Chapter 6

FLASHBACK

The soft amber light casted elongated shadows across the table where Xander sat. His fingers moved slowly, absentmindedly circling the rim of his glass, with the faint clinking of crystal barely audible over the distant murmur of voices.

The whisky shimmered, trembling gently within the curved glass.

Xander's mind was elsewhere, wandered, unbidden, back into a past he’d tried to bury.

Lifting the glass to his lips, he drained the half measure in one swift gulp which ignited a sharp burn in his throat.

"Hey, Xander, slow down." David's voice interjected with a mix of concern and irritation. "That's insane. Are you trying to kill yourself before you even see your family?"

"Family..."Xander snorted, the sound laced with bitterness and set the empty glass down with a muted thud.

The drink was already taking its toll. He may have been relentless, calculating, and stubborn, but being a good drinker was not among his qualities.

Soon, his head started to spin and with it came the ghosts of his past.

The voices in his head were his own, but of a younger and more fragile self, begging for mercy. 17 years had not dulled the pain. It was still sharp enough to drain him dry.

Xander's jaw tightened until it ached. His eyes burned red—not from the alcohol, but from the rage that lived in him like an old wound.

He reached for the whisky again but David’s hand was faster, sliding the glass out of reach.

“Give it back,” Xander demanded, his voice low.

“You’re already drunk,” David replied evenly, "don't push yourself too much..."

“Then find someone to keep me company tonight."

David blinked, not sure he’d heard right.

“What? An escort?” He half-laughed, but there was no real humor in it.

“I'm serious.”

David was taken aback. In their four years of friendship, and working as his spy, he had never seen Xander show any interest in women, not even the ones who went out of their way to get his attention.

He repelled them without effort. And now, he wanted to pay for company?

David carefully observed him with a mixture of shock and confusion. Then he saw past the words. His friend wasn’t looking for pleasure—he was craving distraction.

David sighed with frustration as he glanced at Xander in the rearview mirror when he sat in the driver's seat of the car.

“Alright. " David said, "I’ll make some calls and secure the very best for you, even though I know you will regret it later."

Xander responded with a sublet smile and they drove off.

When they arrived at the hotel, the receptionist’s polite smile turned apologetic.

“I’m terribly sorry, sir, but your reservation has been cancelled. The owners are holding a private event tonight; no guests can be admitted,” she explained.

“Cancelled? Did you realize we've been staying here for two nights already?"

“Yes, sir, I apologize, but I’m just follo...”

“Get me the manager!”David’s eyes narrowed with annoyance. He rubbed his temple in frustration.

“Mr David Hart, you’re with Michelle Empire,” he said carefully.

“Good you know,” David replied, the moment the manager was in view, “Why are we not allowed to enter our suite?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Hart, but I have strict orders from Mr. Tony Richards...”

“Do the Richardsons want to risk losing a prominent investor like Michelle Empire?” David cut in annoyed.

“Sir...” The manager tensed in hesitated.

“Come with me.” David's voice resonated, straight and cold and he led the manager to the car.

Xander was slumping in the passenger seat, his eyes half-closed but clearly alert when they flicked toward the manager.

"Sir, he is..." his voice trailed off as David shoved Xander’s identification in his face.

“My sincerest apologies, sir. There appears to have been a misunderstanding.” the manager’s demeanor shifted from guarded to respectful, “Please accept our deepest regrets for the inconvenience. The suite will be prepared at once.”

"Quick and get Jacob Mitchell's grandson settled. And make sure no one get to know we disobey the boss's orders or we loose our job!" he whispered to the receptionist.

A short while later, the manger aided David in reclining Xander on the sofa in a suite, vanishing from sight the minute his job was done.

"Stay here, Xander. I’ll bring you someone tonight.”

Xander merely waved him off, already sinking comfortably into the sofa.

---

“…Tatiana…”

David had just reached the elevator when he thought he heard a voice—faint, echoing down the hallway.

He turned, scanning the corridor but it was empty. He shook his head and stepped inside the elevator.

Tatiana was anxiously turning every door knob but all were locked until she got to Xander's suite.

With a single turn, the door opened.

She didn't hesitate and entered, locking the door behind her.

Xander sat forward, blinking at Tatiana framed by the doorway light for a moment before stepping into the gloom—short, glittering skirt clinging to her hips, cropped top revealing a strip of toned stomach, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders.

That dress was a change to escape her uncle. But was successful in painting an image-an escort.

A slow, crooked smirk formed on Xander lips. His thoughts had already run wild— David had sent her as he promised.

“You are finally here..."

Tatiana barely noticed Xander until he walked closer and pulled making her body collided with his unyielding solidity of muscle beneath the white silky cloth.

A gasp tore from her lips, her hands searched for balance and landed on hard planes — chest, ribs, the subtle movement of breath.

"What… no one told you I hate being kept waiting?"

Xander's voice was gravel wrapped in silk, threaded with the low drawl of someone halfway to drunk.

“I… I’m not— who...”

Tatiana tried to resist but the words got caught in her throat under Xander's breath that warm against her cheek when he leaned in.

His breath and hand that felt her close where soothing her inner beings from the anguish the drug was emitting.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew she had seconds before she lost whatever grip she still had on reality. Seconds before the drug would make every choice for her.

“I'm... I'm Tiana. I'm not—” she began, but his face was already close, his breath mingling with hers.

“Nice name,” he said, almost absently. “But it’s not needed.” For an escort, he doesn't need to remember her.

It was a moment of hunger and need—his loneliness was clawing for solace.

Xander's voice trailed off as he leaned in shutting Tiana up before she could say anymore.

Tiana pulled him in leaving no space for air to pass in-between their lips.

Her skin hummed under his touch. His hands traced every curve and her body became small beneath his.

–––

When Xander woke up, Tatiana was fully asleep.

He took a glance at her sleeping soundly.

For an escort she was quite the beauty.

Having dressed up, he took out a bundle of money and placed it on the bedstand.

Then beside the money, he placed a note:

"You suck at your job."