The elevator barely closed before Xavier's hand wrapped around Sasha's wrist.
He wasn't rough - not exactly. But there was urgency in his touch. A storm behind every step as he pulled her toward the stairs, both of them still breathless, lips swollen from the kiss in the car, chests rising and falling like they'd just escaped a wildfire.
He opened the door to the penthouse like he owned the air itself. And maybe he did.
Sasha stumbled in, trying to steady herself, her fingers still tingling from where they'd dug into his back just minutes ago.
The door slammed shut behind them.
Silence.
Thick. Charged.
She turned to face him - and he was already watching her. Not with his usual ice.
This was something else.
Something desperate.
"I shouldn't want you," he said quietly. His voice was hoarse, like it hurt him to admit it. "I tried not to."
Sasha's heart stopped.
His hands were fists at his side, jaw tight, but his eyes - they betrayed him. Dark and burning.
She opened her mouth, but no words came.
"I don't say things I don't mean," he said, stepping closer. "So listen to me when I say this... because I might never be able to say it again."
She swallowed.
Hard.
"I want you," he said, barely above a whisper. "Not for one night. Not to forget. Not to ruin."
His chest heaved. "I want you, Sasha Hart. And it's driving me out of my fucking mind."
She froze.
"I-Xavier, you don't have to-"
"I do," he cut in, his voice sharp, but not cruel. "I don't know what the hell this is, but I can't breathe without thinking about you. I see you, and I forget every rule I made for myself."
Her eyes stung. Her throat was tight. "I didn't ask you to feel that way-"
"I know," he said, softer now. "But I do."
And then he kissed her again.
God.
He kissed her like it was the last thing he'd ever do - lips crashing against hers, hands buried in her hair, backing her up until the couch caught her knees and they sank together. She gasped into his mouth as his hands roamed, exploring the curves he'd only touched through silk and restraint.
He tugged her blouse free, sliding it down her shoulders with a growl that vibrated in his throat. Her bra was the only thing in the way now - and even that seemed too much.
Sasha moaned, arching into him, her body burning under his palms. Her skin tingled where he touched her - possessed her - and her hands found his shirt, clawing it open to reveal the tattoo that curled along his left shoulder.
She stared at it, dazed.
It looked like pain and purpose, inked deep into skin that had seen too much war.
"Xavier..."
His name escaped her lips again as he kissed down her neck, his mouth hot and open.
But just when his hand slid to her thigh - gripping it tight - just when she was ready to let go, ready to fall completely-
The front door burst open.
"What the f-"
"Sasha?"
Xavier's body tensed over hers.
Sasha gasped, scrambling upright, shirt half-off, cheeks flaming.
Cody stood there.
And beside him - Sophia.
Tall. Smirking. Dressed like she owned the night.
The air turned electric with shock.
Then silence.
Until Cody's voice broke it.
"X... sorry to ruin the fun, man," he said carefully. "But your father... he's back."
Xavier didn't blink.
Didn't move.
But something shifted behind his eyes.
A flicker.
A flash of something deep and raw.
Rage?
Fear?
Sasha looked between them, confused.
Cody ran a hand through his hair, glancing at her briefly, then back at Xavier.
"You heard me," he said, voice lower now. "Your father's in town."
Sophia smiled. "And he wants to see you."
Xavier stared at nothing for a long, frozen moment.
Then he whispered-
"...Fuck."
"Are you out of your fucking mind?!"
Sophia's voice cracked through the penthouse like lightning, sharp and venom-laced. Her stilettos clicked dangerously against the marble floor as she stormed forward, eyes wild with disbelief, mouth twisted in rage.
"You brought her here?" she hissed, gesturing at Sasha, who was still frozen on the couch, blouse barely hanging from one shoulder. "You fucked your secretary?! In our penthouse?"
Xavier slowly rose to his feet.
His expression?
Stone.
"I don't have time for your theatrics tonight, Sophia," he said calmly, but there was something dangerous simmering beneath his voice.
"You're unbelievable!" she spat. "You didn't answer your phone all day, and now I walk in and find you on top of your whore!"
Sasha flinched at the word.
"Don't," Xavier snapped, his voice cutting. "Don't speak to her like that."
"Oh, so now you defend her?" Sophia laughed bitterly, eyes glassy. "After everything? After your father's warning-after everything we were supposed to be?"
"There is no we, Sophia," he said. "There never was. You and I-whatever our parents arranged, whatever fantasy you built in your head-it was never real. And if you want to throw a fit, do it elsewhere."
Sophia blinked.
Staggered.
Her chest heaved as she struggled to process the coldness in his voice.
"But I-Xavier, I love you," she whispered, as if saying it out loud would make it true.
Xavier didn't even flinch.
He turned his gaze to Sasha, still breathless and frozen near the couch, eyes darting between them.
"Sasha," he said firmly. "Go upstairs."
She hesitated. "Xavier-"
"Please," he added, voice softer now. "My room. I'll explain everything to you. Just... not here. Not in front of this circus."
Her chest tightened.
So much unsaid.
So much she didn't understand.
But she nodded, slowly. Quietly. Hugging her arms to her chest as she brushed past Sophia-who shot her a venomous glare-and walked toward the hallway.
Sophia scoffed loudly behind her. "Unbelievable. You're replacing me with that? She's nothing. She's no one."
Sasha paused at the foot of the stairs but didn't turn around.
She just kept walking.
Each step away felt heavier than the last.
As she disappeared into the shadows of his hallway, she heard Xavier's voice one last time-
Low. Cold.
"Get out, Sophia. Now."