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4: Plan B

XAVIER

I watched Lillian storm out of the room, slamming the door behind her, her words hanging in the air like a lingering echo of her arrogance.

“You will always be nothing more than a wretched, ugly boy—the son of a nobody.”

A smirk stretched at the corners of my lips and I shook my head. Lillian Wright hasn’t change one bit.

Fucking cunt.

I won’t lie, those words kinda stung a bit, like a slight bruise on my pride. Those words literally dug up memories of the last that I wanted nothing more but to bury. But at the same time, it was also a reminder of how far I have come.

I was nothing but proud of myself and the strides I have made in the last sixteen years of my life, all my ambitions paying off in ways I could never imagine. Her words were meant to wound me but all they did was reinforce the confidence and resilience that has been driving me.

Taking the glass of whiskey Lillian had poured for herself but didn’t end up drinking, I raised it to my lips and downed the content in one swift motion, the liquid burning my throat. As I poured myself another glass, I allowed my mind to take me down memory lane to sixteen years ago.

I was fourteen years old, living with my mother in the Wright Mansion. Lillian was twelve years old and for a girl of that age, she had quite a mouth on her.

Very fiery.

That was what attracted me to her.

She was a spoiled brat, spoiled rotten that girl, with a sense of entitlement that matched her pompous attitude. She was always ready to spit fire and brimstone at anyone- even her friends, who dared cross her, especially if things didn’t go her way.

I was mostly at the receiving end of her brunt. Because I was beneath her.

She didn’t fail to remind me that I was a nobody, or the son of a nobody. She would have her friend hurl insults at me, insults that were like hot coal seared to my skin. But despite her sharp tongue and arrogant demeanor, I couldn’t help but be drawn to her like a fucking moth to flame.

She was addictive.

I wasn’t sure what it was about her that had me so entranced. There was something about her that had always captivated me, something beyond mere physical beauty. But heck, she was so fucking beautiful, more now than then.

Her honey brown hair that cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders, framing a face so exquisitely, it seemed almost otherworldly. Or was it her eyes—those piercing gray eyes—that held me captive, their depths swirling with a complexity that both intrigued and unnerved me.

When she was standing just a breath away from me earlier, her every movement graceful and poised, I couldn’t help but marvel at her beauty. And yet, beneath that veneer of perfection, I could still see the darkness lurking—a cruelty that contrasted with her outward appearance.

Still, I couldn’t resist her even if I tried.

At first back then, I thought it was just a childish crush, something that would fade away with time, especially with the way she always treated me.

She had a way of belittling me, of talking down on me, making me feel like trash especially in front of her friends. That would have sent most boys running for the hills, but not me. No, I would just smile it off, determined to prove to her that no matter my status, I could still take care of her.

That I was worthy of her attention.

I remember vividly the day I gifted her a stuffed teddy bear for her birthday. I had saved up all my lunch money for an entire month just to get it for her, thinking it would win her heart. But when I gave her, she ripped the head off the bear, threw the separated halves to the floor and stomped on it.

Then she looked me straight in the eye and said the following words to me.

“Your sorry excuse of a present will not change the fact that you are just a low-life piece of trash. You don’t mean anything to me now and you will never mean anything to me. You should be grateful you are even breathing the same air as me.”

And walked off.

But instead of those words being the final straw for me, instead of those words being a wake up call for me to stay away from her, they only fueled the fire burning in me, imbuing me with the determination to prove her wrong.

So, I worked harder than I have ever worked before and became the man that I am today, deeming myself worthy of her.

But yet again, she rejected me, and it felt like a twinge of Deja vu. Only that this time, things were different.

I wasn’t the naive fourteen year old boy anymore, pinning after her with blond devotion. No, I am a man now- a man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

And I want Lillian Wright to be mine.

Only that this time, I won’t ask nicely.

With my mind already turning to the plan I had set in motion long before now, I reached for my phone and dialed the number of my personal assistant.

“Boss,” his deep voice resounded through the speaker as soon as he picked up.

“Castor, it’s time,” I said, my voice steady. “Get the plan B in motion.”

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