Xavier's POV
The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over my mansion, nestled deep within my family's estate. With its gothic spires and intricate stone carvings, the mansion was more than just a home; it was a fortress of power, wealth, and secrets that ran deeper than the roots of the ancient oaks that surrounded it.
Driving my black SUV, I rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling structure, the tires crunching softly on the gravel driveway. The full moon highlighted the grandeur of the stone facade and the elegance of the manicured gardens. I stepped out of the vehicle first, my tall frame exuding an effortless authority that came as naturally as breathing.
To maintain appearances, I got out of the car and moved to the passenger side, opening the door for Danielle, my newly found mate. The gentleness of the gesture seemed out of place for a man of my stature, but it was necessary. Danielle, with her soft brown hair slightly disheveled from the long drive, looked up at me with a hesitant smile.
"Thank you, Xavier," she murmured as she stepped out, her eyes flicking nervously toward the mansion that loomed before her.
Her awkwardness didn't bother me; instead, I gave her a brief, reassuring smile before turning to the back of the SUV, where Ashley was already wrestling with her luggage. Her movements were jerky and frustrated, her usually sharp features twisted into a scowl. She yanked a heavy suitcase from the trunk, nearly toppling over with the effort, but I barely glanced in her direction.
My focus remained on Danielle, who stood awkwardly beside me, unsure of what to do with her hands. "Let me help you with your bags," I offered, stepping toward the trunk where her suitcase still sat.
Danielle quickly shook her head, her eyes wide with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. "No, it's okay, Xavier. You should help Ashley with hers first."
I paused, my icy blue eyes narrowing slightly as I glanced over at Ashley. She was still struggling, her irritation palpable as she shot daggers in our direction. It was clear she expected me to help her, to fulfill the role of the doting husband I had never truly been.
But I couldn't care less. Danielle was my mate, and I saw no reason to continue this farce of a relationship with Ashley. The only reason I had even allowed her to follow us home was to spare her further humiliation at what was supposed to be our grand wedding.
With that in mind, I ignored the expectation in Ashley's glare and turned back to Danielle. "She'll manage," I said dismissively, reaching for Danielle's suitcase.
Before I could take it, Danielle placed a gentle hand on my arm, stopping me. "Really, it's fine. I can manage too. Please just tend to her."
My brows furrowed in displeasure at her words. Danielle noticed my subtle change in emotion, yet chose to remain silent, her usual timid and fearful look returning to her flawless face. But there was determination in her eyes as well.
I studied her, a hint of admiration flickering in my gaze at her selflessness and her desire to avoid conflict. But I could sense the discomfort radiating from her, the unease of being caught between me and her stepsister.
Eventually, I nodded, but instead of moving to help Ashley like Danielle wanted, I simply stepped back. The surprise in Danielle's eyes was evident, as if she hadn't expected me to react this way. But my decision was made. I had no intention of helping Ashley to avoid any misunderstandings, no matter how minor.
"Alright, if that's what you want," I said, then turned and began walking toward the grand entrance of the mansion, expecting Danielle to follow.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her hesitate for a moment, casting a quick glance at Ashley, who was now seething, her cheeks flushed with anger and jealousy, before deciding to follow me.
A sense of satisfaction filled me as I noticed her reaction. I turned to glance at Ashley, watching as her frustration reached a boiling point as she struggled to drag her suitcase up the stone steps, while Danielle and I walked away together.
I waited until Danielle was beside me before placing my hand over her shoulder. At first, she seemed like she was about to resist, but she didn't. Instead, she allowed me to pull her closer as we walked side by side.
The sight was a knife to Ashley's pride, a blatant disregard for her presence and her struggle.
"Xavier!" Ashley called out from behind, her voice sharp and edged with fury. But I didn't even break my stride. Instead, I comforted Danielle. "It's okay. I'm sure she'll be able to handle it on her own."
Danielle glanced back at Ashley, guilt flickering across her features, but she didn't stop. The silent understanding between us was clear: Ashley would not be the one to drive a wedge between us, no matter how hard she tried.
As we reached the door, I did the honors and pushed it open, ushering Danielle inside with a warmth I reserved only for her. But my mood soured when Ashley made it up the stairs far quicker than I had expected.
