When You Became My Home

Chapter Nine-Cairo

I woke up confused.

For a few seconds, I didn’t know where I was.

The ceiling was unfamiliar.

The curtains were dark.

The room was almost entirely black.

Black walls.

Black furniture.

Black bedding.

Everything had that cold, sophisticated look that somehow managed to feel expensive without being warm.

Then I remembered.

Xander.

I was in Xander’s room.

My stomach dropped.

Last night came rushing back.

The club.

Xander’s face.

His voice.

The way he had looked at me.

The argument.

His house.

His room.

I sat up quickly.

He had been terrifying.

Not just intimidating.

Terrifying.

I looked around.

He wasn’t there.

Good.

I grabbed my bag immediately.

I wasn’t staying.

I slipped out of the bedroom and hurried downstairs, determined to leave before Xander could—

“Where are you going?”

I froze.

Of course.

Xander was sitting in the living room.

Already dressed.

Already drinking black coffee.

Of course he was.

“Um…”

He looked at me.

“Come have breakfast.”

There it was.

That tone.

Final.

I didn’t argue.

Not after last night.

I slowly walked toward the dining room.

The breakfast table was beautifully arranged. Fresh fruit, pastries, eggs, toast, coffee, juice.

Everything looked perfect.

I sat down.

Xander’s eyes immediately moved over me.

From my face.

Down my body.

Then back up.

His jaw tightened.

I looked away and started eating.

Maybe if I stayed quiet, breakfast would be peaceful.

It wasn’t.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

I paused.

“Xander…”

“Didn’t I tell you not to wear revealing clothes?”

“It was for the club.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

His voice was low.

“Cairo, it doesn’t matter.”

I swallowed.

“Do you know how many men would have looked at you?”

I didn’t answer.

“Do you know what men think when you’re dressed like that?”

I looked at him.

He was making it sound as though I’d walked into the club wearing nothing.

I decided not to engage.

I finished my breakfast.

Then I stood and reached for my bag.

“Where the hell are you going now?”

I stopped.

“I’m going home.”

“Home?”

He looked at me.

“You’re staying here.”

“What?”

“You’re spending the whole day here.”

“No, Xander. I can’t spend the whole day here.”

“Why?”

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it.

I didn’t actually have a good reason.

“I don’t have an outfit here.”

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

He took another sip of coffee.

“When you’re finished, go upstairs. Walk into my closet. There’s an outfit there.”

I stared at him.

Of course there was.

I wanted to argue.

I really did.

But that tone stopped me.

So I picked up my bag and went upstairs.

⸻

Xander’s closet was enormous.

I stood in the doorway for a moment.

Armani.

Suits.

Shoes.

Watches.

Everything perfectly arranged.

Everything organized.

Not one thing out of place.

“Psychopath,” I muttered.

I walked farther inside.

Then I stopped.

There was another section.

And it wasn’t filled with Xander’s clothes.

It was filled with mine.

I stared.

Silk shirts.

Satin trousers.

Elegant two-piece sets.

Soft sweaters.

Pajamas.

Shoes.

Everything.

My size.

My taste.

My colors.

I touched one of the shirts.

Soft.

Beautiful.

Expensive.

I looked around the closet in disbelief.

“You’re insane.”

Xander had prepared an entire wardrobe for me.

In his bedroom.

Apparently, he had been planning for my return before I even knew I was coming home.

That thought should have frightened me.

It did.

But the clothes were beautiful.

Unfortunately.

I picked up a mint-green two-piece set.

It was elegant and soft, exactly the kind of thing I liked.

I took it into the bathroom.

The bathroom was exactly like the rest of the house.

Dark.

Elegant.

Expensive.

Everything screamed Xander.

I showered.

The warm water helped.

By the time I stepped out, I felt calmer.

I changed into the mint-green outfit.

It fit perfectly.

Of course it did.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

Then I pulled out my phone.

I took several pictures of the closet.

Sent them to Caleb.

See what your brother did now.

His response came almost immediately.

WHOA, Princess.

Then:

That’s a LOT of clothes.

I smiled despite myself.

A whole wardrobe.

How did he even get your sizes?

I stared at the screen.

I don’t know.

Then I added:

He apparently built a new closet for me inside his room.

Caleb called.

I answered.

“You’re impressed, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Don’t be.”

“Why?”

“You weren’t there last night.”

He became quiet.

“You said if Xander came, you’d defend me.”

“Princess…”

“What?”

“My brother looked terrifying.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You could have tried.”

“I wanted to.”

“And?”

“And then I saw his face.”

I sighed.

“You’re useless.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No.”

I laughed.

Caleb laughed too.

Then I ended the call.

⸻

When I walked downstairs, Xander was standing near the window.

He turned.

And stopped.

His eyes landed on me.

This time, something was different.

His stare was still intense.

But it wasn’t cold.

There was something softer beneath it.

Something I didn’t understand.

His eyes moved over the mint-green outfit.

Then returned to my face.

“Why do I have so many clothes in your closet?” I asked.

He looked at me as though the answer were obvious.

“Those are your clothes.”

“I know.”

“I bought them.”

“Why?”

“In case you ever came here.”

I blinked.

“So I would have something proper to wear.”

The word proper made me raise an eyebrow.

As though I had been walking around naked before.

“Okay.”

He studied me again.

I looked down at myself.

“But what am I supposed to do here all day?”

“Rest.”

“Rest?”

“There’s a garden.”

He pointed toward the windows.

“A library.”

Then another direction.

“There’s a movie theater.”

I stared at him.

“You have a movie theater?”

“Yes.”

Of course he did.

“You can do whatever you want.”

I relaxed slightly.

“Except?”

“You’re not leaving the house today.”

There it was.

That finality again.

I sighed.

“Okay.”

He walked away.

I stood there for another moment.

I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t keep deciding things for me.

I wanted to tell him I was an adult.

I wanted to establish boundaries.

But somehow, whenever Xander spoke in that tone, all my carefully prepared arguments disappeared.

So I went outside.

⸻

The garden was beautiful.

I walked slowly along the pathways, taking everything in.

The house was enormous.

But the garden was my favorite part.

There were flowers everywhere.

A small fountain.

A quiet sitting area.

Trees arranged perfectly around the property.

Everything was elegant.

Peaceful.

Beautiful.

I walked farther.

Then stopped.

Something felt familiar.

I looked around.

The stone pathway.

The placement of the flowers.

The small garden bench beneath the tree.

Even the shape of the fountain.

I frowned.

Where had I seen something like this before?

Then I remembered.

Years ago.

High school.

I had been talking to Caleb about the kind of house I wanted someday.

I had described it.

Dark exterior.

Large windows.

A private garden.

A library.

A movie room.

A quiet sitting area surrounded by flowers.

I had even described the way I wanted the garden arranged.

I looked around Xander’s property.

It was strangely similar.

Almost too similar.

I shook my head.

That was impossible.

It was probably just coincidence.

Xander had always had expensive taste.

Maybe our ideas simply overlapped.

I pushed the thought away.

I continued walking.

I didn’t notice the figure standing by the upstairs window.

Didn’t see the dark eyes following me.

Didn’t know Xander was watching.

I simply kept walking through the garden, trying to convince myself that I was safe.

Trying to convince myself that today would be peaceful.

And, for the first time since returning home, I wondered whether I had made a mistake coming back.

Because something about Xander felt different now.

And somehow, I had the unsettling feeling that I was only beginning to discover how much of my life he had been quietly watching all these years.