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2: Meet Xavier Santos

LILLIAN

“Lillian, I’d like you to meet Mr. Xavier Santos.”

My breath caught in my throat at the sight of him.

I knew of him. I’ve heard all about him. I mean, you have to be living under a rock to not have heard of the great Xavier Santos. But I’ve never actually seen him in person till today.

And boy, the rumors don’t lie!

He appeared to be in his early thirties but he exuded a timeless elegance and confidence that surpassed his age. His chiseled features were nothing short of mesmerizing, with piercing jade blue eyes, his hair a lustrous shade of jet black, impeccably styled, and framing his very handsome face in a way that seemed almost too perfect to be real.

He had on a charcoal gray suit that accentuated his broad shoulders and trim physique. I could see the ink on his skin leaking from beneath the collars of his white shirt.

But despite his undeniable attractiveness and the allure of his obvious wealth, I found myself instinctively disliking him.

Xavier Santos looked at me like he was looking right through me. It was intimidating. He intimidated me and that’s saying a lot because I wasn’t easily intimidated.

It didn’t sit well with me.

But I refused to let him see that he got to me.

“Who the fuck is he?” I asked with so much disinterest, turning to my father.

My father’s shocked expression was almost comical like he couldn’t believe that I didn’t recognize someone as important as Xavier Santos. Xavier, on the other hand, sat up.

“I just told you, Lillian,” My father chuckled awkwardly. “This is Xavier Santos.”

“And who, pray tell, is Xavier Santos?” I rolled my eyes, still feigning ignorance, my voice over with subtle mockery.

My father’s mouth dropped open like someone about to catch a fly. But I couldn’t care less about him. I turned to look at Xavier, hoping to see that he’ soffendeo.

But it was quite the contrary. He looked rather amused, like all this was funny.

That aggravated me more.

“Xavier Santos is a billion, Lillian.” My father went on reading his biography like he was trying to impress me. “One of the riches men in the country and the richest man in his thirties. He is also the most eligible bachelor in the state—“

“And I’m supposed to care about this because?” I interjected rudely. “Come on, Daddy, did you honestly drag me from my shopping for this bullshit? I fail to see how any of this is my business,” I plopped down on the couch.

“Well, you are going to have to make it your business because you and Mr. Santos are getting married.”

I burst out laughing.

This has got to be a cruel joke.

But then, I realized that no one was laughing with me. My father was glaring and Xavier’s lips were tugged in an amused smirk.

They were serious.

This wasn’t a joke.

“You have got to be kidding me!” I scoffed in disbelief. “You can’t be serious, Daddy! I am definitely not getting married. I am not interested!”

“That is not your choice to make!” My father’s retort silences me, leaving me gapping like a fish out of water.

When I looked at Xavier again, he was still smirking, and I wanted nothing more than to slap that smugness off his fucking face.

My father turned to Xavier and chuckled awkwardly again.

“Please, excuse my daughter, Mr. Santos, ” he said and I scoffed, trying to wrap my head around the fact that he was kissing up to Xavier. “And you’d have to excuse me while I leave you two to get to know each other.”

And with that, he walked out of the lounge, leaving Xavier and me alone in the lounge.

I was right. The universe is so against me today.

“I need a fucking drink.” I groaned, standing up to pour myself a whiskey from the bar. I could feel Xavier’s eyes on me, following my every move but I decided not to pay him any heed.

Maybe he will disappear.

“You are really something, Lillian Wright—“

“Don’t talk to me.” I cut him off abruptly, dismissing him. But instead of heeding to my order, he started laughing, the deep rich sound echoing through the room.

I tried to act like it didn’t send shivers running down my spine.

“What the hell is funny!” I snapped at him.

“You haven’t changed one bit.” He said and I frowned in confusion, wondering what he was on about. Realization gleamed in his eyes. “You really don’t remember me, do you?” He asked, standing up to his feet.

I swallowed, trying not to seem intimidated by his towering figure closing in on me.

“Am I supposed to?” I sassed.

“Look closely, Lillian,”

He whispered, coming to stand in front of me, just a breath from me. His intoxicating cologne clouded my senses.

“Think back to sixteen years ago. The young boy living with his mum in your family house. Surely, I’m not that hard to forget.”

And just like that, his words unleashed a flood of memories that washed over me with a force that left me reeling.

Oh my God! My eyes widened in horror.

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