Page 55 of Haunted (Blackwood Brothers #1)

MIRA

I 'm pulled from a dreamless sleep by Xavier's hand gently shaking my shoulder. When I blink my eyes open, he's already dressed in dark jeans and a charcoal button-down, looking irritatingly perfect for someone awake at—I glance at the clock—seven in the morning.

“We need to go,” he says, his voice surprisingly soft compared to the harsh words we exchanged last night.

I sit up, rubbing sleep from my eyes. “Where?”

His lips curve into that infuriating half-smile. “It's a surprise.”

After everything he confessed last night—the murders, the trafficking, all of it—he expects me to follow him to some mystery location? But his expression stops my protest before it forms. There's an unusual vulnerability there, as if he's offering something precious and isn't sure I'll accept it .

“Did you check on Cora?” I ask instead, worry for my friend overrides everything else.

Xavier nods. “I did.”

“How is she?” I pull myself from bed, trying to ignore how his eyes track my movements to the closet.

He doesn't answer, watching as I slip into jeans and a sweater. Then he gestures toward the door. “The car's waiting.”

I frown at Xavier's non-answer about Cora. His silence speaks volumes—she must not be doing well. How could she be? She was claimed by three men as revenge against her father, who watched the whole humiliating spectacle. My stomach twists with guilt.

“Fine,” I mutter, grabbing my jacket and following him to the elevator.

A sleek black SUV waits for us downstairs. Xavier opens the door for me, but I slide in without acknowledging his gesture. Once we're moving through early morning traffic, he reaches for my hand, but I pull away, turning to stare out the window instead.

“Something wrong?” he asks, his deep voice filling the car's interior.

I don't respond. The buildings blur past as we drive through downtown Ravenwood, the city waking up around us. People hurry along sidewalks, clutching coffee cups, oblivious to the underground world that exists alongside theirs—a world I'm now fully immersed in.

Xavier tries again. “Mira? ”

I keep my eyes fixed on the passing scenery. Let him feel what it's like to be ignored for a change.

After several minutes of silence, he sighs but doesn't push further. The tension between us grows thick enough to touch, but I refuse to break first. My worry for Cora outweighs any desire to ease his discomfort.

The car slows as we approach a trendy part of town lined with boutiques and cafés. When we roll to a complete stop, I've reached my limit.

“Are you going to tell me how Cora is or what?” I snap, turning to face him.

Xavier's expression remains impassive as he nods toward the window. “Ask her yourself.”

I whip my head toward the window and there she is—Cora, standing on the sidewalk in front of a coffee shop, looking tired but unharmed. Before Xavier can say another word, I'm throwing open the car door and rushing toward her.

“Cora!” I pull her into a fierce hug. “Are you alright?”

She hugs me back just as tightly. “I'm okay. I think.”

Xavier approaches. “Why don't you two go inside and talk?” He gestures toward the coffee shop entrance.

We walk in together, the warm scent of coffee enveloping us. Xavier leans down, pressing a kiss to my cheek that's so tender it makes my heart ache.

“Take all the time you need,” he murmurs, then turns and walks away, leaving us alone.

Cora and I order coffee—a caramel latte for her and a strong black coffee for me. We find a quiet corner away from other customers, nestling into plush armchairs that face each other.

I reach across the small table between us and grab her hands, squeezing them gently. “How are you doing? The truth.”

She takes a deep breath, and to my surprise, a small smile forms on her lips. “I'm good, Mira. Considering everything, I'm really good.”

I search her face for signs of trauma or distress, but instead find a strange contentment there. Her eyes sparkle when she talks, and she sits with a confidence I don't remember her having before.

“You don't have to pretend,” I whisper. “Not with me.”

“I'm not pretending.” Cora takes a sip of her latte, leaving a foam mustache that she wipes away with a napkin. “It's complicated, but... they're not what I expected.”

“The men who claimed you for revenge against your father?” I can't keep the disbelief from my voice.

She nods, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “They're challenging me intellectually. Treating me like a person, not just the mayor's daughter. It's... refreshing.”

“That doesn't make sense.”

