CHAPTER ONE

Confession

The numbness of tragedy plagued me. The events in the restaurant—Oscar’s suicide—and the knowledge that my life, even before Xavier Vincent, had been touched by the Society tightened my gut. My fingers tapped the dash with nervous energy. What would I tell Xavier? Would he understand? Hell, I wasn’t sure I understood.

After I arrived back at his apartment, disheveled from Oscar’s demise, Xavier had stayed by my side, but didn’t press for answers. Even as he refused to leave me alone, he respected my space, giving me time to think. Perhaps his years as a practicing neuropsychiatrist provided him better perspective on how to handle such a delicate situation. I would not have been as patient, had our roles been reversed. He suggested a change of scenery might be in order and arranged for our trip. I didn’t argue, since the getaway was as much for him as it was for me. Truth be told, everything was different now. The moment Oscar pulled the trigger, securing his legacy and handing me his seat on the Society’s governing council, he formed a sea of doubt where Xavier was concerned. Not one thing remained certain, and it was the lack of grounding that made the future harder to handle.

Leaving Marco and Sebastian behind, we’d escaped the city earlier that morning. With an entire morning of driving behind us, we’d barely managed to speak one sentence to each other; the tension thick between us. When the car left the smooth pavement of roadway, it swayed as it encountered the uneven pavers of a driveway. My bottom slid along the leather seats. Opening my eyes, I gazed upon an unfamiliar setting. I stretched my arms and yawned before asking, “What is this place?”

He reached over, squeezed my hand, and then pressed the ignition button, killing the engine. He sighed. “One of my houses.”

Again, another reminder of how much I didn’t know about him. The old, empire-style Victorian house, with rusted iron gates and crumbling brick driveway, was not Xavier’s usual style. The landscaping had been neglected, and vines climbed the exterior of the old house. “I thought you lived in the penthouse or in Paris.”

“I do, for the most part, but I own this place too. I inherited it from my adoptive parents after their death.” He paused and swallowed hard, continuing to gaze out the window at the old structure. “Even though I never got to know the Leniors well, they were always kind and accepting of me. That alone should have tipped me off that something was wrong. No one invites a murderer into their home so easily. I lived in their home with their other children for Christ’s sake. They had to have known I didn’t kill Samantha. Even when I was convinced I had.” He looked down and traced the seam of his pants with his finger.

I placed my hand on his knee and rubbed soothing circles on the black fabric of his pant leg.

He cleared his throat. The melancholy tone, given the topic, was unavoidable. “Anyway… They passed away in a horrible car accident right before Lydia and I got married. They left most of their estate to their biological children, but for some reason left me this house. I’ve never actually stayed here. I prefer the city, but Lydia loved the small town and visited here often. I’ve been trying to decide what to do with it. I have someone stop by every season to do any necessary maintenance, but I didn’t realize just how neglected it would be without someone living here. I hope the inside is comfortable enough for us. I had the caretaker stop by to tidy up yesterday, but if it’s not livable, we’ll get a hotel room.” He grasped my hand and pressed the back of it to his lips. “Come on.”

He let go of me, but I reached out and caught his wrist, clutching it. “Xavier, why are we here, of all places?”

“Because I needed to come here and…” He stared deep into my eyes. “I realized, as I thought about why you’ve yet to tell me what happened in the restaurant, that I’ve only told you stories. You’re always once removed from my experiences. Some of it is timing and there’s nothing I can do about that, but other than our brief encounter with Annie, you have yet to experience my life with me. As much as I’d love to protect you from my reactions to all the fucked up things I’m bound to discover, I can’t expect you to really love me if I keep you outside my world.”

I looked away from him.

With one finger under my chin, he forced me to meet his gaze. “I love you, Elaine. I don’t want with you what I had with Lydia. We’ve both been through so much; I want us to be our own sanctuary from it all. I can’t ask you to trust me with the truth, if I don’t return the favor.” He pressed his lips to mine in a quick kiss. “Let’s go. I’m sure there are all sorts of demons to uncage in there.”

My war with uncertainty was lost. I had to choose a side—the armies of hope and doubt stood ready for my command. Some choice. Should I trust Xavier or give credence to Oscar’s tragic message?

The underpinning of who I was had shattered along with the glass in that restaurant. It was time to be someone new. Someone who wasn’t afraid. If Xavier hadn’t recently tested my faith by pretending to hand me over to the Society, doubt wouldn’t even be a player in this game. Instead, I was forced to make a leap of faith. The moment my foot stepped onto the weathered bricks of the driveway, I pledged my fealty to hope.

