Chapter 26
Dahlia
I still can’t look at Xander without heat crawling up my neck. Bits and pieces of my drunken behavior have slipped through, each one more humiliating than the last. I hid in my room for days, doing my best to avoid him.
Turns out I didn’t need to bother. According to Marco, Xander hadn’t left his office since the morning after the dinner. Before I woke, he was already working. By the time I fell asleep, the light under his door was still on.
Now, sitting in the car beside him, I pretend to study the blur of trees outside my window. My gaze stays fixed on the glass, never on the man beside me. That doesn’t stop my skin from tingling where his arm brushes mine as he talks on the phone.
Whatever he’s discussing, it sounds important by the way his voice hardens. I can’t connect this version of him with the man who left water and painkillers beside my bed, along with a note telling me to take them.
Everything about him contradicts itself. The man who made it possible for a single mom to keep her head above water. The man who listened to my drunk rambling and is now taking me out because I asked. Is the same man working with Elliot, who chased me down and tried to kill me?
“Finalize the acquisition.” His voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and clear. His brows pull together as he listens to the reply.
His tone could freeze glass, but when the other person speaks again, he exhales slowly, patient in a way I didn’t expect. He runs through a list of steps, calm and deliberate, explaining how to get the deal done.
I focus on my dress instead. The crystal beads sewn into the silk catch the passing light, scattering it across my lap. Mrs. Price had offered a new gown for the event, but I couldn’t bring myself to wear anything else. This one had been hanging in my room all week, calling to me.
The fabric glides over my skin, cool and smooth. It’s heavier than I expected from the beadwork, hugging every curve like it was made for me. Maybe it was. A sapphire the size of an egg rests just above the dip of the neckline, drawing the eye there.
I’ve been washed, styled, and shaped into someone who looks like she belongs at his side. Yet the unease won’t leave. I’m a woman more comfortable with dirt beneath my nails and smudges on my face. This dress feels like it belongs to someone else.
I slip a finger under the thin strap that keeps sliding off my shoulder and run it back and forth, lost in thought. Will they be able to tell? That I’m pretending? That I’ve slipped into a costume for the night?
I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful. My eyes sit a little too far apart. My hair is plain brown, the kind you lose in a crowd. My grandmother used to say I was “unique,” that it made me stand out. But the world has a way of showing you the truth.
A rough hand closes around my fingers, snapping me out of my thoughts.
Before I can react, Xander turns me toward him.
His gray eyes sweep over my face, slow and steady.
My throat tightens under the weight of it.
It feels like he’s peeling me open, reading every thought I’ve tried to hide. I drop my chin to break the stare.
A faint voice spills from the speaker of his phone, the one sitting forgotten on his lap. The sound is muffled, tinny, like whoever’s on the other end is far away.
Xander follows my gaze, presses the End button, and sets the phone aside without a word.
“Wasn’t that important?” I ask, still looking at the phone.
Warm fingers slide around the back of my neck. His thumb finds the edge of my jaw and lifts until I meet his eyes again.
“Nothing is as important as you.”
He says it without hesitation, voice calm and certain.
I try not to laugh. My shoulders shake anyway, and the harder I fight it, the worse it gets until a snort escapes.
Xander pulls back slightly, brow raised. “Are you laughing?”
I press my lips together, but the smile wins. “It was a little corny.”
The words slip out before I can stop them. My chest tightens. Bradley used to hate being teased. Said it made him look weak. I can only imagine how someone like Xander will take it. I brace myself, smile fading as I wait for the shift.
Instead, Xander laughs.
It starts as a soft chuckle, then rolls into something full and real. The sound fills the space between us, warm and deep. His shoulders shake, and light catches in his eyes, bright and alive.
“Yeah,” he says, still grinning. “I guess it was.”
I fidget with the strap of my dress again, twisting it between my fingers. That’s when I notice his hand is still on mine.
He guides it up, slowly and surely, placing it back on my shoulder. His touch lingers a heartbeat longer than it should.
Then he leans in, close enough that our noses almost brush. His voice drops low, rough around the edges.
“What should I say? That you’re stunning? That I can’t keep my eyes off you? That from the second you walked down the stairs, my heart hasn’t slowed once?”
His breath grazes my skin.
“That I haven’t been able to think with you sitting this close.
That I can’t remember a single word my secretary just said.
