All Chapters of MISTRESS OF THE GAME: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

XAVIER STORMThe drive home was a blur, everything moved in a funny way, they looked like they were moving by so fast, yet they remained in front of me for too long. I didn’t remember telling the chauffeur where to go. Didn’t remember stepping into the car. Didn’t remember anything but the weight in my chest and the burn in my throat.Marie.Her name was pinned to the walls of my mind like note. She was my breath. Every breath I took pulled her deeper into my lungs, and no amount of whiskey could chase her out.As soon as we arrived, the gate swung open. The mansion loomed ahead—cold, majestic, hollow. The car came to a smooth stop. The chauffeur reached for the handle, but I shoved the door open myself. I stumbled out, my coat slung carelessly over my shoulder, my shirt half-untucked, my fingers trembling slightly.The wind slapped me in the face like an accusation.Else was already there.She always was.Seven years of service had trained her to anticipate me like muscle memory. I u

XAVIER STORMI sat on the edge of the bed, the bottle of whiskey resting in my palm like an old sin I didn’t want to let go of.The glass was cold, half-full, amber liquid catching the muted light leaking through the drawn curtains. I stared at it for a long time. Not blinking. Not breathing. Just… listening to that part of me whispering, One more sip. Just one. Then you’ll think better. Then the ache will stop.It was a lie. I knew it. The kind I’d told myself for years. Whiskey never made anything better. It just made me forget how bad things were, until I woke up the next morning drowning in the same pit with the walls twice as steep.My grip on the bottle tightened, then loosened.I stood.There was a hollow ache in my stomach sharp, raw. A hunger pang cutting through the alcohol haze like a dull knife. The buzz was fading. The fog was lifting. My mind was clearer than it had been since Marie left, and I needed it to stay that way.I walked down the stairs slowly, each step delibe

XAVIER STORMI didn't sit. Couldn’t. My blood was too hot, my thoughts too fast. I paced the room like a caged animal, barely hearing Bull behind me. The walls felt too tight, the ceiling too low. That woman had taken more than my patience, she had taken the center of my storm.“You think she will reach out to him soon?” I asked, stopping by the glass wall that overlooked the city.“I would bet on it,” Bull said, voice steady. “People run to where or who feels safe.”I nodded, jaw clenched.That was what made her dangerous. She made people feel safe. Even I had felt it once. The softness behind her smart mouth. The vulnerability she tried to bury under fire and defiance. That softness had cost me more than I cared to admit.But I wasn’t going to lose this round. No.I turned. “Have the Sandpiper Inn watched. Someone might still remember her. If they do, pay them. If they lie, pay them more. If t

XAVIER STORM“If you weren’t Marie… then where the hell is she?”Back at the hotel, I was vibrating with rage.This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. I should have had her in the backseat; bruised, breathless, but caught. Instead, Bull was dragging in someone I didn’t even recognize beyond the hoodie and the panic.The girl was limp, unconscious from the chase, tossed over Bull’s shoulder like some wild animal finally cornered.He dropped her on the suite’s polished floor with a grunt.My jaw tightened.“Put her in the chair.”Bull dragged her across the tiles and sat her upright. She was waking up slowly now, groaning, lashes fluttering. Her wrists and ankles were bound with zip ties. Gag still in place. I crouched beside her, breathing in her sweat and street grime, studying every inch of her face.Something was… off.Her nose wasn’t the same.Her mout

XAVIER STORMI sat in the car for a while after the call ended. The city’s lights were starting to flicker on amber and white and cold blue smudges in the distance. I let the silence sink into my bones, let it wrap around the raw nerves that had been exposed all day.The drone search felt like my last card, and for the first time in days, I didn’t feel like I was spiraling. If Marie was still in the city, and I believed she was, then she was now contained. Trapped between the woods and the water. She wasn’t invincible, she was that clever. But even clever people got tired. Got sloppy.I started the engine and pulled away from East View. The tires crunched over gravel, my window halfway down to let the wind cut across my face. A part of me expected to see her silhouette in every shadow. Every passing pedestrian could’ve been her, hood up, eyes sharp, disappearing before I could blink.But none of them were her.I drove home. Not the hotel, I needed real life, not the sterile quiet of l