Xavier grasped my hand as soon as I rounded the front of his car. He glanced around at the overgrown vegetation. “I think I’m going to have to call around for some better landscapers. It doesn’t look like they’ve been here in ages.” He took the first step onto the drab, gray porch. The wood creaked under his weight, threatening to give way. Xavier stopped and bounced on the warped boards a few times, testing to see it was safe, before reaching up to pick a chip of paint off the railing. It was almost as if he was stalling. “The last time I was here, Lydia had just found out about the cancer.” The distance in his voice was almost tangible.

I took a careful step onto the wooden slats of the porch and waited by his side as he jimmied the key into the lock. Light reflected off a pane of stained-glass lilies framed within the door—the weathered wood surrounding it adding to its beauty. The doorjamb cracked and popped under the pressure of Xavier’s shoulder as it gave way. Billows of dust shimmered in the sunlight that streamed through the window as we stepped into a large, open foyer. The stagnant, dusty scent of abandonment greeted us.

He reached for the light switch, giving it a flick. The iron chandelier accented with teardrop crystals illuminated above us. “Well…at least the utilities work.”

Under our feet, the aged hardwood floor moaned. Xavier stepped into the living room and paused. I peeked over his shoulder, following his steady gaze to the portrait of him and Lydia hanging over the fireplace.

He inhaled a shaky breath.

“You OK?” I grasped his arm.

“Yes. Just feels like I’m grieving all over again—first her death, and now the death of truth.”

“Why are we here, Xavier? Why put yourself through this?” I stroked my fingers back and forth through the smattering of hair on his forearms.

“Answers. It’s the only place I haven’t looked.” He walked across the room and picked up a small statue— two abstract figures entwined like lovers—from a dark oak bookcase. “I bought this for her on my trip to India. A local craftsman had a cart full of them just outside my hotel. I thought of her and her love of erotic art. I wondered what had come of it. She brought it here.” He scrutinized it, turning it over and over in his hand. His brow furrowed; his posture and demeanor a reflection of his sadness.

“Xavier,” I whispered.

He looked up at me and blinked a few times, fighting back the tears that formed in his eyes.

“You do know it’s OK to love her, right? Even if it’s only loving what you thought you had or who you thought she was. Regardless of the truth, those feelings were real.”

He set the figure on the shelf and took two steps toward me, wrapping me in his arms. “I don’t need a lie. I need you.” He kissed me, but it held a soft, lingering sadness.

“Maybe so, but it’s OK to feel. You don’t have to deny how you felt before me in order to love me. I’m here to help ease the past.”

He pulled back and stared into my eyes. “You know, I could say the same to you. When are you going to trust me with your feelings? Please tell me what happened, so I can share the burden. I don’t want you to suffer alone.”

I lowered my gaze to his chest, not wanting to see the look in his eyes.

He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and something in me broke. Avoidance was no longer an option.

He cupped my cheek with the palm of his hand, an expectant look on his face. “Would it help if I told you what I already know?” He pulled me tight against him.

I nodded against his chest.

He rubbed small circles on my back. “When I spoke with the police they told me that Oscar committed suicide in front of you at the table where you both were eating lunch. What I don’t know is why you were with him?” His words were soft, but it was the pain that laced each sentence that surprised me.

After a moment of hesitation, I renewed my pledge to hope. I had to tell him sometime. I cleared my throat. “I thought I was meeting Gretchen.”

His arms grew tighter around me, and he let out a deep sigh.

“I got a text message from her on my cell phone, asking to meet me for lunch. When I got there, it was Oscar.”

His breathing halted on the exhale and he whispered, “What did he want?” With my ear pressed tight to his chest, the shaky rumble in his voice was hard to miss.

“To give me information and to warn me.”

His hands trembled against my back. “Warn you about what?”

“Xavier, what’s wrong?” I leaned away from him, studying his worried features, trying to gauge his reaction. His response was unexpected. His eyes were glossy from unshed tears.

“I’ve known for almost two days that you were in a restaurant with Oscar and had no idea how that was possible without your willful participation. I had faith there’d be some plausible reason for it but couldn’t help the places my mind wandered. Had they gotten to you? Were you just another lie they were trying to feed me?” He closed his eyes and shook his head as though trying to dislodge his suspicion. When he opened his eyes to gaze at me again, the pain was tangible. “I refused to convict you without understanding, but it was killing me.” His trembling hands slid down my hips, digging his fingers into the fleshy skin. “I’m sorry. I assure you, I maintained my trust, but the scenarios that ran through my head cut me.”