“He checked on me last night,” Cora says, stirring her latte thoughtfully.

“Xavier, I mean. Showed up unannounced. Made sure they're treating me right.” She looks up at me.

“I overheard him tell them that if any of them irrevocably harm me in any way, he'll make them regret it.” Her eyes meet mine with newfound respect. “He said he was doing it for you.”

I stare at Cora, my chest tightening with unexpected emotion. Xavier threatened three powerful men—men who could easily become his enemies—to protect my best friend.

“He really did that?” My voice comes out smaller than intended.

Cora nods. “He was... scary about it. Cold. Said if they so much as left a bruise on me that I didn't explicitly ask for, they'd answer to him personally.”

Tears prick at my eyes. Xavier kept his promise. Not only did he check on her, but he arranged this meeting so I could see for myself that she's okay.

“How... how does it even work?” I ask, leaning forward. “Three men and you?”

Cora laughs, a genuine sound I wasn't sure I'd hear again after everything. “It's not exactly conventional.” She takes another sip of her latte. “They have this massive bed—had to be custom-made to fit all four of us. It's comfortable.”

“All four of you sleep together? Every night?”

“Every night.” A blush spreads across her cheeks. “And the men—they don't only focus on me. They play with each other too, which is...” She fans herself dramatically. “Let me tell you, watching Dominic and Liam together is possibly the hottest thing I've ever seen.”

I nod slowly, a flush creeping up my neck as I remember the Hunt—specifically watching Julian and Elliot together the first time. The way Julian had commanded Elliot, reducing that powerful man to desperate pleas and moans.

“I get it,” I admit. “During the Hunt, I saw Julian with Elliot. It was...” I pause, searching for the right word, “...intoxicating. The power exchange, the raw need. I couldn't look away.”

Cora's eyes widen with understanding. “Exactly! Now imagine that energy but with three men, and they all want you.” She leans closer.

“Dominic is all about control. Liam challenges me intellectually before he even touches me. And Ryder...” She bites her lip.

“Ryder somehow makes it all feel like a game we're all winning.”

I try to picture it—three powerful men, focused on Cora, yet also on each other. The complex dance of desire between four people, rather than two. The possibilities seem endless, overwhelming in the best possible way.

“And when they touch each other?” I ask, genuinely curious now.

“It's like they're performing for me,” Cora says, her pupils dilating slightly at whatever memory is playing in her mind.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to cool the heat spreading through me. “I never thought I'd be having this conversation,” I say with a nervous laugh.

“And they've been different since the Hunt ended,” Cora continues. “Gentler sometimes. More caring. Like they're showing me different sides of themselves.”

“Really?”

“Especially Ryder.” Her expression softens. “He's always been the more sensitive one. And he loves being dominated too, which creates this... connection between us. We understand each other in a way the others don't quite get yet.”

I reach for her hand. “Are you happy, Cora? Truly?”

Cora squeezes my hand back. “I am happy, in a way I didn't expect to be. But...” Her expression clouds, and she stares down at her coffee. “I don't know how I'll ever face my dad again. Or if I can.”

“He was there,” I say quietly, remembering Mayor Pike's horrified face when he saw his daughter with three men.

Cora nods, her eyes growing distant. “He's called me twenty-seven times since that night. Texted even more.” She pulls out her phone, showing me the screen filled with notifications. “He keeps leaving voicemails asking if I'm okay, if I'm being held against my will, if there's anything he can do.”

“Have you talked to him at all?”

She shakes her head, putting her phone face down on the table. “I'm too ashamed, Mira. What do I even say? 'Hey Dad, sorry you had to watch me get fucked by three men who hate you, but guess what—I'm enjoying it now'?”

“He loves you,” I say gently. “He wants to know you're safe.”

“That's the thing,” Cora replies, tracing the rim of her coffee cup with her finger.

“I am safe. Dominic, Liam, and Ryder—they're treating me well. Better than well. But how do I explain that to my father? How do I tell him that the men who used me to hurt him are now...” She trails off, searching for words.

“Making you happy?” I offer.

“Yes.” She meets my eyes, vulnerability written across her face. “What kind of daughter does that make me? Choosing my father's enemies over him?”

