Chapter 44
Xander
“If you look at graph A, you will see…”
The business representative for Vayden Group drones on.
This meeting has already gone over two hours, and our partnership was solidified long before it began.
We’ve shifted into the detail portion. Normally, I’d be tearing their proposal apart piece by piece, but a beautiful brunette has been stealing all of my attention.
My phone buzzes again, and I scroll through the notifications.
Charge: $400 - Bloomline Garden Center.
Charge: $200 - The Potted Shed Garden Center.
Charge: $30 - Hearth & Bean Cafe.
Warmth fills my chest with each one that comes in. Proof that my wife is finally spending our money.
Me:
Did you get a coffee for me?
Dahlia:
It’s common practice not to buy things for one’s stalker. Gives them the wrong impression.
The corner of my mouth tugs into a grin.
She has no idea how much of a stalker I can be.
I open the location app she added, her own possessiveness shining through, and fuck, wasn’t that hot.
She’s stopped less than ten minutes away from me.
I just need this damned meeting to end, then I can go surprise her.
And by surprise, I mean pull her into a back room and show her just how happy she makes me.
“What’s your opinion on this, Mr. Everette?”
Fuck, they’re all staring at me, eyes wide, like I’m a complete stranger.
If it were any other day and I’d caught anyone else zoning out in a meeting, I’d have their head. I’m known for meticulously picking apart each detail, but I don’t give a shit about any of this right now. The only reason I’m here is because Dahlia insisted.
I turn to Mrs. Rodriguez, who’s been spearheading this acquisition for the last two years. Her brows lift like she has no idea what’s going on for a second before tilting her head and hesitantly saying, “The data is correct. It’s what we calculated for.”
“You heard her. Let’s move on.”
Her shoulders drop as the tension leaves her like she just answered the teacher’s question correctly.
The meeting continues, and I go back and message Dhalia.
Me:
Admit it, you like it.
Dahlia:
I plead the 5th.
Several minutes pass before her reply comes through, and a rumbling chuckle escapes my lips.
Several gasps sound from around the table. Each person’s mouth opens in absolute shock as they stare at me.
“Continue.” I keep my voice flat and cold, and it settles everyone back to normal.
Me:
I have ways to make you talk.
I check her location again. This time, the small blue dot is moving down the street. She’s even closer now.
The man on my left has leaned in closer, so focused on my phone he doesn’t notice me looking at him. It’s not until I click the screen off that his gaze snaps to mine, his face going white.
“What are you looking at?”
He swallows hard and begins to stutter out his response, but my phone buzzes again, and I lose all interest in him.
Excited to see if Dahlia took my bait, I don’t bother to hide the fact that I’m not paying attention to the meeting and unlock my phone.
Multiple pictures are attached, but the brief moment of excitement at the thought of what she sent me plummets like a rock through my stomach and onto the floor as I open the first one.
The image was taken from at least thirty feet away. Dahlia smiling as she sorts through a tray of flowers. The next photo is of her smiling at Marco. The next is her carrying a tray of coffee. Nausea climbs the back of my throat with each one I open.
Unknown:
You took away what mattered to me most. Now you’ll learn how that feels.
Me:
If you fucking touch her, you’re dead.
My chair clatters to the floor with the force that I get up. There’s a vague impression of my name being called, but the noise around me has been muffled. My vision blurs around the edges, my world tunneling in. The only thing that matters is keeping Dahlia safe.
The elevator is already opening when I get there.
“Get out,” I yell at the men chatting distractedly. They scramble out of the way, and I take their place in the car. The seconds between floors feel like minutes.
My fingers tremble as I hit Dial. The phone is slick in my grip. My lungs can’t find air. Each ring drives a blade of fear deeper up my spine.
“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?”
Air rushes out of me when I finally hear Dahlia’s teasing tone. It’s okay, she’s okay, she’s okay.
“Hello? Xander?” Her laugh is so fucking sweet. “Is this some kind of butt dial?”
I cover the mic, trying to catch my breath and get my shit together. The last thing she needs me to do is terrify her unnecessarily.
“My meeting’s over. Meet me at home.” I try to sound calm. The elevator opens to the basement, and I break into a run toward my car.
“You’ll have to wait for me. I still have another store to check out,” she says, playful and stubborn.
I put her on speaker, pull up her location, and text Marco while starting the engine.
Me:
Get the fuck home now.
Marco:
On it, boss.
“Why are we turning here?” Dahlia asks Marco, then turns an accusatory tone to me. “This is because of you, isn’t it?”
“Just get home. I’ll meet you there.”
This time, my voice slips, tight with strain.
“Is something wrong, Xander? Are you okay?”
I huff. Of course she’d ask me that and not worry about herself.
“Can’t I just want to be with you?” I lie, the words uneven.
“You better not have left that meeting early just to—”
Her voice cuts off with a scream.
The sound of metal crushing metal, glass shattering, tires screeching. Then nothing.
“Dahlia. Dahlia! Dahlia, answer me.” My voice shakes, each word breaking apart as I choke them out.
The silence on the other end is deafening.
“Please. Please, Dahlia.”