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11: XAVIER STORM
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2025-05-13 18:03:00
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MISTRESS OF THE GAME 25: XAVIER STORM
XAVIER STORMThe chauffeur took off without a word, rushing toward the hotel’s security office to get the camera footage. I didn’t wait. I stormed into the suite, every step loud with fury. Marie had done it, got the proof. But she also disappeared. That stung more than I wanted to admit.I tossed the drive onto the table, pacing back and forth. My fists were clenched tight. I should be relieved. We had what we needed to bring Sunny down. But I couldn’t relax. Not with Marie gone.My phone buzzed. The chauffeur."Sir," he stammered, "they won’t let me access the footage. They said it’s against hotel policy."My anger exploded. "Put one of them on the phone. Now."He hesitated. "They refused. They said no external parties without clearance.""I’ll get them clearance," I snapped and ended the call.I dialed the hotel owner. He picked up after a few rings. "Xavier, it’s late. This better be good."
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 24: XAVIER STORM
XAVIER STORMThe study was cloaked in shadows, the only illumination coming from the dying flames in the fireplace. The books that lined the shelves, had their spines worn from years of use, yet none held my interest tonight. The silence was deafening, broken only by the occasional crackle of burning wood.I sat behind the mahogany desk, my fingers tapping continuously on the desk, eyes fixed on the blank screen of my laptop as if it had the answers I was looking for. The blinking cursor looked like it was mocking me. I had opened a document minutes ago, intending to review the latest intel from Dante, but my mind refused to cooperate. Thoughts of Marie consumed me.I reached for my phone, thumb hovering over Dante's contact. I had already called him twice tonight. Each time, he had told me the same thing, it would be unreasonable for me to call him again. Marie was in position, all we could do now was to wait. I was still uneasy.I set the phone down, exhaling
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 23: XAVIER STORM
XAVIER STORMAfter a long day at work, I felt tired and sweaty, even though I was in an air-conditioned room. I stepped into the house, and it was quieter than usual. I knew Else was here. She was probably in the kitchen, humming, just like she usually did.But tonight, I couldn’t stop thinking about Marie. She went into the casino, stepping into a dangerous place, I was anxious for her safety and the outcome of her task. I hadn’t heard from Dante yet, so I knew she was still working. She was still pretending to be someone else, still taking life endangering risks.I unbuttoned my shirt, feeling the heat from the day. I poured myself a glass of whiskey and drank it without ice. It burned, but it helped me focus for a moment. Then the questions came back.Who leaked the bid for the L-Lounge?I hadn’t even sat down when my phone buzzed. It was Dante.“She’s in. All is set.”I replied right away: “Good. Keep y
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 22: MARIE
MARIEThe road hummed under the tires, streetlights flashing rhythmically across the windshield.Dante was focused, both hands on the wheel, his sharp gaze flicking between the mirrors. His silence was louder than any words, and it wound my nerves tighter by the second.After about fifteen minutes of driving through the once busy city, now seemed sleepy, with fewer cars. He pulled off the highway and slowed near a dimly lit gas station that looked half-shuttered for the night.A dusty pickup truck rolled up behind us, its headlights flashing once. Dante cursed under his breath."Stay here," he said sharply, as he opened the door and stepped out.I stiffened.What the hell was going on?I watched him step into the weak light pooling from the gas station’s overhead lamps. He didn’t even glance back at me.Through the rear window, I saw the chauffeur get out of the pickup truck. They spoke briefly, voices too low to catch. Then they switched cars smoothly. Dante got into the pickup and r
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 21: MARIE
