The night air outside Xavier Thorne's estate was still, heavy with the scent of pine and rain. Xavier stood by the window of his office, a half finished glass of whiskey in hand, his reflection fractured in the dark pane.
For hours, a strange unease had been gnawing at him… a restless pull in his chest that refused to quiet. He had tried to ignore it, burying himself in reports, emails, and meaningless paperwork. But every few minutes, his thoughts circled back to her.
Athena.
He exhaled slowly, fingers tightening around the glass. "You're being ridiculous," he muttered to himself. "She's fine. You're just…"
His gaze flicked toward his phone on the desk. The last message he'd sent her still sat there, unread.
No reply.
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
He wasn't the type to admit it, but her silence unsettled him far more than it should have. He tried to convince himself it was irritating… frustration at being ignored… not the faint, instinctive fear crawling through his veins.
