what I was just thinking about.”

Caine raises a brow. “What, Max being here?”

“Yeah. I mean, he’s my boyfriend, not my agent. This is a work meeting, right? It feels... I don’t know—kind of weird that he’s joining us.”

He pauses, eyeing me like he’s reading between the lines. “Everything okay with Max? Because if not, I can totally kick his ass now and save us all time.”

That makes me laugh, even if it’s only half a laugh.

“No, it’s not that. Everything with Max is… amazing, actually.” I pause, brushing my hands down my skirt. “It’s just all moving so fast. Like I blinked and suddenly my whole life has changed.”

Caine gives a thoughtful nod and then reaches over to squeeze my shoulder. “You’re handling it better than most would, Raine. And for what it’s worth, I think Max is trying his best to protect you, not control you. But I get it. Just breathe. You’ve got people around you who’ve got your back.”

I nod, grateful. “Thanks, Caine.”

He flashes a warm grin. “Now come on—Melissa is dying to see you again, and if we make her wait too long, she’ll blame me.”

The hostess greets us with a smile and leads us to a table tucked into the back of the restaurant. I spot Melissa, Max, and two unfamiliar—very attractive—men already seated. One of them is a little older, likely Caine’s uncle and possibly my future agent. The other is younger, about my age, and looks like he just stepped out of GQ—all charm, sculpted jawline, and tailored perfection. Lacy would be drooling.

Still, it’s Max who holds my attention. Always.

They stand as we approach. Max moves to my side immediately, brushing a kiss across my cheek and sliding an arm around my back, pulling me in close.

“Heya, beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin.

Heat blooms instantly in my chest. “Hey,” I breathe, unable to stop the smile that takes over my face.

“Raine,” Caine says, gesturing to the older gentleman first. “This is my uncle, Ben—your agent, if everything goes well today. And this,” he adds, nodding to the younger man, “is his son, Kennedy—my cousin.”

I shake their hands. Ben’s grip is firm and professional. Kennedy’s? A little too slow to let go. His eyes linger, charming and curious.

“Hi, nice to meet you both,” I say with a polite smile, tucking myself a little closer into Max’s side—just enough to make a point.

Melissa rises and pulls me in for a quick hug. “You look amazing, Raine. Yesterday’s chaos suits you.”

I laugh as we all take our seats again. I end up between Max and Melissa, and suddenly, this whole lunch feels like a very elegant version of meet the family.

Only it’s not just family. It’s business too.

And I have no idea how either of those things are about to go.

“Let’s order some drinks and lunch, then we can get to know you better,” Ben says warmly.

“Sounds good,” Caine agrees.

Menus are passed around as a waitress approaches—young, polished, and clearly far more interested in the male population at the table than anything printed on her notepad. She flutters, giggles, and blatantly flirts with every man present. It's nauseating.

To their credit, none of them take the bait. Not even Max.

In fact, Max places his hand on my thigh under the table and gives it a subtle squeeze, pulling my focus back. His thumb strokes gently—grounding me. I take a breath and smile.

“I’ll have the steak with stuffed potato, mushroom sauce, and the onion and camembert rings, please,” I say to the waitress, who doesn’t even look at me.

Her eyes are glued to Max.

“Did you get that?” he asks her, his tone dry, but amused.

“Yes, of course,” she replies sweetly, batting her lashes like she’s in a goddamn shampoo commercial.

Before Max can say anything else, Kennedy cuts in, his voice sharp and smooth. “We’d appreciate a bottle of water for the table—and a bit more professionalism when you return.”

The waitress freezes, cheeks flushing bright red. She mumbles a quick, “Yes, sir,” and scurries off with our orders.

“She must be new,” Ben mutters, clearly displeased. He glances apologetically at me. “Sorry about that, Raine.”

I wave it off with a shrug. “No worries, Ben. I’m sure I’ll get used to it.”

The table goes quiet for a beat. Caine shifts in his seat. Melissa frowns. Max’s hand tightens slightly on my thigh.

What? What did I say?

Then it hits me.

They’re not quiet because I brushed off the waitress—they’re quiet because I shouldn’t have to get used to it.

And Max? He looks like he wants to break something.

“So, welcome to Heritage Management, Raine. We’re really happy to have you on board,” Ben says with a smile. “I hear you already managed to shake things up at Chic yesterday.”

I blush, heat creeping into my cheeks as I glance over at Caine. “You told him?”

“Nope,” Caine says, shaking his head.

“It was me,” Kennedy chimes in, grinning. “I dropped by the studio yesterday and caught the tail end of your paint shoot. You were incredible, Raine. The execs haven’t stopped talking about you. And in this city? Word of mouth travels faster than Granny’s gossip group.”

Max shifts beside me, and I feel the subtle tension roll through him. I slide my hand over his, grounding him the way he always seems to do for me. His hand softens under mine.

Ben chuckles. “I’ve already got a sizable stack of collaboration requests sitting on my desk—people lining up to work with you. We’ll go through them together next week, figure out your preferences, and build your schedule accordingly.”

