Page 121 of Haunted
“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 quietcorner 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 regretit.” 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.
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