I stared into his eyes, feeling mine flood with shame and embarrassment. I had been so wrapped up in his potential betrayal it never occurred to me to look at the events from his perspective. I had been certain the anguish I perceived in him was for my pain and not his own. In essence, my silence victimized us both. But doubt was not quite ready to surrender. He brought you to a secluded place. He told the council he’d do anything for a seat among them. Oscar said he’d kill you.

I closed my eyes for a second, summoning the same trust he spoke of, and tried to suppress doubt’s whispering voice. “Oscar wanted to tell me that Charles had claimed me as his subject and my father was manipulated by Victoria.” I searched his eyes, wanting to assess any change with my next revelation. “He also mentioned that with Charles’s death I will be granted an uncontestable seat on the council, putting me in line before you. Oscar’s suicide was a power play to keep you off the council and secure his legacy. He thinks you’ll side with Victoria and ruin everything Lydia worked for.” I tensed and tried to back out of his embrace when his eyes narrowed with anger.

His grip on my hips grew painful. Any threat of tears was gone and fury burned in its place. “What?” The word was harsh, commanding.

“Xavier, please…” I pleaded, shifting uncomfortably in his tightening grasp. “The scar on my wrist was given to me by Charles.”

“That’s impossible. I’ve already told you that.” His voice rang cold and distant.

I wiggled free of his hold and took one step backward. “His original plan was to kill me to get back at Victoria. Cripple my father with grief, so he couldn’t carry out her master plan. Victoria created the monster in my father. He was her subject. At the last minute, Charles decided claiming me as his subject might infuriate her even more. Why kill me when he could torture me? Grief would eventually heal, but my misery could last a lifetime. Before he could do anything terrible to me, Lydia killed him.” I rubbed the lingering soreness in my arms while I allowed my explanation to sink in.

His intense glare brought back all of the uncertainty. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his side. His jaw tightened.

I inched away some more. “You know how they are about their rules. Since Charles gave control of you to Lydia, you are officially Lydia’s subject in the hierarchy. With Oscar’s death, I’m the only living subject that belongs to Charles. Since I was influenced and not willing, he didn’t need to present me to the council. According to Oscar, that leaves me the heir to the council seat. I can only speculate that they are careful to always have a willing subject on hand to prevent just this turn of events from happening, but Oscar didn’t want the bother of grooming someone, and he saw you as a threat.”

I crossed my arms over my chest. I wanted to trust him, but self-preservation urged me toward the door. If he did really want that council seat after all, now would be the moment to prove it.

With disbelief and anger hardening his features, he took another step toward me. “And you believe him?”

“I don’t want to.” I eased back more with his approach.

Another pace closer. Through gritted teeth he said, “That’s not a ‘no.’”

I swallowed hard, continuing my calculated escape toward the door. “Oscar said you’d kill me for it. You’re not the only one juggling thoughts of betrayal.”

A rumble of frustration shook his chest. “He said what? He told you I’d kill you?” He snarled the words. “That son of a bitch.” His fierce demeanor sent chills down my spine.

I stumbled with my next backward step and re-crossed my arms over my chest.

“I hate them—every last fucking one of them. Elaine…” A growl left his chest, and his focus honed in on me like a predator stalking prey.

I reached behind me and grasped the door handle. I had seen elated, crazy, confused, and broken Xavier, but the one before me was truly frightening.

Fumbling with the handle behind my back, I tried to open the door, but I was in the way. It mattered little since Xavier crushed his body against mine, killing any progress I’d made. His familiar heat magnified my anxiety, caused by confusion that pit the man I needed him to be against the one he might be.

“Xavier, please…don’t. I assure you, I don’t want any of this. You can have it.” I felt tears threaten. The possibility of a happy ending seemed more unlikely with each passing moment.

He pinned me, the doorknob pressing into my back, forcing my surrender.

“Xavier, please. I love you. Don’t do this,” I begged on a whisper. My heart pounded in my chest, breath escaping in rapid bursts. Was this it? Had I been wrong? Had my leap of faith been suicide? I no longer cared. I didn’t have the will to fight.

His arms snaked around me like a vise, melding me to his lean body; his power evident as I hung limp in his arms. He dragged us downward against the wall until we both were seated on the floor. Drunk from crushing numbness, I no longer cared what happened. I just wanted the uncertainty to end.

He squeezed me tighter and whispered in my ear, “There are many reasons they deserve my anger—my childhood, Lydia, and so much more. But to try to take you from me…to drive a wedge between us…to make you doubt me, fear me…” A low growl rumbled in his throat.