“Thank you, I’d really appreciate that,” I say, trying not to feel overwhelmed by the idea of people lining up.

“I understand you’ve got an assistant starting Monday?” Ben adds.

“Yes. I’ll be meeting with her this afternoon to go over everything,” I reply.

“Perfect. I’ll cross-reference your existing commitments with the offers coming in. You’ll have final say on what you take—no pressure, no obligations. It’s your career, Raine. Our job is to make it easier.”

That kind of clarity and support makes me breathe just a little deeper.

“That sounds great,” I say honestly. “Thank you, Ben.”

Ben looks across the table at me, his tone sincere. “Raine, we’ll look out for you. I know things weren’t great with your last agent, but you’re in good hands now. We’re the best at what we do—and Max can vouch for that.”

I glance at Max, who’s already watching me with that signature, heart-stopping smirk. He winks, and my pulse does a little flip.

“Thank you,” I say. “I really appreciate that. There are a few things I’m passionate about that I’d love to weave into my career.”

“Oh?” Max asks, his voice low and curious. “Tell us, Angel.”

I take a breath, choosing my words with care. “I love working with communities—especially creating opportunities for people who don’t always get the chance to shine. Teenagers, mostly, kids from hard places. I also care deeply about conservation, especially protecting wild animals like horses and wolves. I’ve always felt drawn to that.”

The table falls quiet.

Kennedy’s mouth hangs open just slightly, like I just knocked the wind out of him. Ben’s gaze sharpens, his eyes fixed on me with quiet intensity.

And Max? He looks like he just won the f*****g lottery.

“Uh…” Kennedy finally manages. “That’s… beautiful, Raine. Really beautiful.”

Max’s fingers lace through mine and he brings our joined hands to his lips. “I know,” he says simply, pride evident in his voice. “She’s one of a kind.”

Lunch was delicious, and thankfully, the flirty waitress was replaced by someone far more professional, making the whole experience feel a lot more comfortable.

Melissa and I slipped easily into conversation, leaving the men to their chat about business and sport. It was nice to relax for a moment—just two women talking over a good meal while the buzz of the city hummed beyond the windows.

Max, ever the charming distraction, was deep in conversation but still managed to steal one of my onion rings. I narrowed my eyes at him and raised my fork in warning.

“Don’t get between Rainey and food,” he said with a chuckle, completely unbothered.

“Or coffee,” Caine added with a laugh. “We nearly lost her this morning when Mary rolled the coffee cart in. She looked like she’d found salvation.”

I rolled my eyes. “A girl needs her coffee—and her phone.”

“Yes! Thank you!” Melissa chimed in dramatically. “Phone, coffee, and a little chaos to keep life interesting.”

“Thanks, Moo,” I teased, grinning.

Melissa gasped, clapping her hands. “I have a nickname already!”

I laughed, the sound light and easy. For the first time in days, I felt almost... settled. Connected.

We wrap up lunch, and after saying goodbye to Ben and Kennedy, Max walks me out onto the footpath outside the hotel.

“Can I pick you up from work?” he asks as we pause by the valet lane.

“Oh, I’m actually heading home now,” I reply. “Tiffany’s coming over to go through her role, and then I’m done for the day.”

“Perfect. I’ll meet you at your place in a couple of hours, then?”

“Sure. See you soon,” I say.

He pulls me into a hug, brushing a soft kiss over my cheek. My heart rate spikes instantly. God, what is it about this man? Every time he touches me, it’s like my whole system reacts—heart racing, skin heating. It’s maddening.

But then I glance up from his shoulder... and freeze.

A man stands across the street, eyes locked on mine, a smirk curling his lips.

My breath stutters. Him.

It’s him.

Max feels me tense and immediately follows my gaze. “Max,” I whisper urgently, “he’s here. It’s Mark.”

Max moves fast—pulling me protectively into his side, spinning just in time to catch a glimpse of the man slipping around the corner.

“Sam!” Max barks. Sam appears instantly.

“Mark is here. Call the others, get the street tapes. Meet me at Raine’s apartment.” His voice is steel.

Melissa is suddenly beside me, gripping my arm gently. “Raine, what’s going on?”

Caine’s already stepping forward, explaining quickly while herded movement begins around us. I barely register the words, my mind spinning. I can’t stop seeing that smirk, can’t shake the feeling crawling under my skin.

We pile into the cars in silence.

My hands tremble in my lap.

He found me.

And this time, he wasn’t hiding.

The whole car ride, Max is shouting into his phone. I’m guessing it’s Rion on the other end.

“Why the f**k is he not detained after what he pulled in LA?” Max growls, pacing his voice like a ticking bomb. I grip his hand, needing to ground him—because his anger is feeding the anxiety bubbling in my chest.

A moment later, his jaw tightens as he forces his voice to a lower register. “Find out everything you can. Then meet me at Raine’s.”

He ends the call and sighs, bringing my hand to his lips. “I’m sorry, Angel.”

