Chapter 41 – Xavier
Two Weeks Later
Rubbing the temple tip of my glasses over my bottom lip, I leaned into my leather chair and stared out my study window. Whether I was unsettled or not, one thing was certain, Mikaela’s behavior since the night of the ball almost two weeks ago left my mind in a tailspin. Although she joined me for dinner every evening and her conversation was minimal as usual, she’d taken to having lunch in the garden. That wasn’t what concerned me, rather her lengthy disappearances during those luncheons.
Since her arrival, I’d casually introduced joining her for lunch every day. At first, it was to keep her calm and get her to eat until it became a daily non-negotiable routine that I had Jodie plug into my calendar.
The first day Mikaela disappeared, I assumed she’d gone for a walk and forgot the time. Ramone hadn’t reported anything unusual, so I knew she was safe. Unless she was indoors, he was instructed to follow her everywhere. The second day left me a tad more curious. Still, she said nothing at dinner. By the fourth, I became nervous, especially when Ramone hadn’t elaborated beyond,‘she went for a walk, sir.’The man worked under Wilkes, so it wasn’t a case of distrust but suspicion that somehow Mikaela had gotten him to lie for her.
What are you up to, love?
“Father.” Saint entered my study, distracting me from my mental ramblings.
I set my specs down on top of the document I’d tried to read for the last hour and stood. “Are you heading back?” Levana had left for San Francisco three days after the ball courtesy of practical exams she needed to submit, while Saint stayed to finish lectures at the college he sometimes offered. Now, he was leaving to bring her back on the jet. He never liked her to travel alone.
“Yes, but I need you to see something before I go.”
“What is it?”
“It’s better if you see it for yourself.” His blank expression gave nothing away.
Rising, I rolled up my shirt sleeves as I followed him. “Where’s Mikaela?” I’d seen them chatting in the library earlier and left them to it.
This time he offered me one of his usual smirks that passed for a smile. My son was a studious man who rarely laughed, yet watching him with Levana, I knew I’d done the right thing sending him to her.
“When last did you play?” he asked instead.
I chuckled, knowing to what he referred. “It’s been a while. Why the sudden interest?” I lifted a brow. “What are you up to, son?”
“Not me.” He gestured with his chin toward the room further down the passage where we taught the submissive classes.
Several years ago, we introduced additional classes to those who’d shown remarkable talent, inviting them to the castle for a three-week session. Some considered it a privilege, most saw it as a chance to explore my so-called spooky home we rarely opened to visitors. While it did not impact our personal lives, classes, and students were restricted to the west wing.
I glanced at my watch. “Isn’t there a class in session?” He nodded, grinning. My curiosity piqued, I lengthened my strides. Just as we reached the room, Saint hung back. I paused to look at him. “You’re not coming?”
“I think you need to do this alone.” When I hesitated, he added, “Trust me, father?”
With a nod, I entered the room, my steps immediately freezing just inside the door, my gaze riveted on the stage up front. The vision of Mikaela kneeling, body in perfect submissive form with her knees spread apart, back straight, chest out, her hands on her thighs palms up, her head held high, eyes down, and her hair braided in a single plait down her back, woke every atom of the Dom I’d worked hard to suppress around this woman, more out of fear that I’d drive her away than the repercussions of her hate.
I glanced around the room as several heads turned my way, students and teachers alike. Jasper and Tyrone, the senior instructors, wore expressions of total disbelief while Juliette, who’d probably come in to teach a lesson, smiled. When I’d discussed Mikaela’s situation with them, they all agreed she wouldn’t be a suitable submissive or that she was unlikely to save. Her pain and distrust were too far gone to bring back easily.
My gaze still fixed on the stage, I neared the others. “How?” It was the only word I could form without coming across as a startled teenager seeing a naked woman for the first time.
“She walked in at the tail end of the previous class for about a week and a half, sat at the back of the class, and didn’t say a word,” Juliette replied. “We left her to it since she didn’t ask any questions, speak to anyone or join the discussion. You weren’t aware?”
Still mesmerized by her perfect form, I slowly shook my head. “I had no idea.”
