POV: Xavier
The truth was a loaded gun. Xavier had carried it for two days, the weight of it distorting every interaction, making the polished corridors of the hotel feel like a funhouse of lies. He watched Charlotte from a distance. Saw her in meetings, a study in controlled competence. Saw her reviewing a marketing campaign for the hotel’s anniversary, her fingers tracing the Hale crest on the mock-up with an unconscious possessiveness that now screamed its meaning.He could no longer watch. The secret was acid, burning a hole in his restraint. He needed to see her face when she knew.He chose her office, not his. It was a statement. She was in her element, behind a sleek desk that was all modern angles and glass, a contrast to the old-world opulence of the estate. The view was of the cit
