Page 18 of Reckless Temptation
Steve laughs dismissively. "It doesn’t matter. All's fair in love and business. Besides, she's fallen right into Xavier’s trap, hasn't she? The way she looks at him... It's almost pitiable."
"It’s not a trap if he truly feels something for her," Mateo argues, but Steve's next words cut through the air like a sharpened knife.
"He might feel something, but remember, I've advised Xavier for years. I know how his mind works. He won’t let feelings get in the way of his objectives, especially when it comes to the Laurents."
The weight of realization threatens to crush me from within. With my back pressed against the cold stone pillar, I feel a tumult of emotions: anger, confusion, and a piercing heartbreak. I need to leave.
Before I can make my escape, though, I feel a pair of eyes lock onto my form. Mateo, ever observant, has spotted me. The look on his face shifts rapidly from shock to comprehension. Steve, oblivious to my presence, continues his self-congratulatory tirade.
"Enough, Steve." Mateo's voice is forceful, a stark contrast to the elitist arrogance that oozes from Steve. He takes a deliberate step forward, positioning himself protectively between Steve and me. "I think you've said more than enough for one night."
Steve bristles, his nose turning up in disdain. "Don't get above your station, Mateo. I know you have a soft spot for the Laurent girl, but this is none of your business."
"It is when you're badmouthing someone who doesn't deserve it," Mateo retorts, his blue-collar upbringing evident in the rough edges of his voice.
Steve sneers, sizing Mateo up before scoffing, "This isn’t over." Without waiting for a reply, he storms off.
I try to pull myself together, the enormity of what I've just heard battling with the pain threatening to spill from my eyes. But the facade is brittle, and my voice quivers as I address Mateo. "Thank you... I just need to leave."
Mateo nods, his expression softening. "Let me walk you out."
Grateful for his support, and with no energy left to argue, I nod, allowing him to guide me through the corridors, away from the whispers and potential prying eyes.
The grandiose steps of the venue magnify every echo, every footstep. My heels resonate with authority, a rhythm reflecting my attempt to remain composed despite the storm raging inside. The cool night air is a brief reprieve, contrasting the stifling atmosphere inside.
However, the moment is interrupted when a commanding voice rings out. "Isabelle."
I turn and am met with Xavier's formidable presence, rapidly closing the distance between us. His face is a canvas of restrained emotion, every line and crease accentuating his usual dominant aura, yet there's a hint of something more beneath.
"Why are you leaving?" he asks, his voice carrying an edge that demands an answer.
"Did I just 'fall for it,' Xavier?" My words drip with disdain, challenging him.
A flash of genuine confusion crosses his face. "What are you talking about?"
"Your trusted advisor, Steve," I respond coldly, "He seems quite informed about your supposed intentions with me. Am I just another strategic move in your game?"
His jaw tightens, the controlled fury evident. "Isabelle, I don't know what you overheard, but—"
I cut him off sharply. "You want to play games with my father and your past, go ahead. But I am not a pawn to be used."
Xavier takes a step toward me. "You misunderstand, Isabelle. I won't belittle the complicated nature of our families, but I told you. What’s between us is not a game."
A forceful presence enters the fray, and before Xavier can say more, Mateo intervenes, positioning himself squarely between Xavier and me.
“Enough, Xavier,” Mateo's voice is level but brimming with authority. “Isabelle has the right to leave without any more drama. What she heard, whatever you might think of it, hurt her. You owe her the respect to let her process it without confrontation.”
Xavier's gaze narrows, his jaw set. “Mateo, this isn't your place—”
“It is when a friend is clearly distressed,” Mateo retorts. He places a comforting arm around my shoulder, turning me slightly away from Xavier's piercing gaze. “Right now, what she needs is space. You'd give her that if you care about her as you say.”
The atmosphere is thick with tension, the electric charge between the three of us drawing the attention of a few stray party-goers. Their whispered speculations become a low hum in the background, providing an unsettling soundtrack to the standoff.
I take a deep breath, finding strength in Mateo's protective stance. “Xavier, I need time to think. Alone.” My voice is firm, trying to convey a finality I'm not entirely sure of myself.
Xavier’s face reveals a vulnerability that’s in stark contrast to the dominant persona he usually projects. “Isabelle,” he starts, his voice softening, “please, let me explain.”
But I shake my head, unwilling to let him close enough to cloud my judgment again. “Not now.” My response is terse, decisive.