Chapter 14: The Tyrant Comes Calling

I leaned back against the brick wall outside my place, one foot braced against a crack in the masonry. The first drag of my cigarette burned all the way down.

Long day.

Across the street, Matias was leaning on his bike, just watching me.

Matias Locke had been my first real friend in The Pit. Six years ago, he’d mistaken me for a prostitute, flashed a roll of cash, and asked for my price. I’d taken the money and vanished.

Instead of hunting me down to kill me, he spent two days tracking me through the alleys just to ask how the hell I’d managed to rob him. We’ve been friends ever since.

“You’ve got company,” he called out.

I frowned. A black sedan had just pulled up to the curb. Only one person in this city traveled with windows dark enough to hide an ego that size.

The rear door opened and Xavier Beckett stepped out.

Matias muttered, “I suddenly get why you’ve been so distracted.”

I flicked my cigarette onto the pavement. “I’ll call you later.”

“You’d better.” He climbed onto his bike, shot Xavier one last suspicious look, and tore off down the street.

Xavier waited until the sound of the motorcycle faded before he started walking toward me.

“You’re a long way from Vanguard.”

“So are you.”

“I followed you from the bar.”

“That’s not the confession you think it is,” I replied.

“It wasn’t meant to impress you.”

I unlocked the door.“You have one minute,” I told him.

I stepped inside and didn’t bother looking back to see if he was following. The door clicked shut behind me anyway. Of course it did. Xavier Beckett probably hadn’t been told ‘no’ since the day he was born.

He took a slow look around the place. My sofa had been patched so many times the stitching actually looked like a design choice. Medical textbooks were piled up next to the TV, and three unpaid utility bills were pinned to the fridge with a handful of mismatched magnets.

“You live here,” he said.

“I sleep here.”

His eyes lingered on the peeling paint. “You work three jobs.”

“I just love being exhausted,” I replied.

He didn’t even blink at the sarcasm. “I could buy this building.”

I dropped my keys into a bowl. “I don’t doubt that.”

“I could buy every apartment on this street.”

“I’m sure you could.”

“I could have you in a better place by tomorrow.”

For the first time since we’d walked in, I actually looked at him. “There it is.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“The Xavier Beckett I remember.” I folded my arms. “You see a problem, and your first instinct isn’t to understand it—it’s to write a check.”

“Would you refuse it?” He asked. “Without even seeing the amount?”

I laughed, though it wasn’t a happy sound. “I did.”

His expression didn’t shift. “You just weren’t willing to pay it.”

The room went dead quiet. For the first time since he arrived, Xavier didn’t have an immediate answer. Instead, his eyes drifted across the room again—the secondhand furniture, the patched curtains, the cracked mug drying by the sink. Nothing expensive. Nothing impressive. But everything in that room existed because I had put it there myself.

“I don’t understand you,” he said eventually.

“You don’t have to.”

“I will.”

There wasn’t any anger in his voice, but there wasn’t any affection either.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. “The board is waiting.”

“Then don’t keep your empire waiting.”

He started toward the door, then stopped. “When something captures my attention, I see it through.”

“I’m not one of your acquisitions.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. “I’ll prove you wrong.”

“You’re assuming I care.”

“I assume everyone cares.”

“There it is again.”

“What?”

“The ego.”

He actually smirked. “You’ll get used to it.”

“I survived The Pit,” I said, opening the door for him. “I think I’ll survive you.”

For a second, neither of us moved. Then he walked out.

The apartment felt larger the moment he left.

He still thinks the world belongs to him, Ciel spoke quietly.

I looked at the black business card he’d left on the counter.

That’s his first mistake.

I looked down at the card.

Common sense told me to toss it in the trash and pretend Xavier Beckett had never stepped foot in my apartment. I’d spent six years building a life for myself, and it felt like the only smart move would be to just keep it that way.

But I slid the card into my wallet anyway.

It wasn’t that I trusted him, and I definitely hadn’t forgiven him. I just wanted to know what happened.

If Xavier thought he could just drag me back into his life on his own terms, he was dead wrong. This time, I’m the one in charge of the questioning.