Chapter 5
Chapter Five
JAXON/JAX
Then
Bloody Velvet & Razor Blades
The more you want someone, the more carefully you try not to touch them.
Istare into Livianna’s sky-blue, pleading eyes and want to decline, but my heart is saying otherwise. “Yes, I’ll help you. Why don’t we schedule something to discuss the mentorship program sometime in the next couple of weeks?”
Saying yes to her isn’t just professional. It’s personal. And dangerous.
But I offer her a version of my answer we can both live with. Not the one burning just beneath my skin.
Since the last time I saw her, she’s somehow become even more beautiful.
“Can I get in on this deal?” Trent stops his backward walk and steps toward me. “My dad doesn’t support my career decisions. He wanted me to go into his luxury real estate business and follow in his footsteps. I’m doing this all on my own.”
There’s a rawness in his tone, the kind I’ve heard before—young creatives carving out their futures without a safety net. It’s a mild form of panic.
I nod, masking the flash of recognition in my chest. I can’t say no to him, or my acceptance of Livianna’s request may seem suspicious.
“Of course, Trent.” I motion for us to continue to Livianna’s apartment. “I’m always willing to work with those who chase their dreams.”
Trent and Livianna surround me, pulling me into a group hug. When they wrap their arms around me—her perfume, his laughter, and their shared joy—I go rigid, then melt into it for one unguarded second.
Kisses land on my cheeks, and I can’t help but push them away even as I smile inside. This is the feeling I want to have when I mentor people on the rise.
For a moment, I’m just Jaxon, a man they believe can help them with all their goals. And that might be more intoxicating than power.
We continue to Livianna’s place. The three of us climb the narrow staircase to her door, footsteps echoing against timeworn stone steps. Livianna’s heels click like punctuation on a seductive poem I haven’t dared to read yet.
The truth is, I haven’t stopped thinking about her since she left for a funeral back in the States. Did she move to Paris to find me? If so, why does it hit like a fucking claim on my soul?
We’re almost at her apartment, and I can’t keep my eyes off her. She doesn’t look back, but I swear she knows I’m watching her. Don’t ask how. I just do.
She pulls her keys from her coat. Her hand trembles just slightly as she unlocks the door. I notice. I always notice her subtle movements.
Is she afraid I’ll see something in her tonight? Or am I the one afraid she’ll see through me? Like my forbidden, growing attraction to her.
“Don’t judge the mess.” She pushes the door open. “I was in a creative flow last night and have material and sketches thrown everywhere.”
“It must have been the full moon because I was the same way.” Trent brushes past her and enters.
I dip my chin for her to go first. “I’ve never heard that the moon can be a portal to creativity.”
She slips in before me. “Really? You’re the one who told me about meditation. Millions of people use full moon meditations to tune into all parts of themselves.”
“Well, when you say it like that…” I follow her in. “It’s just not something I pay attention to.”
“You’re missing out.” She places her belongings on the counter separating the kitchen from the main area. “Everyone could benefit from working with the moon’s rhythm.”
“Meditation, rituals, and flow.” A grin curls my lips. “You seem to be in a better state of mind than the last couple of times I’ve spent with you.”
She peeks up at me. “I’d like to think I’ve made some strides in that area, but I’m not perfect. I still mess up more than I’d like to admit.”
“We all do, my special little boo.” Trent rushes through the living space and throws his computer bag on her couch. “Pour me a glass of wine while I use your bathroom.”
“Red or white?” She unbuttons her coat.
“You decide,” he hollers as he closes the door.
“Let me help you with that.” I remove her jacket from her shoulders.
She shimmies out of it. “Thanks.”
She turns around and puts her hand out. As I do, I notice her wrists are almost weeping with blood, scratched like a cat attacked her, or like she took a razor blade to herself. My stomach drops, and I hesitate to move.
She must see where I’m staring because she shoves her crimson velvet sleeve down to cover it. My concerned gaze travels to her face.