I reach for her hand again. “It makes you human, Cora. Complicated, conflicted, and human.”

“Every time my phone rings with his number, my stomach turns inside out.” Tears well in her eyes. “I can't bring myself to answer, but I can't bring myself to block him either. I'm just... stuck.”

I squeeze Cora's hand, struck by a sudden idea. “Why don't you text him right now?”

“What?” Her eyes widen with panic. “I can't?—”

“Not a call,” I clarify quickly. “Just a simple text letting him know you're safe. That you're figuring things out and need some space.”

Cora stares at her coffee, her finger tracing the rim of the cup nervously. “I wouldn't even know what to say.”

“Keep it simple.” I slide her phone closer to her. “Tell him you're safe, that you need time to sort through everything on your own, and that you promise to call if you need him.”

“You think that would be enough?” She looks up at me, uncertainty written across her face.

I nod. “It's a start. He's probably going crazy with worry. Just knowing you're okay might give him some peace.”

Cora picks up her phone and unlocks it, staring at the screen. “What if he demands to see me? Or tries to send the police?”

“You're a consenting adult, Cora. He can't force you to do anything.” I lean forward. “But continuing to ignore him completely will only make him more desperate.”

She takes a deep breath and opens her messages. Her fingers hover over the keyboard for a moment before she begins typing. I watch as she crafts a simple message as I suggested. When she turns the screen toward me for approval, I read:

Dad, I'm safe. I need time to figure things out on my own right now. Please give me space. I promise if I need you, I will call. - C

“Perfect,” I say with an encouraging smile. “Short, clear, and kind.”

Cora's thumb hovers over the send button for several seconds before she finally presses it. Once the message is delivered, she puts the phone face down on the table again and exhales slowly.

“Done,” she whispers, relief and anxiety mingling in her voice.

“You'll feel better for doing that,” I say. “It's the right thing, even if it's hard.”

“You're right.” She picks up her latte with both hands, cradling it like it might steady her. “It does feel like a weight's been lifted. I've been carrying that around for days. ”

Her phone buzzes almost immediately, but she doesn't look at it.

“Aren't you going to check?” I ask.

Cora shakes her head. “Not yet. I need a minute.” She takes a deep breath and changes the subject. “So, enough about my complicated love life. What about you and the infamous Xavier Blackwood? How's that going?”

I stare into my coffee, watching the dark surface ripple as I tap the side of the cup. “It's... intense.”

“That's hardly news,” Cora says with a gentle laugh. “The man radiates intensity wherever he goes. What's it really like, though? Living with him?”

“Honestly? It's not what I expected.” I look up at her. “He's still commanding and controlling, but there are these moments when he's... different. Vulnerable, almost.”

“Vulnerable? Xavier?” Cora raises an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe.”

I think about last night's conversation—his confession about the crimes he's committed, but also the raw honesty in his eyes when he told me I've become his entire world.

“I think...” I pause, almost afraid to say the words aloud. “I think I'm falling in love with him, Cora.”

“Even after everything you know about him?”

I nod slowly. “That's the crazy part. I know exactly what he is. A criminal. I should be running as far and as fast as I can.” I let out a small, helpless laugh. “Instead, I'm sitting here wondering when I can see him again. ”

“Oh, Mira.” Cora reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “We're quite the pair, aren't we?”

“Complete disasters,” I agree, squeezing back.

How did this happen? A month ago, I was determined to expose Xavier Blackwood as the criminal he is. Now I'm sitting here, missing him even though we've only been apart for an hour.

This isn't me. I don't fall for dangerous men, especially not ones who've confessed to murder and drug trafficking.

Yet here I am, humming with anticipation for when I'll see him again. My mind constantly drifts to the way his eyes soften when he looks at me.

It's madness. Complete insanity.

But God help me, I can't stop it. It's like watching myself drown from above the water, but unable to reach down and pull myself out. Every time I think I've found my footing, he speaks to me or touches me in a way that pulls me under again.

The most terrifying part isn't loving him—it's that I'm starting not to care about who he is.