Don't disobey me
1181 Words
I stood frozen, my emerald dress suddenly feeling like a neon sign in a dark room.
Was this for me? Or was I just the prop he needed to close a deal?
Before I could retreat into the shadows, fingers closed around my hand.
Xavier.
He lifted my hand with a deliberate, slow grace, as if he already held the title to it. His lips brushed my knuckles a touch so soft it was violent.
“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration. “Velvet.”
The word slid under my skin like a needle. I jerked my hand back, my heart slamming against my ribs, but he only smiled. It was a small, knowing expression that said he enjoyed the struggle.
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small black box. My chest tightened; the air in the room seemed to vanish. He flipped it open.
It wasn't a ring, but the relief was short-lived.
A gold necklace lay inside, delicate and deceptively simple. At its center was an engraved plate that caught the chandelier's fire.
Eres mío. You are mine.
The room tilted. I shook my head, my voice failing me. “No.
Xavier’s smile didn’t flicker. He reached for the necklace I was already wearing, his fingers brushing the pulse point at my throat. I flinched, my breath catching in a ragged hitch, but his grip was firm. Unyielding.
He leaned down, his six-foot-five frame casting a shadow that swallowed me whole. I barely reached his chest, forced to look up into the abyss of his eyes.
“Don’t disobey me, little bird,” he whispered.
The words were calm, but they carried the weight of a death sentence.
He unclasped my old necklace and let it drop into his palm like trash. Then, he lifted the new one. The gold felt like ice against my skin as he settled it around my neck. The click of the clasp was final the sound of a trap snapping shut.
Around us, the room moved on. Glasses clinked. Deals were whispered. No one looked. No one cared.
This wasn’t a gift. It was a collar.
I stood there, the weight at my throat feeling heavier than the gold could ever be. Xavier stood a full head taller than everyone else, a mountain of broad-shouldered arrogance. Standing beside him, I felt my own smallness more acutely than ever before. Xavier lingered for a moment, his presence a suffocating weight, before my father caught his eye from across the room and beckoned him over.
With one last, lingering look that felt like a brand, Xavier stepped away. I finally let out the breath I’d been holding, my hand instinctively flying to my throat to touch the cold metal of the plate.
I stood there, a small island of emerald silk in a sea of dark suits, trying to compose my face before anyone noticed the cracks. But I wasn't alone for long.
A man stepped into my line of sight—slightly older than me, shorter than Xavier, though most men were. He wasn’t handsome in the way people admired from across a room; his appeal was sharper, more calculated. The kind of man whose presence unsettled without effort.
“Good evening,” he said, offering a polite smile. “Lovely night, isn’t it?”
I nodded, unsure. “Yes.”
His gaze flicked briefly around the ballroom before returning to me. “Let me guess,” he said lightly. “You must be the birthday girl. You’re the only young woman here who looks like she doesn’t belong.”
I swallowed. “I suppose that makes me easy to spot.”
He chuckled softly. “Indeed.”
His eyes shifted past me just for a second to where Xavier had been standing moments earlier. “And that gentleman who just walked away…” he paused, thoughtful. “That must be him.”
“Him?” I asked.
“The cold CEO,” he said. “The one everyone’s been whispering about. Ruthless. Unreadable. Set to take over the materials company.”
My stomach dropped.
“CEO?” I repeated, stunned. “He’s what?”
The man studied my expression and frowned slightly. “You didn’t know? He's about to take over the Matteo company.
I shook my head. I didn’t know anything.
“Interesting,” he murmured. “That reputation didn’t come from nowhere. People say he learned fast. That London hardened him.”
London again.
“My name is Alex,” he said then, extending a hand. “And you are?”
“Astrid.”
“Pleasure,” he replied. “Tell me, Astrid what do you enjoy doing when you’re not being showcased at… events like this?”
The question caught me off guard. I hesitated, then answered honestly, trying to keep my tone light. “I read. A lot. Novels. It’s easier when you’re… somewhat caged.”
His brow lifted. “Caged?”
I smiled faint.I don’t get out much. Friends are… discouraged.”
Alex’s expression softened, just a fraction. “That sounds lonely.”
“It can be,” I admitted.
As we spoke, I felt it again that familiar prickle along my spine. I didn’t need to look to know.
Xavier was watching.
The weight of his gaze pressed against me, heavy and unrelenting. I forced myself to keep talking, to keep smiling, but my pulse had already begun to race.
Then the air shifted.
Alex’s eyes flicked past me and widened.
I turned.
Xavier stood directly in front of us.
Up close, his presence was overwhelming. Tall. Still. Six foot five and utterly unbothered. His expression was calm, almost polite.
“Good evening,” Xavier said, his voice smooth.
Alex straightened instantly. “Of course. I believe I am needed elsewhere.”
Xavier didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
Alex nodded once quick, respectful and stepped away without another word.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Xavier’s gaze slid back to me, cold and assessing. He didn’t touch me. Didn’t speak.
He just looked.
And I knew without a doubt that whatever game this was…
I had just made my first mistake.
Xavier opened his mouth, and I thought he was about to say something to me.
But before he could, my father rose, stepping into the center of the boardroom. He lifted his crystal glass and clicked it sharply against the table. The sound cut through the murmurs like a gunshot.
“Today,” he said, voice firm, carrying effortlessly across the room, “my daughter turns eighteen.”
I blinked. My father had never made a big deal about birthdays, not like this. But that wasn’t what made my stomach drop.
He continued, his gaze sweeping over the men in the room, “And my heir has just returned from London. He is ready to take the helm of the material company.”
My breath caught.
What?
He hadn’t told me a thing. Not a hint. Normally, we weren’t this formal but tonight, every word felt deliberate.
- Writer