“It’s nothing, Jax.”
I toss her coat onto the couch, take her hand in mine, and flip her wrist up. I make soft circular motions right below the wounds.
“These cuts aren’t nothing, Livianna. They’re a cry for help.” I keep my tone free of judgment. “Is there anything I can do?”
“No, really... It was just a bad moment I had today. I guess you could say it was a minor relapse. I haven’t done this in a long time.” She swallows as she blinks away something that resembles deep emotional pain. “I know better than to read the tabloids.”
“Ah, I see. Someone printed lies about…?” I shake my head. “Whatever it was, you can share if you want.”
There’s a moment of silence as she studies my face. She glances at the gentle circles I’m tracing and pulls her hand away. The moment of tenderness fades away.
“My brother had a podcast interview, and it didn’t go well.” She strides into the kitchen. “Can I get you a glass of wine?”
I let her deflection go for now. “Sure. What do you have?”
“It’s cold, so red is what I’m in the mood for. Does that sound good?”
“It sounds perfect.” I run a curious eye over her. “When I took care of you on that New Year’s Eve, you had the same type of cuts. You mentioned some kind of problem with your brother that night. Is your relationship with him the cause of your worries?”
“No.” She removes a wine bottle from a small iron wine rack she has against the wall. “He just gets put in challenging situations, and somehow they always revolve around me.”
“Why is that?”
She sucks in a choppy breath. “The media has never liked me.”
“Livianna?”
She brings her sad eyes to mine.
I offer a gentle gaze and advance to her side. “Is there anything I can do to help you in this moment?”
She takes a few beats, and her stance softens. “Yeah, I could use a hug.”
I don’t think twice about giving her what she needs. I slide one arm around her waist, the other around her shoulders, and pull her into me.
She melts into my chest as I hold her in a firm but warm embrace. For the first time since I’ve known her, I let my defenses disappear and really be there for her.
“Thank you.” She squeezes me tighter. “I don’t know why, but I always feel safe around you. There aren’t many people I can say that about.”
Heat erupts in my heart and races through my veins. My stomach twists with an unexpected yearning for more.
What is this strange emotion?
I enjoy women’s company, but I’ve never wanted or felt the need to get closer to them on an emotional level. It’s always been a physical thing for me because it can’t be anything more.
My life isn’t conducive to developing and nurturing a relationship the way it needs to grow. I have too many people and secrets I need to protect. It’s not fair to ask a woman to deal with that. Partners deserve more.
Trent rounds the corner and catches my eye. He smirks and gives me a nod of approval.
“I see things are moving in the right direction.” He stops on the other side of the counter. “I would try to get in on the action, but I won’t press my luck.”
“It’s not what it looks like, Trent.” Livianna steps out of my arms, removes her shoes, and leaves them on a mat near the front door. “Jaxon was just being a good friend.”
I’m a bit shocked by the softness in her answer. Most of the time she tries to flirt and make me squirm when we’re around each other. This time is different. She’s more vulnerable, more mature, more…everything. And I like it more than I’d like to admit.
“I thought you would already have the Cab and cheese tray out for us.” Trent settles onto a stool and turns to me. “Livianna is a great host, and she knows how to cook. She’s a keeper.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to sell me, Trent.” Livianna grabs an electric wine opener, uncorks the bottle, and pours us all a glass. She hands them out. “But it’s true. I like to host friends at my house, but only those I am comfortable with.”
“Then I feel quite honored.” I swirl the Cabernet Sauvignon and take a whiff of the notes. Black currant and caramel stand out, and I savor the first sip.
“And I’m grateful you’re both here to enjoy the night with me.” She blushes and stares into my eyes.
“Wonderful choice.” I dip my chin in appreciation.
Livianna smiles. “Thanks. I can’t say I know much about wine. That was my mom’s gift.”
“It’s delicious.” Trent moves to the couch and pats the seat next to him.
