Page 35 of The Loathing

Emily Brontë.

Charlotte Brontë.

Shakespeare.

Margaret Mitchell.

Arizona would be in heaven. I slip my phone from my inside suit pocket and snap a quick photo so I can show Arizona later. Putting my phone back, I fist my hands in my pockets and walk back towards the seating area when I see the handle wobble. I inhale deeply, standing tall, my shoulders back and I let me eyes stay pinned to the door and that’s when I see her.

My lips part slightly, but I compose myself quickly. Her fiery red hair is sitting in a high and messy ponytail with long, wavy strands which have come loose and are hanging round her face. She has freckles dotted across her nose and cheeks and I can’t help the smile that creeps onto my face when I see the pastel lilac paint that is smudged across her cheekbone. Her eyes match her father’s, her left dark brown, her right crystal blue. She is a perfect mix of both of her parents, just like I am with mine. Her eyes widen as they sweep over me.

“Amora,” Xavier snaps, his voice stern which seems to pull her eyes from me and they move to her father. “This is Titus,” she gently nods towards me and I watch as she stands a little taller. Is it a warning? But then her eyes meet mine once more and I feel a sudden calmness.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” her voice is soft but I can hear the assertiveness to it. There is something about her voice that seems to cause the hairs on the back of my neck to stand and I feel a shiver dance across my spine but I manage compose myself.

“The pleasure is all mine, Amora,” my voice is low as my eyes roam up and down her body one last time and a small smile pulls at the corner of my lips. I go to open my mouth once more but Xavier snipes in.

“Okay, Amora, you’re excused…” she keeps quiet, nods and turns to walk away and within seconds she is out the room, the door closed again.

I am shocked at her obedience, she’s submissive with her father and I honestly didn’t think she would be. I was sure that she would give her father an attitude back, but she didn’t even show that she may have that streak deep inside of her.

Maybe I have misjudged her.

“I trust all is well?” Xavier pulls me from my thoughts.

“All is fine,” I nod.

“Good, then shall we go through the files then?”

I nod once more.

“Are you a brandy drinker? Or a whiskey?”

“I like both,” I stand still, my hands still deep in the pockets of my suit.

“My kind of man,” his stern face finally breaks slightly as he smiles and for some reason that small bit of interaction makes me smile myself.

We sit on the sofa, both in silence as we sip from the warm amber liquid.

“You look tired,” the gruffness in Xavier’s voice makes my eyes lift to meet his.

“I am exhausted,” I admit, sighing as I take another mouthful.

Once Amora left, Royal came back into the library but without their sons this time. Xavier told me briefly that he was tipped off to take down Ryder Knight, he was one of the biggest drug runners in London and it seemed somebody wanted him out of the way, and when the job came in, it was from an anonymous source. Xavier showed up, followed instruction and did the job. But it wasn’t until he was on his way home that he found out that he killed the wrong brother. He killed Bartholomew Knight, the boss of the underground crime world. He fucked with the wrong family. It didn’t matter how much he tried to clean up the mess and fight his case, in their eyes, what’s done is done. The wrong blood had been spilled and now Bartholomew’s sons wanted their own blood. And they chose Amora.

Xavier had blood on his hands, and it didn’t matter how much he washed them, he couldn’t remove the stains. I could tell that Xavier wanted to tell me more, but he seemed to keep quiet while Royal was there and when she left, Xavier fell silent.

I didn’t want to push; I can’t even begin to imagine what he went through when this all happened.

“Go to bed, we can sort a plan out tomorrow, then work begins,” he swallows the contents of his tumbler, placing it down on the table to the right of the sofa.

I finish my own drink and stand, placing it next to his.

“I’ll see you in the morning, can you remember how to get back to your room?”

I nod.

“Night,” Xavier says as he walks towards the door and leaves me sitting there alone.

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