25 Xavier Charles

I sat in the back of the cab, frustration bubbling within me as the driver incessantly spewed out facts about North Carolina. Who cared about its size and population? I rummaged through my bag, desperately seeking solace in my music. Finding my headphones, I plugged them into my smartphone and scrolled through my playlist. "K-pop" caught my eye, and with a tap, the captivating voice of Hwa Sa flooded my ears, effectively drowning out the annoying drone of the driver.

I couldn't understand why he felt the need to treat me like a clueless tourist, bombarding me with historical trivia. Asheville, a place known for its natural beauty, had captured my attention. It seemed like an unlikely setting for trouble, but as fate would have it, Asheville in North Carolina would become the stage where my destiny, penned by the hands of the Moira, was about to unfold.

Leaning against the window, I let my gaze wander across the picturesque scenery, my mind drifting back to a conversation I had shared with my grandmother the night before. She had regaled me for hours with a story about a celestial war, where angels and other supernatural beings were drawn into a conflict of which they had little understanding. They were forced to choose sides, and those unfortunate enough to align with the losing faction were cursed, their powers waning or entrusted to specially trained humans known as "Avalors" to keep them in check.

"Am I one of them?" I had asked eagerly.

She had wrinkled her brow in disgust. "No, we are not mere humans," she had replied dismissively.

She continued her tale, clearly presenting a one-sided version that placed blame solely on the angels. However, she never revealed how she acquired this unique interpretation of biblical or fairy tale lore, known only to her. The whole concept struck me as absurd, a fantastical realm of angels, demons, and other supernatural creatures hiding in plain sight. I preferred to believe that we were all imperfect humans, without the need for elaborate mythologies.

My fingers absently traced the intricate design of the ring adorning my middle finger. Crafted from pearls, sapphire, diamonds, and carnelian, my grandmother had insisted I wear it at all times, especially since I was leaving the protective confines of Los Angeles.

Chuckling to myself, I recalled her serious expression as she emphasized the importance of never removing the ring until I set foot back in LA. The specifics of her warning eluded me, but I intended to give her a call later to let her know of my safe arrival. For now, it was best not to disturb her secret meetings, as I was well aware of her aversion to interruptions.

As the driver continued his relentless rambling, I closed my eyes, seeking a moment of respite. However, my brief reprieve was shattered when the driver suddenly shouted, causing me to jolt awake. Grateful for the sanctuary of my earphones, I shot the driver a disdainful glare and handed him a modest tip. He understood better than to provoke my wrath. Paying the fare, I retrieved my travel bag, containing only the essentials for my three-day stay. My colleagues would join me later in the day, but for now, I had an important meeting with the bosses to attend to.

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With a firm grip, Mr. Chadwick's words resonated in my mind, instilling a sense of anticipation and excitement.

"Thank you! I know we won't regret partnering with your company. My expectations for this project are colossal, and I can finally find solace knowing it rests in the hands of experts," I exclaimed, unable to contain my enthusiasm. As I spoke, an idea sprouted in my mind.

"While you're here, why not embark on a captivating tour of this enchanting city? I guarantee you'll relish every moment," I suggested, determined to make their stay memorable.

Radiating with satisfaction, I clasped Mr. Chadwick's hand, basking in his flattery and exceptional hospitality. Breaking the conference room's atmosphere, I bid farewell with a flourish and made my exit.

"Well, that was a breeze. Exceptional work, everyone," I praised my colleagues, casting a glance of admiration their way.

"Why not heed my suggestion and explore the city to celebrate our triumph? As a gesture of my appreciation, I'll be treating all of you to..." I paused, reveling in the excitement building up.

Allowing no interruptions, a deep, commanding voice interjected, "Allow me to take the reins. How about joining me for dinner tonight at my brand-new restaurant? My assistant will provide you with the invitation, and the address is elegantly inscribed on the card."

Turning my gaze towards the unexpected intruder, I concealed my disapproval with practiced ease. "Thank you for your generous offer, Mr. Charles," I responded, my smile concealing the contradictory emotions bubbling inside.

Xavier Charles was an egotistical CEO.

"Oh, no need for formalities. Call me Xavier," he insisted, his voice dripping with sugary charm. I reciprocated with a polite smile, masking the internal conflict I experienced.