Livianna takes the cue and snuggles into his side. My stomach tightens.
Are they together romantically?
Trent has made some offbeat comments, but I instinctively took them as playful ribbing and flirtation. Maybe I’m reading their relationship all wrong and letting my emotions cloud my judgment.
I tilt my head toward the two of them. “So, how exactly do you two know each other?”
“We met in our advanced luxury design class.” Livianna takes a sip of her wine and places it on the coffee table. “We took one look at each other and just knew we were meant to be.”
“Two peas in a pod.” Trent slides his arm around her shoulders. “Even our taste in materials and line work is similar.”
Together, they say with a laugh, “Fate.”
Fate. The word hits like a slow-drip toxin. I introduced her to exploring the idea, and now she shares it with him.
Just how deep is their connection?
I try to relax my tense jaw. “You said your dad is in real estate, Trent. Did your fathers ever do business together?”
His expression grows serious. “Actually, no. I can see where you might think Livianna and I knew each other before, but we didn’t connect through them.”
“We found out after the fact that both our dads are real estate titans, just in different circles.” Livianna places her palm on his thigh. “It was pure coincidence.”
I recline just enough to study them. Two heirs of competing real estate empires randomly crossing paths in Paris? Not likely.
Some connections are coincidental. Some are cosmic. And some are engineered by men like me with too much to lose and far too many secrets to keep.
Livianna and Trent’s connection could be fate. Or maybe it’s something more dangerous. I’m going to need to call Greg Hemings to discuss the issue.
There’s no way I’m getting involved in a new war I’m unaware of. The problem is, I don’t know how to broach the subject without putting myself at risk. Trent breaks into my thoughts.
“The only thing we had in common regarding real estate was that one of my dad’s rival developers was Livianna’s dad’s adversary, too.” Trent peers down at her. “That’s over, though.”
I think I know why the rivalries are over, but I need to make sure.
My breath shallows. “Why is that?”
“Their competition’s entire executive team was in a plane crash near Aspen and all died.” She reaches for her glass. “The business was broken up and sold off to the highest bidders. I’m pretty sure my dad bought some of their assets.”
“And I know mine did.” Trent shrugs. “That crash shook up the industry.”
My mind flashes to a news headline that once tried to expose too much: “Private Jet Carrying Halvorsen Execs Down Near Aspen—Seven Dead.”
“Small world,” I murmur as my spine stiffens. “Almost too small sometimes.”
They just confirmed what I was concerned about. That accident was planned. I know what actually happened and the silence I swore to keep. That story needs to stay buried.
I shift in my seat, steering the conversation hard left. “Anyway, I’m sure your fashion designs are a far better legacy than land battles.”
“I’d like to believe so.” Livianna narrows her gaze on me. “What about your family, Jaxon? Tell us more about yourself.”
Another topic I need to stay far away from. Nothing tonight is going as I hoped it would when I ran into her.
I envisioned drinks, laughter, and getting to know her better while relaxing after walking away from a major investment without chaos ensuing. It appears my luck has taken a turn for the worse.
“Let’s just say I inherited more than real estate.
” I grow a disarming smile. “Crowne Ventures is involved in a lot of sectors. I tend to focus more on building what’s next, not what’s already standing.
Think startups, deep tech, clean energy, high technology healing modalities, and adaptive fashion… anything with teeth and trajectory.”
Trent whistles. “Damn. You don’t sleep, do you?”
“I delegate sleep.” I take a slow drink of wine as Livianna and Trent snicker at my response.
This evening started well and good, but it’s swinging in the wrong direction. Like everything else we’ve discussed tonight, my work is not something I talk about with those who don’t have massive security clearance.
And now I have another worry to consider about Livianna. Is she in any kind of danger? What if there’s more than meets the eye going on between these two?
It’s the last question that cuts deep. They think meeting one another was fate. But fate doesn’t leave black boxes buried in the snow and survivors with blood on their hands.