MARIEThe night gave mixed feelings, sweet, scary and slow, dangerous enough to catch you if you weren't careful.Sunny leaned towards me more and more with every hand he lost. His laugh was loose now, his eyes glassy. We sat side-by-side at the poker table, our knees brushing under the velvet-draped surface, and every time I smiled at him, he melted a little more into whatever fantasy he thought he was buying."Sheila..." he slurred, swirling the last of his whiskey in his glass. "I feel like I’ve met you before."My heart slammed hard against my ribs. For one terrible second, I forgot how to breathe.But then I laughed, light and flirtatious, flicking his arm playfully. "Maybe in your dreams, handsome," I said, letting my voice drip with enough sugar to kill a man. "Some people just have those faces, you know?"He chuckled, sloshing whiskey onto the edge of the table. I leaned closer, the black fabric of my dress brushing against his expensive, wrinkled shirt. God, I hoped he stayed
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 20: MARIE
MARIEThe moment Dante handed me the sleek black card and whispered a few last-minute instructions, we split up. He disappeared into the crowd as if he'd never been there, leaving me standing at the edge of the casino floor, clutching the lifeline he gave me like it was the last solid thing in a shifting world.I needed a drink. Badly.I made my way toward the ornate bar, a shimmering piece of art in the middle of the grand room, all glass and gold accents with an air of exclusivity. The bartender was tall, handsome, with sleeves rolled up to show tattooed forearms. He caught my eye the moment I approached."Good evening, miss," he said, flashing a professional smile. "What'll it be?"I slid the black card across the counter, making sure my fingers brushed the glossy surface like I belonged here. Like this wasn't my first time. "Vodka martini," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Make it dirty."He gave a short, approving nod and set to work, expertly spinning bottles and mixing
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 19: MARIE
MARIEThe air outside the suite felt different cleaner, sharper as if the hallway itself knew I was stepping out for more than just a stroll. My heels clicked softly against the marble floors, a muted rhythm that somehow made the reality of tonight sink deeper into my skin.As I moved toward the elevators, a strange satisfaction bloomed in my chest. It wasn’t fear this time. It wasn’t even the dull ache of obligation I’d grown used to.It was excitement.Finally, a mission. Finally, a chance to leave the golden cage of the hotel.Of course, Storm had laid down his conditions strict ones. His last warning echoed inside my head like a bell:You leave with the chauffeur. No detours.I curled my fingers into the palm of my hand, swallowing the urge to rebel right then and there.I hated that order. Hated the feeling of being ferried around like precious cargo.But somewhere in the back of my mind, another idea was beginnin
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 18: MARIE
MARIEThe mirror had stopped lying hours ago.It stared back now, unflinching, unforgiving. A silent accomplice. She stared right back, unblinking. The woman looking back at her wasn’t scared. She was focused. Controlled. Unreadable. At least, that was the plan.Marie adjusted the cuff of her dress for the fourth time, even though it hadn’t moved. The fabric was smooth, almost liquid against her skin, designed to draw eyes, make men stupid. It clung in all the right places and shimmered in the light like temptation. It made her feel like someone else.That was the point, wasn’t it?She let her hand fall and took a deep breath deep, the kind Garrick had taught her to take when her mind started running too fast. There was no room for panic now. No space for doubt. The rules were already written. She just had to play her part long enough to get what she needed and get out.And yet her mind wouldn’t stop spinning.She moved to
MISTRESS OF THE GAME 17: MARIE
MARIEThe silk hangers in the closet barely made a sound as I slid outfit after outfit to the side, my fingers brushing against fabrics too luxurious to feel like mine. Soft satin, elegant lace, expensive blends that whispered wealth and power. But all I could feel was trapped.I paused on a dark green dress elegant but sharp with a slit that kissed the thigh like a secret. I didn’t need to be told Storm had picked these. Every piece screamed curated, seductive, purposeful. A wardrobe of roles to play.“I’m done playing,” I whispered.But that wasn’t entirely true.I backed away from the closet and collapsed onto the edge of the bed, exhaling like I’d been holding my breath for years. I hadn’t even realized how tired I was until I stopped moving. Tilting my head toward the sunlight leaking through the curtains, I noticed time had slipped past me—it was already noon.My stomach growled.Instinct took
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