The moment Xavier stepped into the master suite, the void hit him. Her perfumes, her skincare bottles, the soft silk robe that usually draped over the armchair—everything was gone. She hadn't just moved to the guest room; she had scrubbed her presence from his personal space.
His eyes darkened, a flash of predatory irritation crossing his face. He set his briefcase down with a sharp thud, changed into a charcoal silk lounge suit, and strode back out.
Butler White was already waiting in the hallway. "Sir."
Xavier’s voice was like a subterranean frost. "Pack the rest of Chloe’s things. Get her out of this house."
The veteran butler froze. He looked at Xavier’s stony, unyielding profile and knew better than to offer a word of mediation. He bowed his head. "Yes, sir."
Without another word
