Autho's POV____
She stared at him, blood rushing in her ears. Not from fear.
From realization.
She had known exactly who he was.
From the moment he asked her to dance.
The man lay at her feet — or what was left of him. A clean shot. Between the eyes. No hesitation.
Blood spread like ink across the marble floor, catching the light of the ballroom's final flickering chandelier. Screams hadn't started yet. Not fully. People froze, unsure whether to run or bow.
Xavier didn't move.
Gun still in hand. Expression unreadable. Eyes locked on hers. Cold blue flame. Unforgiving.
That was the last word she could use to describe his eyes.
But then he moved.
Swift. Silent.
He came toward her, not like a predator this time —
but like a man who just watched someone he almost lost. "Rose," he said.
Her name on his lips didn't sound like a warning anymore. It sounded like a question. A plea.
She didn't answer. She couldn't. Her breath was locked somewhere in her chest, trapped beneath the weight of everything that just happened.
Then—he reached out. Carefully. Like she might shatter.
His gloved hand hovered near her cheek, but didn't touch — not until she tilted her head, eyes still dazed, lips slightly parted.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, voice low... almost fragile. Fragile. From him.
Xavier Blackwood.
She didn't recognize this version of him. Neither did the room, which seemed to hold its breath.
____Private Room — A Few Minutes Later
She sat on the edge of an antique couch, eyes still locked on the floor. The room was quiet — distant from the chaos outside. No guards. No noise.
He'd brought her here.
He knelt in front of her, fingers brushing lightly over her arms, her shoulders — checking for wounds.
His touch was feather-light. Like she was made of porcelain. "Rose," he said again. "Look at me."
Her lashes fluttered. Slowly, she did.
And that's when she saw it.
Worry. Raw. Undeniable. Cracking through his usual ice. "I'm not..." Her voice came out hoarse. "I'm not hurt."
He didn't move away. Just reached for a crystal glass on the table, poured water, and held it out — not like a host.
Like a man offering peace. She didn't take it.
So, without a word, he brought the glass of water gently to her lips.
Cool drops touched her mouth. She parted them slightly, and he tilted the glass closer, letting her drink — from his hand.
Her throat worked around the sip. Her eyes never left his.
Xavier's POV_____
I should've walked away.
That's what I always do. Stay in control. Mind my own business. Keep the world at arm's length.
But the moment I saw Rose flinch, saw her eyes widen in fear— not of me, but of someone else—I lost it. My rules. My logic. My restraint.
Gone.
I'd seen blood before. I'd caused it. But this time... it was different. It felt personal.
No one touches her. No one scares her.
I didn't even realize I was holding my breath until I saw her sit down, her hands trembling slightly around the glass I gave her.
Now I was just... sitting beside her. Quietly. "Admiring her."
Not because of her beauty—though hell, it was impossible to ignore—but because she had this fire. This raw, dangerous softness that made even a man like me pause.
And for the first time in a long time... I didn't want to be anywhere else.
I've never wanted to stay. Never felt the urge to protect. Never felt the burn in my chest that whispered, She's yours. Keep her safe.
But I did now.
I reached out, slowly—just to brush her shoulder, maybe tuck that wild strand of hair behind her ear. Something. Anything to feel like I could touch calm again.
But before my fingers could make contact, the room door burst open.
Bang.
Rose flinched.
And just like that, the moment shattered.
Her parents rushed in, frantic and breathless. I recognized the fear in their eyes—it mirrored mine when I'd seen her in danger.
Her mother wrapped Rose in her arms instantly, checking every inch of her, muttering words too fast to catch. But it was her father who made me pause.
That man—the one who wore power like a tailored suit— stepped into the room like a storm.
His eyes met mine.
Cold. Calculating. Dangerous.
The same way I must've looked when I dealt with the men who laid a finger on Rose.
And for a single breath, we stood there in silence. Two kings in a room that couldn't hold both.
I didn't say a word. Just stepped back, jaw clenched.
Then I quietly slipped out of the room.
Before it got worse.
Before I did something reckless.
Before I forgot again who she was—and who I was supposed to be.
Rose's POV______
I felt him near me. Too near.
His presence was like a storm without sound—heavy, intense, unavoidable.
I could feel his breath graze my shoulder, warm and steady, sending a shiver right down my spine. His scent—dark, expensive, intoxicating—wrapped around me like invisible chains.