“Not one of them will be left standing.” He crushed his mouth against mine, brutally denying any chance for response. His fingers laced through my hair and closed into a fist, locking my head in place, rendering me both speechless and breathless.

Elation overcame me and surfaced as a breathy sigh. With the relief that his anger wasn’t for me, tears escaped to flow down my cheeks. I had bet on hope and emerged the victor, but the pain emanating from him overshadowed my respite.

Shifting, he extended his legs and pulled me into his lap. He peppered kisses along my jaw and whispered, “Never doubt me. You can run that goddamn Society and you would still have no reason to doubt me. I would never hurt you, let alone try to kill you. My loyalty, Elaine, is absolute.” He gripped my shoulders and stared into my eyes with intensity beyond that of even the past few minutes. “We’re going to crush them. Together, we’re going to make them pay for everything they have ever done to us.” His mouth closed over mine, frantic and needy as his fingers undid the button on my jeans and lowered the zipper. He breathed against my lips, “Please, Elaine, I need to feel you. Let me show you you’re still mine. Please.” Hooking his finger in the waistband of my jeans and panties, he started to lower them over my hips.

This was Xavier’s comfort. Something he never shared with anyone else. It was ours. I stood, kicked off my shoes, and toed off my socks.

He slid the garments down my thighs, placing kisses on my stomach and mound. His hands fumbled with his own pants.

Still drunk from the adrenaline high caused by fear, I watched as he undressed from the waist down—his cock straining as he extended a hand to me, leading me to the stairs. Urging me to sit, with his hands on my knees, he spread my legs, exposing me to him.

The familiar hunger in his eyes lessened my trepidation and I eased back, my bottom resting on one stair, my elbows on another.

He brushed his fingers over my sex before grasping his cock and placing it at my entrance. His gaze locked with mine.

I welcomed him, biting my lip. With the doubt gone and only his love for me left, I wanted this as much as he did. Not the lust but the connection.

He eased into me, bracing his arms on the stair behind my head.

I inhaled a sharp breath at the feel of him inside me.

“I love you, Elaine.” He buried his face against my neck. “That’s not a phrase I throw around often. When I say it, I mean it. My love means you have my heart, my devotion, respect, and affection. Please don’t ever doubt me.” His lips latched onto my throat, moving with gentle caresses.

“I won’t, ever again.” Suspicion had almost ripped us apart, but he was my only ally in this war and I was his. When all was said and done, our love would be the spoils.

His soft sighs against my skin comforted each time he slid into me. The scent unique to him filled my nostrils and grounded me in so many ways. He was my anchor now. We had come so far in such a short period of time—forged into one by chaos.

I closed my eyes and savored his warmth, the feel of his stubble on my neck and the heavy breaths that escaped his lips. Relief engulfed me with each touch, sigh, and thrust. I didn’t appreciate how much the doubt weighed on me until it was gone.

“I haven’t been able to breathe for the past few days. It scares me how much I need you.” He groaned.

I placed my lips on the soft spot under his chin and kissed a path to his ear. “Xavier, you can’t need something you already have. So, there’s no need to be frightened.”

“Oh, Elaine.”

His mouth mashed against mine while his thrusts grew frantic.

I wanted to give him pleasure more than my next breath. “I love you, Xavier. I always will.”

I closed my eyes, savoring his passion. Every press of his body into mine brought me closer.

“Elaine, do you feel how much I love you?”

“Yes,” I moaned.

His words and warmth brought me to the edge of it all. “Give me your love, Elaine. Show me.”

With his request, I fell. My back arched and legs stiffened, bracing against the banister.

He breathed against my lips. “That’s it, my queen. Surrender.” My climax was all the encouragement he needed. His pelvis slammed against mine as he spilled inside me, cock pulsing, breathing heavy at my ear.

He wrapped his arms around me, lifting, and slid us once again to the floor. I sat on his lap, and with his trembling arms encircling my waist, he sighed.

“Xavier?”

“Yes, my queen?”

“Oscar said things are rarely the work of fate. When you consider how much influence they’ve had on our lives, what if our meeting was just another one of their games? What if you weren’t at the conference in Kansas City by accident? Our meeting—nothing but a careful orchestration intended for their amusement? What if none of this is a coincidence, including you and I?”

He kissed my forehead. “Then it will have been the biggest mistake they’ve ever made, because together, we will be their undoing.”

I couldn’t help but think… exactly as Lydia would have wanted.