LOGINXena Cross spent three years married to a man who treated her like a problem he hadn't figured out how to solve yet. Then Adrian solved it publicly, calling her a criminal in front of everyone who mattered in Chicago, with her own sister standing beside him and smiling. She had nowhere to go and no one willing to pick up her calls. Then Dante Yale showed up, got her out, and offered her a deal. Marry him. Take his name. Let him handle the rest. She said yes. She needed a way out and he was offering one. What she didn't know was that Dante had been watching her for three years, that he had the evidence to stop that night before it happened and chose not to, and that every move he has made since was planned long before she had any say in it. The revenge is going exactly as planned, and the world is finally at Xena's feet. But as she falls for the man who saved her, she's about to learn that Dante Yale didn't just find her in the wreckage—he's the one who ensured she crashed.
View MoreXena.
I gasped for breath, my legs still aching from the last round. Yet Dante stood over me like this was nothing but probably another of his one night stands.The bed was wet beneath me, wet from my juices.
I stared at the ceiling for a while, the memories of his cock inside of me played over and over again.
"Are you alright?” He asked, buttoning up his shirt.
"I can't believe," I said slowly, still not looking at him, "that I just slept with my ex-husband's uncle."
~A day ago~
"You have no choice but to attend."
Adrian said it the way he said most things. He cut into his meat and put a piece in his mouth without looking up.
I set my fork down.
"I don't like being forced into things," I remarked. "You know that."
He smirked, swirling the wine in his glass then finally looked at me. "Says the woman who was forced to marry me."
"I decided to."
He didn't argue. He just turned back to his plate and let the silence settle like he'd already won.
I picked my fork back up and stared at my food without eating it.
It was three years now and our dinners were still the same old boring conversations that went nowhere.
I had made my peace with most of it. I had stopped expecting warmth from Adrian Yale around the same time I stopped expecting an apology from my stepmother — which was to say, very early and with very little drama.
What I hadn't made my peace with was being handled.
Three years ago I didn't even know I was getting married that day.
I remembered the morning clearly. My stepmother's voice through the door. “Get dressed. Something's happened. You're needed.” No explanation until I was already in the car and gotten to the court.
Hannah had run away the morning before she was supposed to get married to the Yale family as agreed between both families.
And my stepmother turned to me as the solution.
“The scandal would destroy both families,” she had said. “You're the only option. You owe us this much.”
I had never owed them anything. But I had walked into that ceremony anyway and married him by force.
Adrian had known, of course. He wasn't happy about it. But he was also twenty-three, aware that the Yale name required the alliance, and I was close enough to what had been promised that no one had to explain anything publicly.
Now here I was, three years in, married to a man who didn't give a fuck if I died while he slept with a different woman each week.
"My point stands."
Adrian's voice pulled me back. He was watching me now with a flat expression.
"The gala is tonight," he said. "My promotion. You'll be there."
"And if I'm not?"
He set his glass down carefully. "Then I tell the story of how Hannah Cross disappeared the morning of her own wedding and a substitute showed up in her place." A pause. "The real one. With details."
I kept my face still.
He's bluffing. He had too much to lose. The Yale name would take damage too. Adrian liked his reputation more than anything and burning it to punish me didn't fit the man I'd spent three years watching.
But….
He was also sitting across from me at a dinner he'd cooked no part of, in a house he'd bought no part of and wearing a suit that cost more than some people's annual salary.
He also looked completely at ease making that threat.
I didn't want to risk it.
"Fine," I said.
He nodded like I'd confirmed something minor. Stood, buttoned his jacket.
"I'll be in the garage when you're ready." He left without pushing his chair in.
I sat at the table alone for a moment.
Then I breathed.
“Mia!!” I called and the girl came rushing in.
“Get my gown ready.”
And just like that we went to the gala.
I had attended enough of these in three years to move through them without effort. And right now I need a break.
I turned and saw a way out. Jackpot.
I was walking towards it when I heard my name.
My father's voice.
I turned, and there they were — my father and stepmother, moving through the crowd toward me.
My father's arms was already open meanwhile my stepmom kept that ugly frown she always had.
Happy to see you too.
Dad reached me first and pulled me into a hug that surprised me slightly.
“I can't believe it's been yee years," he said quietly. "Thank you for holding this together."
I didn't say anything. I just let him hold on for a moment.
My stepmother stopped just behind him, looked me over from top to bottom and scoffed, "Not bad. For an illegitimate child."
I smiled.
"That's practically a declaration of love coming from you," I said, just loud enough.
Her eyes sharpened. She opened her mouth —
"Where's your husband?" my father cut in, already scanning the room. "Adrian should be —" He stopped.
His face had gone pale.
I turned to follow his gaze.
