AT THE SAME TIME
XAVIER
The sterile hum of the machines grated on me as I sat in Mercer's private lab, sleeves rolled up, the faint sting of the blood draw still lingering. The man avoided my gaze, focusing on vials and charts, as if science could shield him from me.
"You've always known my levels are low." I said flatly, breaking the silence. "But low isn't the same as zero. I want specifics. Percentages. Probabilities."
Mercer adjusted his glasses nervously, double checking the screen.
"Mr. Stoneheart… your count is below natural conception thresholds. We've discussed this before. Statistically-"He started.
I leaned forward, my voice sharp, quiet enough to make him sweat.
"Don't insult me with statistics. What matters is what can be done. And what you will do." I ordered.
The man stiffened, his eyes flicking to the monitor, then back to me.
"There are ways… assisted methods, of course. But it's-"He started.
"Good." I cut in. "Then you'll refine them. Optimize them. Whatever it takes. She will carry my child."
The finality in my tone made his shoulders sag. He knew resistance was pointless. He scribbled something on his clipboard, muttering under his breath, but his hand trembled just enough for me to notice.
"Run the numbers again." I ordered, rising to my feet, straightening my jacket. "And don't bore me with doubts. Bring me solutions."
Without waiting for a reply, I left. Hours later, the antiseptic tang of the clinic was replaced by the warm spice of evening air as I stepped into the streets of Cherry Blossom Sanctuary. The town was quaint, quieter than the cities I was used to. Easier to control, easier to bend. And there she was. Isabella. Her hair caught the fading light, her figure wrapped in a soft coat as she carried a paper bag from the corner store. She wasn't watching her steps, lost in her own thoughts, when fate or rather, me guided us into collision. The bag slipped from her hand, apples scattering across the pavement.
"Oh!" She gasped, crouching down. I was already there, kneeling beside her, scooping one up before it rolled into the street.
"Seems I have a habit of finding you in this town." I said smoothly, handing it back.
Her eyes met mine, a flash of recognition softened by something gentler.
"Mr. Stoneheart… again."She muttered.
I gave her a faint smile, carefully controlled.
"Call it coincidence. Or maybe the town is just smaller than I realized."I said.
She laughed softly, nervous, but genuine.
"Or maybe you're following me." She teased, unaware how close she was to the truth.
I let the joke hang, smiling just enough to keep her comfortable.
"Would it be such a bad thing if I were?"I asked.
Her cheeks flushed faintly as she looked away, gathering the last apple.
"I suppose not. It's… nice, actually. To have someone to talk to."She said.
I tucked my hands into my pockets, watching her carefully. Every word, every flicker of expression was data to me. She doesn't see it yet. But she will. Soon.
"Then." I said gently, tilting my head toward the café down the street. "Let me buy you a coffee. At the very least, it will make up for nearly running into you twice now."
Her hesitation lasted only a heartbeat before she nodded.
"Alright… coffee sounds nice."She said softly.
And just like that, the game shifted another step in my favor.
AT THE SAME TIME
ISABELLA
The cafe smelled of roasted beans and cinnamon, a cozy sort of warmth that made the quiet evening feel less heavy. I wrapped my hands around the mug, letting the steam fog my glasses slightly before taking a sip. Across from me, Xavier leaned back, effortless in his tailored shirt, eyes fixed on me in that way that made it hard to look away. He smiled faintly.
"So… you mentioned you're starting over. That must've been a hard choice."He said.
I shifted, the mug warm against my palms.
"It wasn't really a choice. Richard made it for me."I said.
His brow furrowed just enough, not in pity, but in something sharper.
"Richard?"He asked.
"My ex-husband." I said softly. Even saying it still stung. "We were together for years, and then one day he decided that wasn't enough. My stepsister was… more exciting. So, you can imagine how that ended. Divorce papers signed, everything gone. They're probably sipping champagne somewhere right now."
Xavier's hand tightened around his glass, knuckles paling for just a second before he relaxed. His smile returned, smooth, deliberate.
"You deserved better than that."He said.
I shrugged, eyes dropping to my coffee.
"I only ever wanted one thing. A family. A child. But Richard… he didn't want that. He wanted fun. Freedom. And now he has it."I said.
There was a pause, heavy and quiet. I felt his gaze linger, steady and unflinching, and when I finally looked up, there was something fierce in his eyes I couldn't place.
"You'll have it." He said. "The family you wanted. The child. Some men throw away what they don't understand, but not everyone is blind, Isabella."
Across from me, Xavier leaned back in his chair, his posture deceptively relaxed, though there was something about him that never felt truly at ease. Like every move was calculated. Still… sitting here with him, I felt something I hadn't in months safe, seen. I took another sip, the warmth spreading through me, easing some of the tightness in my chest.
"You're easy to talk to." I admitted suddenly, surprising even myself. "It's… strange. Usually, I keep this kind of thing bottled up. But with you… I don't know. It feels different."
His lips curved faintly, not quite a smirk, not quite a smile. Something quieter.
"That's good. Everyone deserves at least one person who'll actually listen."He said.
My cheeks warmed. I pressed my fingers around the mug, grounding myself in the heat. Why am I so open with him? It felt reckless. Dangerous, even. Yet, comforting all the same. Before I could say anything else, the sharp buzz of his phone broke the fragile bubble between us. He glanced at the screen, jaw tightening just slightly before he answered.
"Stoneheart." He said smoothly, voice shifting into that polished business tone I'd only ever heard from men who owned entire boardrooms.
A pause, then he rose from his chair with a grace that drew eyes, even in the cozy little cafe. His gaze flicked to me as he placed the phone to his ear, and for the briefest second, I thought I saw reluctance.
"Yes." He said into the receiver, already stepping away toward the door. "Handle it until I arrive. No mistakes. I'll be there shortly."
The words were curt, controlled, spoken like commands rather than conversation.
"I have to go, talk to you soon."He said.
"I understand, see you soon."I said and smiled.
He only gave me the faintest tilt of his head, almost like an apology, before walking out, his long stride precise, purposeful. The bell above the door jingled softly, and then he was gone. I sat there, staring at the empty chair across from me, feeling a strange hollowness in my chest. It was ridiculous we'd only been here an hour, sipping coffee and talking about the kind of things I'd usually keep buried deep. Yet somehow, I felt… lighter. I lifted my mug again, smiling faintly into the steam.
"Thank you." I whispered to no one in particular. For listening.
For not looking at me with pity. For making me feel, if only for a moment, like I wasn't broken. When I finished the last sip, I found myself almost looking forward to bumping into him again. Almost. But the strangest part? As I walked home with the night air brushing against my cheeks, I realized I was smiling. Really smiling. And I hadn't done that in a very long time.