Something twisted in my stomach.
A strange pull. A flutter I didn't ask for.
Then I felt it—a shift. A movement.
He leaned in closer, his hand lifting gently toward me, fingers brushing a strand of hair that had fallen across my cheek.
It wasn't just a touch. It was a whisper of something forbidden. But before he could finish—
Bang.
The door burst open, making me flinch.
"Rose!" my mother's voice broke through, panicked and trembling.
She rushed to me, cradling my face, checking me like I was made of porcelain about to crack. I could hear her questions— Are you hurt? What happened? Are you okay?—but I couldn't answer.
Because I wasn't looking at her.
I was looking at him.
Xavier.
Standing still, a storm behind his eyes. But this time, the storm wasn't for me.
He was staring at my father.
And my father... was staring back.
Their gazes collided like lightning striking steel—sharp, dangerous, full of history and hate. It was silent, but it was loud enough to make the room feel colder.
And in that moment... I knew.
The way my father stiffened. The way Xavier's jaw clenched.
He wasn't just some stranger.
He wasn't just the man who saved me.
He was him.
The King. The merciless, feared ruler of the Blackwood mafia. The man my father had sworn to destroy.
Xavier Blackwood. My enemy.
He left a few moments later.
Without a word. Without a glance back.
And I was left sitting between two worlds... One I was born into.
And one I wasn't sure I wanted to leave.
My mother sat beside me, holding my hands like she thought I might vanish if she let go. My father stood rigid by the door, arms crossed, jaw locked, his eyes not on me—but on the space where he had stood just moments ago.
Xavier Blackwood.
That name echoed in my mind like a warning bell.
"Rose," my mother whispered, brushing hair from my face. "You're sure you're not hurt? He didn't... do anything?"
I blinked. "No. He... he helped me."
That made my father snap his attention to me. "Helped you?" His voice was low, sharp—like he was holding back an explosion.
I looked at him, unsure how to even explain it.
"He was there when the man came. He killed him. Protected me."
"Protected?" he repeated, as if the word offended him. "That man doesn't protect. He destroys."
My heart pounded. "But he didn't. Not me." I said in my mind. My mother glanced between us, worry written in every line of
her face. "Darling... do you know who he is?" I nodded slowly. "I do now."
My father's eyes narrowed. "And what did he say to you? What did he do to you?"
"He didn't say anything," I said quietly. "He just... sat with me."
Silence.
Then he turned away from me, muttering to himself. "He knows who she is... damn it. Of course he does. This isn't coincidence."
"What does that mean?" I asked, my voice firming. My father didn't answer.
But my mother did. Her voice was soft, hesitant. "Nothing my darling just try to stay away from him okay?.....hmmm!."
I looked between them, pulse racing.
And for the first time, I realized something:
They weren't just afraid for me. They were afraid of him.
Afraid of what he might take.
And what I might be willing to give.
Now I'm more curious to know about you "Mr. Xavier blackwood"
The name tasted like fire and honey in my mind. Deadly. Addictive.
I slipped away from my parents' watchful eyes that night. Their voices faded behind the closed door of my room, but their warnings echoed louder in my chest.
I should've been afraid. I should've been furious. Instead... I was drawn in.
There was something about the way he looked at me. Not like a pawn. Not like a target. But like a riddle he couldn't solve—and wanted to.
I walked to the window, the moonlight spilling across the floor like silver secrets.
Who are you really, Xavier?
The one who kills without mercy?
Or the one who sat beside me like I was something fragile... sacred?
My fingers tightened on the curtain. I knew his reputation. I'd heard the stories whispered in the dark.
But stories don't hold your gaze the way he did. Stories don't make your heart skip and stumble. He did.
If my father was right, Xavier was the enemy.
But enemies don't protect you.
Enemies don't stare at you like you're the last bit of light left in their world.
And something inside me—something wild and reckless— whispered...
Maybe I need to see him again.
Not because I trust him.
But because I don't trust myself to forget him.
"The game of chase and hiding had begun. Unspoken, unwelcome, yet impossible to resist."
________________________________________
Inkedbystifi
"And that's where I'll leave them for now... tell me, what did your heart feel in this chapter?"
"Did this chapter leave a scar or a smile? I'd love to hear your thoughts below."
"So... what are you thinking right now? Share your heart with mine in the comments."