CHAPTER 23

 Beatrice's POV

I couldn't even wait for the bell to go off in the office so I could go home and meet the apples of my eyes.

I walked into the house, my mind exploding in different Angles. Everything just happened in a little period. I'm sure Xander was stunned that I could confront him just like that, but the sad reality is that I still can't get out of that company because even if I hide in a hole, Xander will find me. So I think relocating is the best option. I have to discuss it with Sarah, and everything will be done. I needed space and time, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that no matter how hard I tried, it would follow me.

The kids were in the living room, laughing and playing, completely unaware of the tension that had built up between their mother and their father — the man who had always seemed to be a constant, whether I liked it or not.

"Mom!" Charlotte shouted as I walked through the door.

I forced a smile, trying to push away the discomfort in my chest. "Hey, sweetie. How was school today?"

"Good!" Caleb chirped, throwing a toy car across the room toward me. "We learned about wolves today."

I couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Of course, they’d find a way to make it about wolves. Their father’s world.

"That’s great," I said softly, kneeling to kiss their foreheads, my heart aching with a tenderness I could never fully explain.

"Are we going to see Aunt Sarah tomorrow?" Cooper asked, his voice a little quieter, almost as if he could sense the shift in the atmosphere.

I nodded, though my thoughts were far from the simple question. "Yes, we’ll visit Sarah tomorrow," I replied, trying to keep the emotions in check. "But remember, Mommy has to go to work tomorrow, too, so I need you to be good for Aunt Sarah."

Their faces lit up with excitement, and it was enough to break through the wall I had been building inside myself. I knew they deserved to have a normal life, far from the chaos and heartbreak of my own. But there was something in my chest that still ached—like a wound that never healed, always pulsing with a bitter reminder of the past I couldn’t outrun.

"Okay!" Charlotte and Caleb exclaimed in unison before they returned to their play, not realising that the weight of my day had only just begun.

After giving them dinner and settling them for bed, I stood in the kitchen, staring at the space. Everything in me wanted to shut down, to forget about the fight, the tension, and especially the lunch date Xander had insisted on. But there was no escaping it. I couldn’t ignore the knot in my stomach when I thought about tomorrow.

I had tried to convince myself that it was just business—that it didn’t matter. He was only doing this to prove something, assert his dominance, or perhaps make me feel small. But a strange part of me dreaded the lunch almost as much as I resented it.

The next morning arrived with its quiet storm. Despite the pounding headache and pit in my stomach, I did everything in the usual routine. The kids were already up, excited about their visit to Sarah's, and I couldn’t help but feel a flicker of guilt. I feel guilty for not being present for them as I should have been. Guilt for the lies, I told myself everything would be fine if I kept going.

After dropping them off with Sarah, I received the text I had been expecting—the address for the lunch.

Xander.

A part of me wanted to throw my phone across the room, but I stared at the message, my fingers hovering over the screen. The address led me to a place I hadn’t expected—a beer parlour, of all things.

I frowned, my heart sinking. The last thing I wanted was to be in a noisy, crowded bar with him, discussing business or whatever else he had planned. But I couldn’t back out now. This was the deal he had made, and there was no way out of it.

I took a deep breath, which caused me to exhale. I pulled up to the location that had been sent to me. As I stepped out of the car, I couldn't help but think something wasn't right. This was not the kind of venue for a business meeting.

I didn’t belong here— not at all. I was out of place; even though I was no stranger to the feeling of being alone in a room full of people, it looked like a place meant for whores! 

Inside, the place smelled of beer and cheap food, and I immediately felt the tension creep up my spine. But I don't really understand; Xander is way richer than this location. So, anyway, I decided to scan the room, trying to locate him, but it wasn’t hard. Xander stood out in every crowd, even when he wasn’t trying. His presence was a shadow that loomed over everything, and today was no different.

Then, I approached the back of the bar, where a VIP room had been reserved. This room looked like nothing I had seen outside. A pianist was playing peaceful music. Only a few people were there, and expensive dishes were served. A plate of food there could cost me my two months' salary. 

There, I found Xander sitting down with his composed face and three bottles of whiskey emptied in front of him. He sat down as if he owned the place. 

"Beatrice," he said, his voice smooth, but there was a hardness to it that made me tense. "I was starting to think you wouldn’t show up."

I wanted to snap back at him, but I walked to the table and sat down without a word.

"So," he started, sliding a folder across the table toward me. "I thought we could discuss the business proposals you’ve been working on. You said you had some ideas."

The words felt mechanical like I was nothing more than a tool to him. It wasn’t personal—at least, not for him.

I opened the folder, trying to focus on the numbers and words in front of me. Concentrating was hard when every part of me was still tethered to the tension we’d shared the day before. The way he rejected me had left a mark, and I wasn’t sure if it would ever fade.

We went through the details, discussing ideas, plans, and projections. But as the minutes passed, I couldn’t ignore how Xander’s demeanour had started to shift. He wasn’t as sharp as he usually was. His words were slower, and his eyes were not balanced; it was more like it was unfocused.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, watching him carefully. He had ordered drinks without asking me what I wanted— well, his cruelty level didn't make that new, and now, I was starting to wonder if it was affecting him more than he realised.

"Xander?" I said softly, my voice catching slightly in my throat. "Are you okay?"

He looked at me, and the faintest smirk was painted on his lips; he just kept pointing his fingers at my cleavages, saying I'll have you raw. I saw he wasn't in the right frame of mind again, so I stood up immediately; it was as if someone wanted to attack me the way I stood up. I made my way over to him. His eyes were somehow closed, and it seemed he couldn't keep his balance.

"Xander, you’re drunk," I said, my heart pounding in my chest. "You need to stop drinking."

He waved me off, clearly too far gone to listen. "I’m fine, Beatrice. Let’s finish this."

I couldn’t let it go on any longer. I grabbed his jacket, pulling him to his feet, and that’s when I realised I had no idea how to get him home. His wallet was empty, his cards gone. I tried searching through his pockets, but all I found was a business card for a hotel.

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or frustrated. Xander was a mess, and I was responsible for fixing it.

I didn't have the energy to argue with him right now, and I couldn't let him walk around without security. 

I decided without thinking, and before I knew it, I was at the hotel, checking him in under my name. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only thing I could do.

A strange feeling settled in my stomach as I walked back to my car. Something was changing between us—something I didn’t understand.

Was it the way Xander had looked at me earlier? Or was it that I had stayed to help him despite every part of me telling me not to?

I didn’t know what it meant.

But as I drove home, I couldn’t shake the question that lingered in my mind. I stopped the car's brakes immediately and decided to turn back. Even though he's cruel, I can't just leave him like that. He's my mate for a reason, but was I really helping him… or was I just making things worse?