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It would be so like him, wouldn’t it? To manipulate, to control. That’s the man I was warned about, the man I thought he was behind the loving gaze and the gentle touches.
Yet, as he leads me gently through the sterile corridors towards the treatment room, his concern evident in every line of his body, I can’t help but question my own judgment.
Is it possible I’m wrong? That the love I’ve felt from him, the connection that’s seemed so real, is nothing but a well-crafted lie?
In the privacy of the examination room, with the clinical coldness enveloping us, Xavier’s steady presence is both a comfort and a curse.
His hand rests lightly on my shoulder, grounding, yet it’s a reminder of the power he holds, the power I fear.
And when he finally senses something amiss, asking once more if I’m okay, I plaster on a fake smile, a mask of normalcy.
“It’s nothing,” I assure him whenever he asks, my voice betraying none of the turmoil inside. The pathetic cowardice of my evasion tastes like bile. I should confront him, demand the truth, but the fear of his potential response paralyzes me.
Could the man who has shown me nothing but love and protection really be the monster my father claims? The internal battle rages, leaving me exhausted, emotionally battered.
I’m trapped in a limbo of my own making, too scared to seek the truth, too in love to let go without a fight. Do I let him go to his death or tell him not to go, risk him demanding to know why he shouldn’t?
When the doctor tells me I’m free to leave, I want to stay. Anything to stop this ball from rolling. But I have to return to the villa sooner or later.
During the drive back, I don’t say a word. Xavier glances at me, as if he feels like he should say something. But then he looks away, leaving me to my thoughts.
Xavier’s POV
The next morning…
Lucas and Matteo stand a discreet distance away, their postures relaxed but alert, waiting for my command. The tension in the room is palpable. Jane glares at me as I pack the last of my things.
“I’m coming with you,” she asserts, her voice cutting through the silent standoff between us.
“No, you’re not,” I reply, the edge in my voice sharper than I intend. Lucas and Matteo shift uncomfortably, sensing a change in the air.
Jane’s eyes flick to the guards and then back to me. “You’re different with them around. Colder,” she observes, her voice tinged with disappointment. “Ashamed to show emotion in front of your men, is that it?”
I glance at Lucas and Matteo, their expressions carefully neutral, yet I know they catch every nuance of our exchanges.
“This isn’t a discussion, Jane. It’s too dangerous, and that’s the end of it,” I state, my tone final, the boss speaking now, not just the man who loves her. “You’ve tried to tell me to stay here but you won’t say why. You are not in charge of my life. You don’t get to give me orders.”
She crosses her arms, her defiance clear. “I thought we were partners in this. Equals, remember?”
The reminder stings, echoing my own fears about becoming like my father, controlling and unyielding. “It’s not about equality. It’s about your safety. You know what’s at stake,” I counter, struggling to keep my voice even, to not let the worry bleed through.
She steps closer, her gaze softening as she looks up at me. “Leaving me behind won’t keep me safe. It’ll just leave me worried and alone. You’re going to face Garibaldi alone. You could die.”
I sigh, the cold façade crumbling a bit at her words. “I can’t put you in danger, Jane. I won’t.”
Her gaze hardens. “But you’re willing to put yourself in danger?”
“It’s different. I know how to handle the son of a bitch,” I say, though the assurance feels hollow even to me.
“So take some men with you when you meet up. Be safe, for my sake.”
I shake my head. “I do the planning for my life, Jane, not you.”
She scowls at me, the frustration evident. “And what if you don’t come back? What then?”
The question hangs between us, a stark reminder of the risks I’m taking. Before I can respond, she continues, softer now, “I just want to be there with you, please.”
I shake my head. “Not happening.”
“You’re acting just like him, you know,” she says abruptly, her voice laced with bitterness. “My father. Making decisions for me, thinking you know what’s best, lying to me.”
I flinch at the comparison, feeling the sting of her words like a physical blow. “I’m not lying to you, Jane.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me my father’s been to see Garibaldi?”
The surprise must show on my face because she smiles coldly at me. “Emma told me. Said Tony had told you. How dare you keep that from me.”
“I’m trying to protect you,” I defend, but my voice sounds hollow even to my ears.
“By controlling me?” Her challenge is a mirror to my deepest fear—that I am indeed becoming the man I vowed never to be. “By leaving me in the dark? How is that protection, Xavier? How?”
I turn to her, the frustration and fear battling within me. “Because the world we’re up against, it’s cruel and unforgiving. I’ve seen what it does to people who aren’t prepared for it. I won’t let that happen to you.”
Jane’s eyes, usually so full of warmth and understanding, now hold a spark of defiance. “And what about what I want? Don’t I get a say in my own life? Who do you really want, Xavier? Tell me that at least. Is it me, or my father?”
“I want you. That’s why you have to stay here where it’s safe.”