Page 45 of Stalked
I approach him directly, weaving through the sparse early-evening crowd. Up close, his tailored suit probably costs morethan a month's salary at my gallery. When I stop beside him, his steel-gray eyes flick up, assessing me with clinical precision.
“Lia Morgan,” he says, his voice a smooth baritone. He doesn't offer his hand. “You've grown up.”
“So have you, Xavier.” I place the black envelope on the bar between us. “I believe this belongs to your organization.”
His gaze drops to the envelope, then back to my face. A slight smile curves his lips, not reaching his eyes. “Interesting. I expect my brother would want this delivered to him personally.”
“I'm sure he would.” I maintain eye contact, refusing to be intimidated. “But I prefer to deliver it to you.”
Xavier picks up the envelope, tapping it thoughtfully against the bar. “You always were clever, even in high school. I remember Vane complaining about that.” He slides the envelope into his jacket. “Welcome to the Hunt, Ms. Morgan. I am looking forward to seeing what you're truly capable of,” Xavier says, taking a sip of his drink. “I remember you taking Vane down a peg or two in debate club. Not many people managed that.”
I can't help but smile. “Someone had to. His ego was already the size of Jupiter.”
“More like the entire solar system.” Xavier chuckles, a surprisingly warm sound from someone who presents such a cold exterior. “There was that time he was convinced he'd win the science fair with that ridiculous volcano.”
“Oh god, the one that exploded all over Principal Greene?” I laugh, the memory vivid. “He was picking red dye out of his eyebrows for weeks.”
Xavier sets down his glass. “To be fair, the chemical reaction was impressive. Just not in the way Vane intended.”
“I thought he was going to combust right there in the gymnasium.” I shake my head, surprised at how easy this conversation feels. “Your brother never did handle embarrassment well.”
“Still doesn't.” Xavier's eyes crinkle at the corners. “You should see him when we beat him at poker night.”
“Let me guess—he flips the table?”
“Close. Last time he threw his cards at Knox and stormed out, only to return ten minutes later pretending nothing happened.”
We're both laughing when a shadow falls across the bar. The temperature in the room appears to drop ten degrees.
“What the fuck is this?”
Vane stands there, his green eyes burning with such intensity that I take an involuntary step back. His jaw is clenched tight, hands balled into fists at his sides. He's not looking at me, though—his murderous glare is fixed entirely on his brother.
“Problem, little brother?” Xavier asks.
Vane takes a step closer, his body vibrating with barely contained fury. “You accepted her contract? You weren't supposed to be involved in this.”
Xavier merely arches an eyebrow. “Ms. Morgan chose to deliver it to me. I was simply being polite.”
Vane steps between me and Xavier, his shoulders rigid with tension.
“Back off, X.” His voice drops to a dangerous growl as he grabs my wrist, his fingers circling the delicate bones with bruising force. “We need to talk. Now.”
Before I can protest, he's dragging me away from the bar, past curious onlookers, and through a dimly lit corridor lined with private rooms. The bass from the club pulses through the walls, matching the angry rhythm of my heartbeat.
“Get your hands off me,” I hiss, digging my heels into the polished floor. When he doesn't slow down, I twist my arm sharply and yank free, nearly stumbling in my stilettos. “I said, get off!”
Vane whirls around, backing me against the wall in one fluid motion. His palms slam against the surface on either side of my head, caging me in. The scent of his cologne fills my senses, making it hard to focus.
“You signed it,” he breathes, his face inches from mine. “You actually signed it.”
I tilt my chin up, refusing to be intimidated despite how my body betrays me with a shiver. “Obviously. Did you think I wouldn't?”
His green eyes darken as they roam over my face, lingering on my lips. “I thought you'd run. It's what you do best, isn't it, wildflower? Run away from me.”
“Is that what you think?” I laugh, the sound sharp enough to make him blink. “God, your ego is still astronomical. Maybe I just had better things to do than orbit around you.”
“And yet here you are.” His lips curve into a smirk that makes my stomach flip. “Back in my gravity well.”