I shake my head. “Max... he wanted me to see him. He was watching. That look—it was deliberate. Like he knew exactly where I’d be.” I pause, dread swirling in my gut. “Do you think someone leaked my schedule? Or... has he been following me?”

Max doesn’t answer right away. He glances at Sam in the rearview mirror, and they exchange a silent, tense look that confirms everything I’m afraid of.

“I don’t know yet,” he says finally. “But that’s a damn good question.”

We reach the apartment and head straight up. In the lift, Max pulls me into his arms.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Angel,” he says, voice low, fierce.

I rest my forehead against his chest. “Max... you can’t promise that. But thank you for saying it.”

Inside, I head straight to the fridge. “Want a drink?” I ask over my shoulder.

“No thanks, Angel,” he replies, his eyes never leaving me.

My phone rings—my aunt.

Surprising.

“Hello?” I answer cautiously.

“Hello, Raine. How are you?” she asks, sickly sweet. Immediate red flag.

“I’m fine. How are you?” I ask, polite out of habit.

A pause. I hear her huff.

“Can I help you with something?” I ask.

“Well,” she snaps, “I didn’t even know you’d left the country. You should’ve told me. After everything I’ve done for you, Raine. You owe me at least that. You know, you were a burden. I put my life on hold for you.”

My blood goes cold. Max stiffens across the room, clearly hearing every word. I grip the counter, jaw tight.

She’s always been like this—but now, I’m not that scared little girl anymore.

“So what do you want, Aunty? You’ve never cared where I was or what I was doing. Why now?” I ask flatly.

“Well, now that you're famous in New Zealand,” she snaps, “reporters have been sniffing around. I just think you should be... complimentary of your time with me. And frankly, I deserve some money for looking after you. Don’t you agree?”

I blink. “No. I don’t.”

“You gave me a roof over my head, sure. But that was all. You spent most of your time whoring around and leaving me home alone, pretending I didn’t exist—and now you want compliments and compensation?” My voice rises, trembling with fury. “You’re unbelievable.”

She screams down the line and hangs up.

“Jesus,” I mutter.

“Angel, are you okay?” Max asks, already moving toward me, eyes dark.

“That was my crazy aunty—and not the cool crazy type. She’s manipulative, cruel, and apparently wants money for raising me. Calls me a burden.”

Max growls low in his throat. The sound vibrates in my chest—and somehow, between the rage and the shock, it turns me on. What the hell is wrong with me?

He raises an eyebrow like he knows, and I can’t help but chuckle.

“Growling now, hmm Max?”

He smirks and pulls me into his chest.

“Mine,” he whispers against my hair.

And just faintly, like a breeze brushing across my mind, I hear that voice again:

Mate.

It’s been happening more and more lately. Maybe I should start meditating again. Or maybe I’m going insane.

Sam, Rion, and a couple of other men turn up to meet with Max.

“Since you all plan on turning my apartment into mission control,” I say dryly, “the living room is all yours.”

A knock at the door cuts me off. Tiffany, most likely.

Max is already on his feet, opening the door before I can move. I hear polite chatter before he brings her in.

Tiffany greets me with a smile, then glances over at Max. He kisses me lightly. “I’ll be in the living room with the boys, baby. If you need anything, call out,” he says before walking off.

Weird... but okay.

Tiffany launches into her credentials, rattling off her experience confidently. I let her talk, then explain that I’m new to all this and still finding my feet. We go over what a typical day might look like, and I ask her to be here at 8 a.m. Monday. I’ll have a schedule ready for her by then.

We touch on the kinds of clients I’ll be working with, and I make it clear that security will always be with us.

Right on cue, Rion walks in to introduce himself—and that’s when things go off the rails.

Tiffany practically starts drooling.

She fumbles through a greeting, her eyes never leaving him. It’s almost comical, especially the look on Rion’s face—somewhere between confused and trapped. He tries to explain some security measures, but I can tell she didn’t hear a word.

I clear my throat. “We’ll also need to discuss appropriate attire for this role,” I say pointedly.

As the words leave my mouth, a nagging thought creeps in.

Did I just make the wrong choice?

She looked a little too casual for a professional meeting—not that I expected a three-piece suit, but her shirt was unbuttoned enough that her boobs were practically one bounce away from freedom. I sighed inwardly.

“Well, that’s us for today. Go and have a great weekend. I’ll see you Monday at 8 a.m., okay?” I said, forcing a polite smile.

She hopped off the stool with a chipper “Will do!” and made a beeline for the door. I followed close behind—no way I was letting her wander through my apartment full of distracted, testosterone-heavy men.

“Thanks again for coming by,” I said as I opened the door for her.

Sam appeared like clockwork. “I’ll walk her out, Raine.”

“Thanks, Sam,” I said, grateful for the rescue. I stepped back and let him handle it.

As the door closed behind them, I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled.

Creepy stalker guy is lurking again. My assistant looks like she’s auditioning for The Bachelor.

Just freaking perfect.