THE KING'S PROPERTY

Chapter 5: The Groundskeeper

Xavier walked her out through the east garden instead of the front drive, and Abigail understood without asking that it was deliberate, a route that kept them away from windows where Vivienne or Julian might be watching. The late afternoon light had turned gold, catching on the cracked marble fountain she'd photographed that morning, and it struck her as strange how different the same space could feel a few hours and one confrontation later.

"There's a path through the orchard that comes out near the front gate," Xavier said. "Fewer eyes."

"You really think they're watching every exit."

"I know they are. Vivienne installed cameras along the perimeter two years ago, told me it was for security." His mouth twisted, something bitter in it. "I've since learned the feed also runs to a server Julian has access to."

"That's not creepy at all."

"Welcome to my family."

They walked in silence for a moment, gravel crunching under their feet, and Abigail found herself stealing glances at him sideways, trying to reconcile the man who'd gone cold and precise with Delphine against the one who'd said terrifies me like it cost him something to admit.

An older man appeared from behind a hedge line, shears in hand, and straightened the moment he saw them, his weathered face breaking into something warm at the sight of Xavier.

"Mr. Drago. Wasn't expecting you out this way."

"Walter." Xavier's whole posture eased, just slightly, the way it hadn't for anyone else all day. "This is Abigail Lee. She did the photography survey this morning."

Walter's eyes moved to Abigail with open curiosity, then back to Xavier, and something passed between the two men that Abigail couldn't quite read, an old familiarity that went beyond employer and staff.

"The one Delphine hired," Walter said. It wasn't a question.

"You knew."

"I know everything that happens on this property, son. Told you that when your father was still alive." Walter set his shears down against the hedge, studying Abigail a moment longer. "She have anything to do with what's going on with your mother's people?"

"Not by choice," Xavier said. "She didn't know what she was walking into."

"Mm." Walter's gaze softened, and Abigail felt oddly like she was being assessed and approved of in the same glance. "Your father used to say the good ones never know what they're walking into. Just fall into it anyway and do the right thing once they're there."

Xavier went very still at the mention of his father, and Abigail watched something flicker behind his eyes, grief dressed up as composure.

"I should get her to the gate," he said, voice a shade rougher than before.

Walter nodded, picked his shears back up, but before they'd gone three steps he called after them. "Xavier."

Xavier turned.

"Don't let this family talk you out of the good ones," Walter said. "You've let them talk you out of enough already."

Neither of them spoke again until they were well past the hedges, the orchard opening up around them in rows of old fruit trees that looked like they'd been there longer than the house itself.

"He's known you a long time," Abigail said finally.

"Since I was born. He worked for my father before I existed." Xavier's hands were in his pockets, his gaze fixed somewhere on the middle distance. "He's the only person on this property who's never once asked me for anything."

"That sounds lonely. Being surrounded by people who only show up wanting something."

"It is." He glanced at her, something raw in the admission. "It's part of why today has been strange. You didn't want anything from me. You still don't, as far as I can tell."

"I wanted the two thousand dollars," she said, trying to lighten it, and it worked, pulling something close to a real smile out of him.

"That's business. I mean beyond that."

"I don't know what I want beyond that," she admitted again, and this time it didn't feel like deflection, it felt like the truth catching up to her in real time, inconvenient and a little frightening.

They reached the edge of the orchard where the property line met a quiet residential road, her car parked exactly where she'd left it that morning, looking smaller and more ordinary than it had any right to after the day she'd had.

"This is me," she said, gesturing at the car with more casualness than she felt.

"I know." Xavier didn't move to open her door or usher her along, just stood there like he was working through the calculus of what came next. "Can I ask you something."

"You've asked me a lot of things today."

"One more." His eyes held hers, steady despite the uncertainty underneath. "If Delphine calls you tomorrow and asks you to shoot another property for her, another job, no idea what it's connected to, would you take it?"

Abigail considered the question longer than it probably deserved. "Depends what it's connected to."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the most honest one I have." She leaned back against her car door, arms crossing loosely over her camera bag. "A few hours ago I would have said yes without blinking. Now I know what it feels like to walk into the middle of something without knowing what I'm stepping into. I'd ask more questions."

"Would you ask if it involved me?"

The question hung there, more vulnerable than anything he'd said all day, stripped of the composure he'd worn like armor since the moment she met him.

"Is that what you're really asking," she said quietly. "Whether I'd walk away if it meant staying out of your family's mess?"

"Yes."

"No," she said, surprising herself with how quickly it came. "I wouldn't walk away. Not because of the money. Because I don't like leaving things unfinished, and today felt very unfinished."

Something in Xavier's face loosened at that, relief and something warmer underneath it, and for a moment Abigail thought he might close the distance between them entirely. Instead he reached out and gently tucked a strand of hair back from her face, the gesture so careful and unhurried it felt like it belonged to a version of him nobody else got to see.

"Be careful," he said softly. "Not of me. Of them. Vivienne doesn't forget faces, and she definitely won't forget yours after today."

"I can handle myself."

"I believe you." His hand lingered near her cheek a moment longer than necessary before he let it fall. "That doesn't mean I'll stop worrying."

Abigail's phone buzzed against her hip, breaking the moment before she could figure out what to do with the way her chest had gone tight and warm all at once. She pulled it free, glanced at the screen, and felt her stomach drop for the second time that day.

An unknown number. A single message, no name attached.

I know you were in his study for over an hour. My son doesn't let strangers into that room. Come see me tomorrow morning. We should discuss what you saw, Miss Lee. And what it might cost you if you decide to repeat any of it.

She looked up at Xavier, and whatever he saw on her face made his entire posture change, the softness from a moment ago vanishing, replaced instantly by something sharper and far more dangerous.

"What is it," he said, already reaching for her phone before she'd said a word.

"Your mother," Abigail said, voice unsteady despite herself. "She wants to see me. Alone. Tomorrow morning."