48. Blood
I followed him out, from the gala- I knew that he'd go to his warehouse, so I went there prepared.
I thought of giving him a slow, pained and a very ugly way of death. Torturing him. Peeling his skin, gouging his eyes out, or maybe cutting his arms for touching my Swan.
But then, I couldn't do any of that- because I have to get back to my woman as soon as possible.
I see him, covered in blood. Begging. "Xavier.. p-please"
Asshole.
"Poor you, can't even beg for your life now." I smirk, and crouch to his level so he can see my face clearly as I speak. "You fucking know the shit I do to people when they mess with me. Now multiply that by thousand cause she's fucking mine."
"I swear I wasn't even going to-"
I grip his chin roughly, "You would ruin her career? You'd make sure she lost everything? You had men follow her home."
I remember that time, when Damon had sent a man to her house.
As a stalker.
I leave him there.
As much as I want to break him bone by bone and cut him alive- I stop myself cause i need to get back to her.
My knuckles are split and cuts along it. My fists hurt after hitting his face again and again. A bruise probably forming where Damon managed to hit- on my shoulder, my chest, and I let two punches land on my face.
For very obvious reasons.
But I've got zero fucks to give right now.
Dominic and his men will manage Damon. Dominic is after all known the best for this.
There's blood on my suit.
Not mine, for gods sake.
Dark against grey fabric.
I glance down at it once.
I feel nothing.
Dominic's men move around the warehouse behind me, efficient and silent. Orders are exchanged in low voices. Footsteps scrape against concrete. The situation is contained.
"Go," Dominic tells me when he steps up beside me. His tone isn't questioning. It's knowing. "We'll handle the rest."
He's right.
He always handles the rest.
I nod once.
Because I don't care about the rest.
I step outside into the cold Paris night and inhale deeply. The air hits my lungs sharp and clean, cutting through the metallic scent clinging to me.
And suddenly rage evaporates.
The noise fades.
The only thing left inside my chest is a hollow ache that has nothing to do with Damon.
It's her. It's always her
My hands flex at my sides. They feel wrong without her fingers threading through them. My body feels heavy without her weight leaning into me.
I don't want victory.
I don't want revenge.
I want her arms around me.
I want her soft voice telling me to calm down. I want her ridiculous habit of kissing every bruise like it personally offended her.
I miss her smile.
I want her pressing her forehead to mine and whispering, "You're safe."
Because for weeks I haven't been safe. I've been walking around like a man missing oxygen, like something vital was ripped out of my ribcage and I'm just pretending I can live without it.
I run a hand over my face, dragging in a steady breath.
All that power. All that control.
And she can undo me with a single touch.
The car door opens.
I slide inside.
"Back to the hotel?" the driver asks.
"No."
My voice comes out rough.
"Take me to her."
Now I just need my Swan. I need to feel her heartbeat under my palm and know she's real. That she's here. That I didn't imagine the way she looked at me across that ballroom.
I could dismantle men twice as powerful as Damon.
But without her? None of it means a damn thing.
And right now?
I don't want to be feared. I just want to be held.
Soooo, i'm considering creating an insta page to post reels, character edits, and story snippets! 3
lemme know if you guys would love to engage! ??