Page 132 of Pervade London
“You can’t do that.”
“Yes, I can.”
Xavier came toward me. “Afterward, you’ll own this place outright.”
A rush of excitement dissolved as I replayed his words. “After what?”
“Why don’t we all go into the kitchen?” said James. “I’ll make breakfast.”
Xavier smiled. “I’ll make coffee.”
“I don’t want anything,” I lied. “When did you find this place?” I ignored their attempt at playing Martha Stewart to distract me from the news that I was essentially their prisoner. “When did you stock the food?” I added.
“We move fast.” James smirked. “It’s our specialty.”
“This is a temporary fuck-pad,” I bit out.
James didn’t flinch.
“I’m a temporary plaything?” The sarcasm dripped from my tone. “Instead of playing chess, you get to fuck me.”
“Don’t,” said Xavier.
I studied them both.
“You know why,” said James.
Hurrying out, I descended the hardwood steps, gripping the banister as I went, and quickly made it to the front door.
“Emily.” James thundered down the stairs after me.
I spun to face him. “I need to know what this is!” Because I was seconds from walking out.
James glanced back to see that Xavier had followed us. Turning to me, he said, “This is essentially a slow goodbye.”
“Slow?”
“I need to reacclimate you after all you’ve learned.” He shrugged. “Nothing has changed, Em.”
“Not even after…” That night when we’d bonded on an entirely new level.
“Not even after that,” he confirmed.
“Why?”
“Because you’re dating a man who does not exist,” he snapped.
“Xavier?”
James looked surprised. “I don’t count.”
“Because you’re allowed to have a life. You’re allowed to exist. To stroll the mighty chambers of Number 10. To wield your power around London.”
“What you want is incompatible,” he replied calmly.
“With what?”
“Being a famous violinist,” he said sharply. “You want to rise in the orchestra. Have a solo career.”
