I flick my gaze to Gloria and then my sisters, taking in the worship-like expressions on their faces. I stand corrected:thisis the moment they’ve fallen in love with Xavier.
Ben watches, a smug and amused smile playing about his lips. He catches my attention and dips his head in a “told you so” way. I grin and roll my eyes.
The slices of turkey are piled neatly on the serving platter, each piece as flawless as the last. Xavier completes the task with a flourish, setting the knife down and lifting the platter for all to see.
“Voilà,” he announces with a slight bow, his eyes meeting mine for a fleeting moment, filled with a playful glint that suggests he’s well aware of the effect his performance has had on everyone. Then he mouths, “I love you.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head while my sisters and foster mom sigh, batting their lashes.
There’s a round of applause from everyone at the table, and even I can’t help but join in, my heart swelling with a mixture of pride and affection. Xavier has shown me another layer in the complex, intriguing man that I’m falling for.
This is the best Thanksgiving in my entire life.
Chapter 41
XAVIER
The road unfurls before me under the moonlight as I ride my motorcycle toward the Donovan mansion, the cool air sharp against my skin. The building emerges from the darkness, the perimeter well-lit, a looming presence that’s both a home and fortress to my parents.
I kill the engine at the end of the long drive, the sound dying away in the stillness of the night. Stepping off the bike, I pull off my helmet and shake out my hair, steeling myself as I ascend the wide marble steps to the front door. It swings open before I can reach for the handle.
Edward Donovan stands there, his silhouette framed by the golden light spilling from the grand foyer. “Xavier.”
“Father.”
“Come inside. I want a full report.”
His anticipation is strong enough for him to answer the door himself instead of allowing the butler to do it. Inside the house, the air is heavy with the scent of old wood and power. We move to his study, a room lined with dark shelves burdened with books and artifacts that speak of centuries of Donovan influence and intrigue.
I report in concise detail, recounting the mission’s execution, and end with, “The tech is in place as planned in all five locations.”
My father listens, his expression unreadable. “And the surveillance?”
“Fully operational. We’re already receiving data. It’ll provide us with continuous intel on the Gages’ operations.”
“Any issues?”
I nod. “We encountered a minor resistance but neutralized it without any compromise to our objective.”
A hint of satisfaction flickers across his features. “Good.” My father pauses, then his gaze sharpens, the next order of business casting a sinister veil across his face. “Now, we must discuss the third Trial. It’s approaching quickly.”
I nod, the weight of his expectations settling on my shoulders.
“The McKenzie heir must live,” he says slowly, the gravity in his tone drawing my full attention. “With his family’s tech, we can utilize power that our rivals won’t have access to, giving us an extreme advantage. The monopoly on the tech would not only solidify my empire’s top position but could also be used as leverage in negotiations, trade agreements, or power plays within the criminal underworld. Think of the possibilities, son.”
He starts pacing back and forth, his voice charged with growing enthusiasm and aggression as he speaks. Although I want to remind him that I already know all of this, I remain quiet. The last time I interrupted my father, it didn’t end well.
“In our world, perception is often as important as reality,” he says. “By securing a technological edge, my reputation as an untouchable leader would be irrefutable. This perception could serve as a deterrent against future thefts or betrayals, particularly from the Gages. It would reinforce the fear and respect that’s crucial in maintaining control and obediencewithin and around my empire. Not only that, but I could rule the Order.”
I stiffen, careful to keep my expression neutral, despite the unease coiling around me. To challenge the Order is to seek destruction. Either my father thinks he’s invincible, or he’s so delusional that he can’t see the death sentence he’s embracing with arms wide open.
His gaze is intense as it locks onto mine, a calculating gleam behind his eyes. The air in the study is stifling, heavy with the power he wields over me.
“I understand the importance of the McKenzie heir,” I say carefully, my voice even but firm. “As I’ve done in the past, I’ll ensure his safety.”
My father nods, apparently satisfied with my response, but I can tell his mind is still racing with plans and contingencies. “We can’t afford any mistakes, not with so much at stake.”
He walks over to sit in his desk chair, steepling his fingers as his eyes momentarily drift to the array of historical artifacts lining the room. Each piece is a testament to the Donovan legacy of conquest and control. The very dynasty my father’s ambitions threaten to destroy.
