hope

POV: Xavier

The sun was barely up, the sky streaked with purple and gold, but I didn't care. My boots hit the pavement hard, the sound echoing through the empty streets. My ribs still throbbed from last night's fight — every breath a sharp reminder that I'd barely made it out. But all I could think about was Fiona.

I needed to see her.

I kept replaying the fight in my head. Jeremy's face, twisted with rage. The way he'd lunged at her, fingers outstretched like claws. I'd taken him down, made sure he stayed down. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. That I'd missed something.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I ignored it. I just wanted to get back to the suite, to see Fiona's face and know she was safe.

But then it buzzed again. And again. And again.

I groaned and yanked the phone out of my pocket, squinting at the cracked screen. My heart dropped.

27 missed calls.

14 messages.

All from Fiona.