The tension from the previous night still hung in the air like an echo that refused to die. Xander stood by the massive windows of his bedroom, watching the distant skyline with unreadable eyes. The moonlight had long since faded, and the first brush of sunlight kissed the tops of the buildings, golden and gentle. But peace was a fragile illusion. He knew what was coming.
He turned slightly when he heard the faint shuffling of footsteps in the hallway—Erin's light steps, hesitant yet determined. She had asked him a question earlier, her voice still lingering in his mind.
"Why would she say something like that? You didn't even touch her."
Her voice had been calm, but he had sensed the tension beneath. It hadn't escaped his notice how shaken she still was from the elevator. The image of her trembling in his arms, hiding her fear behind forced composure, flashed in his mind again. He had wanted to say something about it, to acknowledge it—but he hadn't.
Instead, he had told her quietly, "Don't worry. I've already informed them they can visit in the morning. We've both had enough for tonight."
To his surprise, she had nodded in agreement.
"Okay."
No smart retorts, no stubborn comebacks. Just silence—and something close to vulnerability. She had returned to the guest room afterward, curling up on the couch again, even though the bed was right there. It bothered him more than he'd admit. But he'd let it slide.
Now, as the sound of tires screeching outside pierced the quiet morning, Xander sighed. They were here.
Moments later, raised voices shattered the morning calm.
"XANDER!!!"
The name rang through the marble halls like a thunderclap. Xander took his time heading downstairs, but Erin—already dressed—fell into step beside him.
The front doors were wide open, and in strode Lord and Lady Thornwell, their expressions dark and stormy.
"You dare humiliate our daughter and not even have the decency to face us last night?" Lady Thornwell snapped.
"She said she was assaulted, and this is the welcome we get?" Lord Thornwell boomed. His eyes narrowed the moment they landed on Erin.
"And this," Lady Thornwell sneered, "is the girl you had your hands on at the event? The little seductress?"
Xander's jaw flexed.
"Watch your tone," he said calmly.
"Don't tell us how to speak!" Lord Thornwell thundered. "You are betrothed to our daughter. This is a matter of honor. You disgrace the bond between our families—publicly. You let this maid embarrass her?"
Erin's face remained neutral, but Xander could feel her stiffen beside him.
"And where were your manners when you kicked Lillianne out like a common criminal?" Lady Thornwell continued, stepping forward. "Do you realize the scandal this has caused? She's sobbing herself sick—our daughter, the future Lady of the kingdom."
"She spiked my drink, at least she tried to." Xander said plainly.
"That's not true!" Lady Thornwell gasped.
"Like he said, she tried to," Erin corrected softly. "I threw it away."
Lady Thornwell turned on her. "Oh so now you're in 'he' terms with him huh. Shouldn't you be calling him sir. I guess you already got comfortable around him right? You! You think you can slither your way into his life and make a claim where you have no right? Do you even know your place?"
"Enough."
This time, Xander's voice was sharp. "You came here for a discussion. If you're just here to insult my employee, you can turn around and leave."
"Employee?" Lord Thornwell laughed bitterly. "Is that what you call her now? Because to everyone at that event, it looked like something far more personal."
He stepped forward. "If you think you can use this… this girl to shame us into backing down, you're mistaken. If you dare try to cancel the engagement again—just once more—we'll pull every investor we have. Your family may be royal, but even kings can bleed if they're cut deep enough."
He turned his gaze to Erin and said "If you don't stay away from my daughter's betrothed, and you try to use him to climb up the ladder, you'll feel sorry for yourself, you filthy little whore."
Erin shifted her weight slightly. She didn't look surprised by the threat—if anything, she looked resigned.
But what twisted the knife deeper was that Xander said nothing.
Not a word in her defense. Not even a flicker of disagreement.
Erin lowered her eyes, and something hardened in her expression. She didn't retreat, didn't speak—but she didn't expect anything else.
"Lillianne is turning eighteen soon," Lady Thornwell said coldly. "And as tradition dictates, her birthday marks the official engagement ceremony. You'll be there. And you'll be hers."
With a dramatic swirl of her expensive cloak, she turned.
Lord Thornwell stared at Xander one last time. "Get your house in order."
The moment they left, silence fell.
Erin turned to head upstairs.
"Erin," Xander called.
She paused but didn't look at him.
"I'll explain everything," he said.
"Don't bother," she replied without emotion. "They made themselves clear. And so did you."
She vanished up the stairs, leaving Xander alone in the entrance hall.
He clenched his fists. The silence of the mansion now felt suffocating.
But worse than that was the realization in his chest:
He had hurt her—and she was starting to slip further out of his reach. Anyway why did he care. That's what he wanted after all. For her to stay away from him.