Rage burned in his eyes–dark, blood–red fury barely held back by restraint.
Avery had already sold off everything the Lane family owned in the States and vanished overseas. There was no trace of
her anywhere. No leads. No trail.
All Xavier had left was this bloated coward–the last person to have made contact with her. A vulgar wannabe mogul who had cozied up to the Ford family for years, waiting to rise.
“You’ve lost your damn mind, Xavier!” the man spat, already black and blue.
This was supposed to be the man’s birthday party. The guest list was packed with underground heavyweights. And yet Xavier stormed in like a wrecking ball, trashing everything without warning or apology.
Even a man like him had limits.
“You’re the one who said it!” the man roared. “They’re yours tonight. Do what you want–she’s not my concern!‘ You think
we’d forget that?! She was a virgin! You married her five fucking years ago and never touched her. What, can’t get it up?!”
The words landed like a knife straight to Xavier’s spine.
He froze. Stunned. Dazed.
And the man took full advantage, landing a heavy punch that knocked Xavier straight to the ground,
He didn’t get up. His ears rang, his thoughts crashing like waves.
Those words echoed like a curse, and for one paralyzing moment, he couldn’t tell if it had been shouted aloud or
whispered from the dark corners of his mind.
Had he really said that?
“No–no,” Xavier gasped, voice cracking. “I told you to scare her. That was it. That was all…”
He was shouting now. Unraveling. Every inch of his carefully constructed control blown apart.
The bodyguards who’d handled “the job” that night were dragged in, pale as corpses.
“Mr. Ford… she… Mrs. Ford…” one of them stammered, trembling. “The guy cracked her skull open… then you shot her…. and after that, they kept going until dawn… she didn’t make it. She was gone by morning…”
He held out a sheet of paper like it was cursed.
Xavier snatched it.
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Deceased: Avery Lane.
The printed words scorched his eyes. Like someone had branded them into his brain.
“Fake,” he hissed. Then louder. “It’s fake! Another one of her tricks! She couldn’t stand seeing me care for someone else!
You’re all in on this–you think you can fool me?!”
The king of Fairhill’s criminal underworld collapsed in the ruins of a once–lavish garden, fists clenched in the dirt.
And within minutes, the headlines exploded across social media.
#Xavier Ford unhinged.
#Avery Lane presumed dead.
By the time Sophie arrived at the mansion, the scene was chaos. Xavier and Logan Yeager, the bald bastard, were going at
each other like wild animals.
“You have no idea how good she sounded that night,” Logan spat, blood streaming down his face. “Fucking perfect.”
“I’ll kill you!”
Xavier snapped.
Sophie tried to pull him back. He shoved her so hard she crashed to the floor, her silent sobs shaking her shoulders.
Her tears–and Xavier’s madness–dominated the news cycle for a full week. The scandal consumed everything.
Meanwhile, Xavier tore through every inch of the underworld, turning over every stone in his search for Avery.
Xavier’s mother said nothing to Sophie. Just stared coldly and told her to disappear.
Then came the breakdown.
“Sophie, please… wait for me.” Xavier caught her by the suitcase just as she was leaving the estate. His voice–desperate.
Raw. “Let me find Avery. Once I do, I’ll divorce her. I’ll marry you. I promise.”
Sophie’s eyes shimmered with tears as she wrote shakily into his palm:
“Xavier, she was stabbed protecting me. She saved my life. I can’t… I can’t be with you knowing that.”
“No! That’s not how it happened!” he shouted, clinging to the lie. “She planned the whole thing. That fat bastard–he was
part of her scheme. Just wait, Sophie. Once I find her, I’ll clean it all up!”
But Sophie pulled away.
She disappeared into the evening haze without another word.
Their split went viral.
The public praised Sophie for her grace and clarity. And Xavier? Branded a monster no one would defend.
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Tame him, conquer him, but try not to get too attached
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