Her resentment boiled over as she finally managed to haul her suitcase up the steps, but by the time she reached the door, it swung shut in her face.
Ashley stood there for a moment, her breath coming in angry bursts, her fists clenched tightly around the handle of her suitcase. She had known coming here would be a challenge, but she hadn't expected to be so completely ignored, so utterly overshadowed by Danielle.
The bitterness inside her grew, fueled by the jealousy that burned like fire in her veins. She refused to accept it, She wouldn't be sidelined like this, not by Danielle, and certainly not by me. One way or another, she would find a way to make me see her, to make me understand that she was not someone to be overlooked.
With that thought fueling her resolve, Ashley yanked open the door and stepped inside, her eyes burning with determination as she followed the sound of our voices deeper into the mansion.
***********
The moon glowed in the sky like a forgotten coin, casting its silver light over the grand hall of my mansion through my several resplendent windows.
I walked in, tired and irritable, craving nothing more than a hot shower and a decent meal right about now.
Patrick, my Servant and most trusted confidant, was already waiting by the entrance. His usual calm demeanor was noticeably shaken as he fidgeted with the cufflinks on his shirt. I could practically hear his thoughts racing, and before he could open his mouth, I knew what was coming.
"Congratulations on the—" Patrick began, his voice trailing off as his eyes locked onto something behind me. I didn't need to turn around to know what—or rather, who—had caught his attention.
Ashley, my almost-bride, was striding into the grand hall, dragging her heavy suitcase behind her like it was filled with her disappointment and anger.
I could feel the weight of Patrick's stare as he processed the sight of not one, but two women entering my mansion—neither of them looking particularly happy.
"Uh, Xavier," Patrick started, clearing his throat awkwardly, "is there a reason you brought home two wonderfully beautiful women instead of just, you know, the one you were supposed to marry?"
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Patrick, I didn't 'bring home' two women. It's not like I'm starting a collection. Let me explain before you jump to any conclusions."
Patrick's eyebrows shot up, skepticism evident in his eyes. "I'm all ears."
"Alright," I said, crossing my arms as I leaned against the marble pillar. "So, picture this: the wedding celebration is in full swing, everyone's laughing, drinking, having a good time—"
"Sounds like a party," Patrick interrupted, grinning.
"Yeah, a real blast," I deadpanned, rolling my eyes. "Except for the part where I realized that the woman I was about to marry wasn't the one."
Patrick frowned, glancing at Ashley, who was now busy giving the maids a hard time about her luggage. "Not the one? But you've been planning this wedding for months."
"Details, details," I waved off his concern. "The point is, I found my fated mate at the wedding. Danielle." I nodded in her direction, where she stood, trying her best to blend in with the wallpaper.
Patrick's mouth opened, then closed, then opened again like a fish out of water. "Wait, what? At the wedding?"
"Yes, Patrick, at the wedding," I replied with a sigh. "I wasn't exactly expecting it either, but there she was, looking like a deer caught in headlights."
"And Ashley?" Patrick asked, gesturing vaguely in her direction.
I shrugged. "Well, she was already there. It felt rude to send her packing immediately. Plus, I wasn't in the mood for a scene."
Patrick pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly trying to process everything. "So, you brought them both back here."
"Yup," I confirmed, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "And now I have to figure out how to deal with the aftermath. But first, I need a shower. The whole 'I just ruined my own wedding' vibe is not working for me."
Patrick let out a low whistle. "Xavier, you sure know how to keep things interesting."
"It's a gift," I replied with a smirk. "Now, do me a favor and prep the dining table. I'm in desperate need of a well-deserved meal after all this drama."
"Right," Patrick said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. "I'll get the table ready. You just… go do whatever it is you need to do."
"Shower," I clarified, already making my way toward the staircase. "And maybe find a way to survive dinner without getting myself killed."
Patrick chuckled, giving me a nod. "Good luck with that. You should already know by now, with that stunt you just pulled, am sure it won't be long before they come knocking on your door, seeking answers" he emphasized on the ' they ' who were a group of people I known too well.
Right now I didn't want to worry myself anymore than necessary, so, I waved him off as I headed upstairs, knowing full well that the real challenge was just beginning. But for now, all I wanted was to wash away the chaos of the day and prepare for whatever the night had in store.