Adrian was crossing the room on the far side of the crowd and beside him, tucked close, her hand through his arm was a woman.
I was at loss for words. It wasn't just any woman. It was—
“Hannah.” I muttered to myself in disbelief
I felt a relief in my chest
She was alive. She was standing twenty feet away looking perfectly fine.
It was like she hadn't aged at all. I smiled and rushed to hug her.
But two men in dark suits materialized from nowhere and stopped me.
I looked past them and Hannah's eyes met mine across the room.
She raised one hand, almost slowly, and pointed directly at me.
"Yes," she announced. "She's the one who kidnapped me.".
Xena“The key,” Okafor whispered beside me, gripping my wrist hard enough to leave marks. “Xena, nobody in this room said the word key.”I turned to stare at him. His face was close to mine, his glasses sliding down his nose, while Pell sat back down at the side table.At the front of the room, the chair lowered her pen. She conferred with the two men in murmurs I couldn’t hear, her hand covering the microphone in front of her. Dante sat rigid at his table with his palms pressed flat against the wood.When the chair looked up again, she spoke directly to him.“Mr. Cross, this board was prepared to rule today,” she announced, folding her hands on top of her notes. “Given this complaint, we can’t. Our decision is deferred until bar counsel completes a review. We’ll reconvene in fourteen days.”Dante’s shoulders dropped an inch, and he kept his eyes on the table.“I understand, Madam Chair,” he answered, every word clipped short. “Thank you for your time.”“For what it’s worth,” she adde
Xena.“Fix my tie,” Dante muttered, stopping me in the hallway outside the hearing room. “Please. I’ve tied it four times, and it still looks like I did it in the dark.”I reached up and loosened the knot. His collar was damp under my fingers, and I could feel his pulse jumping against my knuckles while I worked. Down the corridor, a clerk with a cart of file boxes rolled past without looking at us.“It’s straight now,” I told him, smoothing the silk flat against his shirt. “Herald would approve.”A short laugh escaped him. He caught my hand before I could lower it and pressed it flat over his heart while he breathed in through his nose and out through his mouth.“First row,” he reminded me under his breath.“First row,” I promised. “I’m not going anywhere.”Footsteps came up the corridor behind us. Okafor hurried toward us with his b
Xena“Get out of my way,” Foster growled, his face blotched red. “I’m taking it to the police myself. Right now. My mother can hate me for it after.”“Which station are you going to, and which officer?” Dante asked, standing his ground. “If you walk in off the street and hand that key to whoever’s at the front desk, there’s no record of where it came from. Any defense lawyer will get it thrown out before a jury ever sees it.”“Then let them throw it out!” Foster shouted. The man in the wheelchair turned his head toward us. “My brother’s been dead for fifty-two years, and the police never questioned a single person!”I took two steps toward them with my hands raised, unsure which of them I meant to calm. Behind me, I heard the soft hiss of the room door again, and I turned around.Cassandra stood in the doorway of 412, gripping the frame with one hand and
Xena“I have no idea how Gerald got that key,” Dante answered, rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear it to you, Cassandra. I barely knew the man. He was a name at the head of the table at Christmas, and I was a kid at the far end of it.”Cassandra kept the key raised between them. Her hand trembled, and the brass caught the light from the window each time it moved.Foster came around the foot of the bed. He stopped an arm’s length from Dante, close enough that I could smell stale coffee on his breath.“Your family,” he said, cold and very quiet. “Your family had my brother’s key in a gift box for eleven years while my mother kept a spare in her kitchen drawer and wondered.”“Foster,” I began, rising from my knees. “Dante didn’t...”“Let him answer,” Foster snapped, without taking his eyes off Dante. “He’s a lawyer. He can speak for himself.”I bit the inside of my cheek and closed my mouth when Dante’s fingers squeezed my shoulder once.The nurse at the computer cart had stopped pret
Xena.I gasped for breath, my legs still aching from the last round. Yet Dante stood over me like this was nothing but probably another of his one night stands.The bed was wet beneath me, wet from my juices. I stared at the ceiling for a while, the memories of his cock inside of me played over an
Xena.The ceiling in Dante's room was different from the one in the guest room.I noticed that first, which probably said something about the state of my brain. I stared at it and waited for regret to arrive.It didn't.What arrived instead was a very thorough physical awareness of every decision
Xena.The night air hit me the moment we stepped outside and I realized it was the first clean breath I'd taken in hours.Dante's car was already waiting. The long black car didn't need a logo to tell one it cost fortunes. A driver stood at the rear door without being summoned and I got in without
Xena.I have had some strange experiences in my lifetime.Being born illegitimate into a family that kept me like a footnote. Being sent to a wedding that wasn't mine with twenty minutes of notice. And spending three years married to a man who looked through me at dinner every night.But none of th
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