Old ties, sharp teeth

Clarissa settled back into the seat beside Xavier, crossing one leg over the other. She angled her body toward him, clearly determined not to be dismissed so easily.

“So, Mr. Xavier Cole,” she said lightly, swirling the drink she’d collected earlier. "you’re single, right?”

Xavier exhaled through his nose, a slow, restrained sigh. His fingers moved to his jacket pocket, fumbling briefly before finding his phone. His expression remained closed, patience thinning.

“Do you want to call someone?” Clarissa offered, leaning in a little. “I can help you.”

He didn’t respond. His thumb moved with practiced precision as he unlocked the screen, navigating by memory alone. Clarissa watched, brows lifting despite herself.

“You seem to know your way around a phone,” she remarked.

Xavier let out a quiet scoff. “I’m blind,” he said coolly, “not incompetent.”

The words landed flat, sharp enough to end the conversation. He selected a contact, the one at the top without hesitation and lifted the phone to his ear. It rang once. Twice. Then—

“Yes,” he said simply, and ended the call.

Clarissa blinked. “That was fast.”

Within minutes, an elderly man approached them, his posture respectful, movements familiar. He leaned slightly toward Xavier.

“Sir.”

Xavier rose to his feet at once, taking the man’s arm without ceremony.

Clarissa stood as well. “You’re leaving already?” she asked, a touch of disbelief creeping into her tone.

Xavier didn’t answer. His chaffaur guided him away, their footsteps fading into the noise of the party.

Clarissa remained standing for a moment, staring after him. Then she scoffed quietly, lifting her glass and taking a long sip.

“You seem to like him.”

The voice came from her side.

Clarissa stiffened and turned. “What do you want, Simon?” she groaned, irritation plain on her face.

Simon smiled, slow and knowing. “We need to talk.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away, weaving through the guests with casual confidence. Clarissa hesitated, then followed, heels clicking softly as the music swallowed them whole.

    ****************************

 Xavier settled back against the leather seat, exhaling slowly as the door closed. The muted hum of the city filtered through the tinted windows, distant and dull. He tilted his head slightly, resting it against the headrest, jaw tight.

The elderly chauffeur in the driver’s seat glanced at him through the rearview mirror. His name was Mr. Alden—a man who had driven Xavier long before the accident, long before Xavier lost his sight. 

“Sir,” Alden said carefully, hands steady on the wheel, “forgive me for speaking out of turn, but may I offer a suggestion?”

Xavier lifted his head, his expression unreadable. “What is it?” he asked evenly.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t wish to overstep, sir, but perhaps someone should accompany you to events like these. Someone whose only task is you—not business matters."

There was a brief pause.

Then Xavier spoke, his voice low, controlled.

“It’s already being handled.”

Alden blinked, surprised, but said nothing.

“That shouldn't even concern you in any way." Xavier continued, his tone clipped.

The words weren’t loud. They didn’t need to be. They landed final.

“Yes, sir,” Alden said quietly.

Xavier turned his face toward the window, the faint glow of streetlights brushing his features as they passed. “Focus on the road,” he added. “That’s your job.”

Alden inclined his head at once. “My apologies, sir.”

The engine started smoothly, and the car pulled away from the curb. 

______________________

 Clarissa followed Simon into the small sitting room at the end of the corridor. The moment she stepped inside, she shut the door behind her with a sharp click and folded her arms across her chest.

“What now, Simon?” she said flatly. “We ended whatever that was months ago. Don’t tell me you dragged me in here to reminisce.”

Simon turned slowly, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. He walked toward her at an unhurried pace, stopping far too close. He lifted a finger, tilting her chin up until she had no choice but to meet his eyes.

“You know I still have feelings for you,” he said softly.

“Cut the crap,” Clarissa snapped, jerking her face away. “You don’t get to say things like that anymore.”

Simon chuckled, clearly enjoying her irritation. “So that’s it, then?” he said. “You want my brother.”

She stiffened. “And so what if I do?”

His smile sharpened. “Do you even know where he lives?”

Clarissa scoffed. “Have you forgotten who I am? If I want to find out where the great Xavier Cole lives, I will.”

Simon laughed, the sound low and mocking. “His house isn’t somewhere you just show up to. And tell me—are you sure this isn’t about his money?”

Her eyes flashed. “And what would I be after exactly?” she shot back. “I like him. Yes, it was my first time meeting him tonight. So what? I know we’ll meet again.”

Simon studied her for a long second, his expression darkening. Then, without warning, he grabbed her waist and pulled her hard against him, crashing his mouth onto hers.

Clarissa froze for half a heartbeat before shoving him away with both hands. “Don’t,” she hissed, wiping her mouth. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Simon’s smile returned, slower now, more dangerous. “You always did pretend you were above it,” he said. “But you came with me, didn’t you?”

She took a step back, her voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath it. “I came because you said we needed to talk. Not because I belong to you.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Careful, Clarissa. Xavier isn’t what you think. And if you get too close…” His eyes flicked toward the door. “You might regret it.”

She squared her shoulders. “Worry about yourself, Simon.”

She reached for the door and pulled it open, leaving him standing there.