**** Danielle's POV ****
The morning arrived far earlier than I had expected. I had tossed and turned all night, unable to find any semblance of sleep, my mind replaying the events from the previous evening. Ashley's words remained in my thoughts, but they were gradually being overshadowed by the memory of how Xavier had defended me. His support was a small, but significant, bright spot in the event of last night.
As the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the thin curtains of my room, I bolted upright in bed. I glanced around in a haze, an inkling of sleep clinging to my eyes, and quickly threw off my covers. I needed to start prepping the place before anyone woke up. With a sense of determination, I rushed to my suitcase, rummaging through it until I found a dress that seemed appropriate for the day. I had to get ready and out of here before anyone else woke up.
While I was in the midst of changing into the dress, my phone buzzed with a notification. Startled, I paused and quickly pulled on the garment. I made my way to the dresser, grabbed the phone, and slipped it into the pocket of my dress, eager to check the message later. My mind was already preoccupied with more immediate concerns.
I glanced around the room, searching for my slippers, and finally spotted them tucked away in the corner near my bed. I slipped them on and made my way to the door. After stepping out, I made sure to lock it behind me, just in case Ashley decided to cause any more trouble.
I hastened through the vast corridors, my steps echoing against the marble floors as I searched for the kitchen. In my haste to leave my room, I had neglected to familiarize myself with the layout of Xavier's mansion—though "mansion" seemed an understatement for this sprawling estate. The sheer size of the place was both awe-inspiring and disorienting.
As I wandered through the labyrinth of opulent hallways and tastefully decorated rooms, a creeping sense of panic began to take hold. The house was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that seemed almost tangible, amplifying every creak of the floorboards and rustle of my movements. It felt as if I were the only person awake in the entire mansion, and the isolation only deepened my unease.
Suddenly, I heard my name cut through the silence. "Danielle." The voice was hoarse but unmistakable, and it jolted me abruptly that I let out a small scream of surprise. My heart raced, and I instinctively placed a hand over my chest, trying to steady my breathing and calm the rapid thumping of my heart.
When I turned around to identify the source of the voice, I was met with the sight of Xavier. He stood there in his morning attire—or lack thereof. He wore shorts that hung low on his hips, revealing all his morning glory, and the outline of his well-defined abs was clearly visible, forming a V-shape that drew my eyes. If I hadn't been so startled, I might have been able to fully appreciate the image before me. As it was, the panic and his appearance combined to create a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. Xavier looked like a work of art, and for a moment, I was completely mesmerized and struggling to keep my composure.
"What are you doing out here?" Xavier's voice broke through my thoughts as my phone dinged once more. I fumbled with my hand, pushing it into the pocket of my dress to retrieve the phone. Curiosity and a growing sense of dread mixed as I wondered why the notifications were coming in so quickly. I have never been one to receive messages from people. No one really cared enough to text me.
As I glanced at the screen, the words jumped out at me: "How could you do this to Ashley?" followed by another message: "You vile little thing." My heart sank as I recognized the sender—Charis, an old friend whose harsh words cut deeper than I had expected. My mind raced with confusion and guilt. What had I done?
"Danielle." Xavier's voice pulled me back to the present, his tone tinged with concern. "You haven't answered my question."
I looked up from my phone, struggling to push the messages out of my mind. "I was just looking for the kitchen," I said, my voice wavering slightly. "I wanted to clean up and cook something before everyone woke up."
Xavier's expression shifted, a look of amusement softening his features. "You don't have to do that here," he said gently. I nodded, feeling a wave of embarrassment and relief wash over me. My phone continued to buzz insistently in my hand, drawing Xavier's attention.
"What's that?" he asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed the flurry of activity on my phone.
I looked down at the screen, my face pale as the messages continued to flood in. Each one was more brutal than the last, with people I knew telling me that I should end my life. The words were harsh and unrelenting, each message a new assault on my already fragile state.
"Danielle, if there's something wrong, tell me. What's going on?" Xavier's voice was filled with genuine concern as he stepped closer, his gaze intense. I could feel a lump forming in my throat, and tears began to pool in my eyes, threatening to spill over.
"Danielle." His voice was softer now, more insistent.
"I'm so sorry," I choked out, unable to hold back the tears any longer. Overcome with a sudden wave of vulnerability, I turned and walked quickly back to my room. I didn't want Xavier to see me like this, to see how weak i was.
I felt a gentle yet firm hand rest on my shoulder, halting me from taking another step. The touch was unexpected, and I turned around to find Xavier standing behind me. There was a noticeable softness in his eyes, a contrast to the darkness I've seen.
"Danielle," he said, his voice steady and reassuring. "When something is wrong, you come and talk to me. You don't run away. That should be our number one rule."
I looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity of his words. "Okay," I replied quietly, the single word feeling both like a relief and a promise.
Xavier continued to gaze at me, his expression one of calm determination. "So now, tell me, what's wrong?" His tone was gentle but insistent, encouraging me to open up.
I glanced down at my phone, still buzzing with relentless notifications. "I've been receiving messages. Hate messages. They're all over my social media and everything," I muttered slowly, struggling to keep my voice steady and to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.
Xavier's expression hardened with resolve. "I'll sort it out," he said confidently. For a moment, I thought I detected a hint of pride in his voice, though I wasn't sure if it was genuine or a trick of my anxious mind. "As my mate, you should stand with pride and not let those fickle things bring you down."
"It's– it's just hurtful," I said, my voice barely a whisper, unable to mask the pain I felt.
"That's why you're here—with me," Xavier said, his tone soothing. "Don't worry about all that nonsense. My guys will handle it." I nodded, hoping that his assurance would hold true, though I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that this might be just the beginning, especially with Ashley involved.
Xavier tried to shift the mood with a more casual tone. "You mentioned something about breakfast. Let's go get some. I'm hungry. Aren't you?"
I nodded, a small smile touching my lips despite the lingering heaviness in my heart. "Okay, let's get something to eat. I was thinking of Rice Bowls."
Xavier raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Well, I'm thinking toast."
I brightened a little, eager to share a bit of practical advice. "It's better to have whole foods for breakfast rather than snack-like food. They fill you up longer and give you more sustained energy throughout the day."
Xavier's eyes twinkled with appreciation for the small piece of wisdom. "Alright, then. Whole foods it is. Let's go find something to eat." As we walked toward the kitchen, I felt a lot better than I was feeling.
"Next time, you can just tell me what you need and I'll get someone to make it. You really don't need to be doing anything." He said as he led me to the kitchen. He stopped in front of a door and held it open for me. I curtsied, causing him to chuckle, before walking into the kitchen. Everywhere looked spotless– like it was polished every morning. There was a man dressed as a chef, seated by the island, looking like he had been waiting– probably for Xavier to arrive.