The morning sun didn't bring any warmth; it just exposed the grit and the stains the storm had left behind. The rain had cleared by dawn, leaving the mansion shrouded in a thick, gray fog that rolled off the grounds and pressed against the windows of Xavier's study.
I didn't sleep. I hadn't even taken off my heels. I spent the entire night pacing the perimeter of my bedroom, listening to the heavy, synchronized footsteps of the guards Xavier had posted outside my door like a warden. The second I heard the locks click open at 6:00 AM, I was down the stairs before the guard could even clear the path.
Xavier was already at his desk, a glass of dark espresso in front of him that looked completely untouched. He had changed into a clean black button-down, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, revealing the fresh, purple bruising across his knuckles.
"You look like hell," I said, leaning against the doorframe with my arms crossed over my chest.