In truth, I had mixed feelings about Xavier Charles. He was no ordinary individual; rather, he was the embodiment of a crush I had nursed for an eternity. It was akin to those adolescent days when girls pretended not to like boys they secretly adored.

But right now, Xavier's presence made me uneasy, not in a crude or inappropriate manner, but rather due to his unnerving fixation on my ring. If it were anyone else, I might suspect foul play, but given Xavier's immense wealth, he could effortlessly acquire twice the value of my expensive jewelry.

"Xavier, we must bid you farewell for now. Thank you once again for your gracious invitation," I declared, asserting my departure. Rejecting his offer seemed impossible, considering the awe-struck expressions plastered on my colleagues' faces; I couldn't bear to shatter their hopes.

"Of course, take care, dear Alora. It simply wouldn't be the same without your presence," Xavier remarked, his eyes lingering on me.

"I wouldn't dream of missing it," I replied with a smile, though my true intentions contradicted those words. Attending the dinner was the last thing I desired—I disliked being near him. It felt as though he could peer into the depths of my soul, and I detested that vulnerable sensation.

Returning to the hostel our company had arranged, my plan was simple: relax in front of the television, accompanied by celebratory drinks, reveling in self-congratulation. However, fate had other ideas. Upon emerging from a rejuvenating shower, I inadvertently succumbed to exhaustion, slipping into an unforeseen slumber.

"Ah, damn it! " I groaned, realizing I overslept and missed my Tv show. Just as disappointment began to engulf me, my phone illuminated, revealing Xavier's name. Initially, I disregarded it, but the subsequent message propelled me into a flurry of activity—within thirty minutes, I had to don my attire or risk Xavier personally dragging my lazy self from the premises.

30 minutes!? Who gives a lady that little time to pick out and outfit, do her makeup and all other things to look pretty?

While searching for a dress to wear, I heard a gentle knock on my door and my heart skipped a beat.

Calm down!

It can't be Xavier, he wouldn't knock so gently. Who was I kidding, he would walk right in because the hotel manager himself would be the one to politely hand him the keys to my room.

Curiosity piqued, I threw on a large hoodie and made my way to the door. As it swung open, my eyes were met with a disappointing sight.

"Stacy! Please come in. You look absolutely beautiful," I greeted her, a hint of surprise evident in my voice.

Stacy, one of the microbiologists in our lab, was someone I didn't particularly care for. She always seemed to be watching me, lurking in the shadows, and feigning timidity. Taking in her unattractive dress, I plastered on a dazzling smile, offering her a compliment.

I'm a terrible person, destined for hell.

"I'll be right back. Give me a few minutes," I informed her, and she nodded in response.

Scouring through my limited wardrobe, I pulled out a stunning red gown. Thank goodness I brought it along. Looks like it has finally found its purpose. I paired it with red heels and applied a seductive red lipstick, feeling beautiful and in control.

Emerging from my room, I posed the question, "How do I look?"

"OMG, Alora! You need to dress up more often. You look incredible this way," Stacy exclaimed.

Furrowing my eyebrows, her words felt more like an insult than a compliment.

"I mean, you look more beautiful when you dress up like this," Stacy quickly clarified, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness.

"No problem at all, Stacy," I replied, flashing a pretentious smile. Grabbing my black purse and car keys, I gestured for her to join me. However, she remained seated, fixated on my hand.

"What's wrong?" I inquired, puzzled by her sudden attention.

"Your ring," she whispered.

"And what about it?" I retorted.

"It looks ancient, and it doesn't match your dress," she pointed out.

I frowned, gazing at the ring.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't mean for you to take it off. I was just trying to..." Stacy trailed off, her voice filled with remorse.

"No, you're absolutely right. I think it would be best if I left it behind. Besides, it holds immense sentimental value as it belongs to my grandmother, and I want to keep it safe at home," I explained, concocting a tale to keep it away from Xavier's prying eyes.

Carefully removing the ring, I pretended to place it on the table while secretly stashing it inside my purse. Xavier might even go as far as searching my room for any hidden treasures my grandmother casually bestowed upon me. As I turned to leave, I inadvertently forgot to grab my phone.

With the door closing behind me, my silent phone suddenly sprang to life, incessantly ringing. Grandma's name illuminated the screen, a missed connection since I had already left.