” His nose drifts along mine. “Should I tell you my thoughts have narrowed to your lips? How you’d taste beneath me.
The sounds you’d make. That it took every bit of restraint not to drag you back upstairs and devour you whole? ”
My lungs burn. I can’t pull in air, can’t think. He’s too close, his words too heavy.
Then he eases back, his mouth curving slightly. “Or would that be too corny?”
It takes me a moment to catch up, to pull myself out of the fog he’s left me in. He lifts my hand, his thumb brushing over his name inked into my skin with almost reverent care.
By the time I notice the small velvet box in his other hand, it’s already open.
“What if I told you the only thing stopping me is knowing when you walk in there, every person in that room will be jealous of my wife?”
He slides the rings on one at a time. The diamond catches the light, big enough to stretch from knuckle to knuckle. A thin gold band settles neatly beneath it.
“My entire life, I’ve hated when people coveted what I had,” he says quietly. “But it’s different now. I’ve never had anything this precious. I want them to see it. To see you. To know you’re mine.”
He squeezes my hand once before turning it over. His lips press against my palm, soft and deliberate. The warmth shoots up my arm, settling in my chest. He doesn’t look away as he lifts his head.
“Wear it for me tonight. Let me show you off.”
Heat rushes through me, filling every inch of space until I can barely breathe. My heart beats too fast. Whatever this feeling is, it takes over, wraps around me until it’s all I know. It’s unfamiliar and consuming, but it feels good. I want to sink into it. Let it pull me under.
Xander has never pretended to be a good man. He’s made it clear he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants. Even if it means doing despicable things.
Maybe that should scare me, but it doesn’t. The lengths he’s willing to go for me stir something deep inside, something I don’t want to look too closely at.
I meet his eyes. Gray, steady, unflinching. He doesn’t hide. He lets me look, lets me see everything that’s there.
The knot inside me loosens. The one that’s been telling me to run since I saw him that day.
And suddenly, I know.
Whatever happened in that alley before I passed out. Whatever I thought I saw between him and Elliot. There’s something missing. Something I got wrong.
This man will never betray me.
“Xander, why were you with—”
“Sorry to interrupt, sir.” The driver’s voice cuts through the thick quiet. “We’re here.”
Xander doesn’t move. His focus stays on me, waiting for the rest of my question.
It sticks on my tongue, the words tangled somewhere between doubt and trust.
Noise bursts from outside. Voices. Cameras. A flash of light through the tinted glass. The door swings open, and a man in a tux steps back to let us out.
Xander gets out first, then turns to offer his hand. His palm is warm, steady against mine.
“Ask me when we get home,” he says under his breath. “Whatever it is, I’ll answer.”
He takes my hand and guides me out of the car. The second my heals hit the pavement, I’m blinded by a storm of light. Camera flashes burst from every direction, sharp enough to sting my eyes.
People shout his name. They want him to look their way, to turn that impossible attention on them.
I take a small step back, my body begging to retreat. The whispers in my head come fast, cruel and familiar. They can all see it. I don’t belong here.
My chest tightens until it hurts to breathe. The air feels too thin, the noise too much.
Then Xander’s hand presses to the small of my back. His palm covers the entire space, firm and possessive. It’s a claim, but it’s also a reminder. I’m here because he wants me here.
I breathe in slowly and steadily. Stand taller.
He bends his head close, his lips brushing my temple. “Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”
He says it quietly, but I know the truth behind it. If I told him I wanted out, he’d turn around right now and take me home without a second thought.
My body leans into him before I can stop it.
His hand shifts, taking a little more of my weight, and I swear I hear the low rumble of approval in his chest. All around us, people are calling his name, but his attention never wavers.
It’s just me. Like he’s built a wall around us that nothing can break through.
The way he looks at me burns away every doubt I had a second ago. I can’t help but smile. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
The world starts to come back into focus. The shouts grow sharper, the voices clearer. They’re asking who I am, where I came from. Laughing that he’s never brought a date before.
Xander presses a kiss to my cheek, pausing for half a second like he’s deciding whether to stop there. Then he straightens, fingers tightening at my side, pulling me flush against him.
He turns to face the crowd. The noise dips instantly, like the whole world is holding its breath.
“Let me introduce you,” he says, voice smooth and commanding.
Every camera aims our way.
“My wife,” he continues, pausing just long enough to let the word sink in. “Mrs. Dahlia Everette.”