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With one last glance at me, she leaves.

Chapter 24

Camila

Part of me wanted to stay and see how the situation unravels. The other needed to get out. Too many bad memories were resurfacing watching those officers raid DL. Luckily, none of them wanted to question me.

Xander is intense. Intense in a way I’ve never felt before. Waking up and being chained to the bed was an unorthodox feeling.

It made heat burn in my core. But I couldn’t show it to Xander. It’s that broken piece of me that will never fully heal that enjoyed it. And maybe it’s because whenever Xander is near me, I feel safe. Protected. A feeling I’ve never felt with anyone.

Xander isn’t Luke. He’s powerful. And he’s going after something that he clearly already claimed as his.

Me.

And I can’t ignore the undeniable pull towards him. Every thought of Luke I have just disappears when he’s around. Which is scary as much as it is… freeing.

Phone service going down last night was a blessing in disguise. After the final—and as usual, threatening—text he sent me, I was free of him for the rest of the night. It meant I could focus on getting to know Xander—or what little he told me of himself.

I still don’t know if I can put my full trust in him. He’s still a stranger and my boss. He might turn out to be a complete psychopath.

What if next time I’m chained up in the boot of his McLaren?

Shaking my head out of those thoughts, I pull out of the car park, passing the police cars parked outside the club, blocking the exits. Xander’s scent still clings to the interior. No matter where I go, I’m constantly reminded of him.

I round the corner and see the officers filing out, followed by a smug-looking one with the shaved head and a very pissed-off Xander, who’s throwing daggers into the back of his head. Jacques follows behind them, hands in his trouser pockets and his blazer tucked behind his arms. Perfect image of another powerful man.

Trust me to escape one drug dealer and get involved with another.

They must not have found anything in their search, or they would be led out in handcuffs. I’ve seen that sight one too many times. But none of those times saved me from Luke returning to make my life hell.

Xander’s eyes catch the sight of my car, and he glances over, a soft smile gracing his face as I pass them. I check my rearview mirror to see he’s stopped in the middle of the granite stairs, watching as I fade out of view.

Always watching.

I drag myself up the block stairs to the sixth floor of my flat. Just my luck, the lift is broken, and it’ll probably take them weeks to fix it.

Pushing through the door that separates the stairs from the main hallway, I turn left to my apartment. There’s a white, medium-sized box sitting on the floor.

Right in front of my door.

My heart rate accelerates as I stop in my tracks.

Searching around the hall, I don’t find anyone lurking. I peek through the small window to the staircase—also empty.

I whip my head back to the box as my palms sweat inside Xander’s jumper sleeves.

There’s no way Luke was here. He wouldn’t waste his time with ‘gifts’; he’d be breaking in—and upon realising I wasn’t home, he’d be looking for me and blowing up my phone with phone calls.

“Shit,” I mutter as a faint sensation washes over me, the room tilting on its axis.

Swallowing past the awful dryness in my throat, I take careful steps towards the box, my knees trembling, threatening to throw me off balance.

He’s near. Too close.

I should’ve left when I had the chance.

I don’t even notice I’ve reached my door until my foot kicks the box. It’s wrapped in a silky, deep green ribbon.