Chapter 144 The Plan

Chapter 144 The Plan
Xavier’s Point of View

I understood Christian’s impatience.

More than anyone, I knew how deeply he had blamed himself for everything that happened to Lana over the past five years. There were times when the guilt consumed him completely, moments when he spiraled so far out of control that he couldn't forgive himself.

And whenever that happened, he would find Bobby.

Again.

And again.

Beating him so often that it eventually became a routine. Father had to intervene after one of those attacks because Christian went too far.

He broke both of Bobby’s arms. The injuries left Bobby hospitalized for nearly six months. His father was furious and threatened to make the incident public, but our Father’s influence was greater than his anger.

Money solved the problem, the only thing Bobby’s father got was compensation.

It was a mess. I had to step in and promise that I would keep an eye on Christian. Most of the time, getting him to listen to anyone was impossible.

But he listened to me.

Somehow, in the middle of all that chaos, I became the only person Christian trusted. He cut Father and his Mother out of his life completely, swearing that he would never again depend on them or their influence.

He became the lone wolf of the family.

Always causing trouble, and starting fights, but volleyball gave him a purpose.

He climbed through the ranks so quickly that even Father couldn't ignore his success. Within a few years, Christian became a star player.

And he had kept his promise—he never touched Father’s ‘dirty’ money.

I envied him for that.

Because unlike Christian, I had spent my entire life as Father's puppet.

Someone had to.

The thought disgusted me sometimes.

I wasn't proud of the choices I had made, or the compromises I had accepted, but I wasn't Christian.

I was Xavier.

The illegitimate son.

I was born with limited choices, and fewer opportunities, without Father’s name, power, and influence, there was no world in which I could have reached where I am today.

And while I did all of that, there were times when it felt like I was bowing to the very power that had destroyed Lana.

But I had always been better at controlling my emotions.

Being born and raised in the dirt had taught me how to survive. It had hardened my skin, built walls around my heart, and taught me that sometimes, pretending was simply another form of survival.

The end justified the means.

Then I would take that power from him—the same power he had used to crush the powerless—and use it to free the people he had spent his life stepping on.

That was the plan.

But today, none of that mattered.

I had been waiting for Lana to return.

After seeing her again for the first time in five years, I was ashamed that I hadn't recognized her at first glance.

She looked nothing like the boy who had once shared a dorm room with me.

There was no light in her eyes anymore, no trace of the innocent curiosity that used to linger there.

She looked tired.

Lost.

And angry.

God, she was so angry.

The hatred inside her was so thick that I could almost taste it.

And when she stood in front of me today, I could see the slight tremor in her body. She was fighting desperately to remain strong, forcing herself not to break in front of us.

I don't think I had the heart to see the broken person hiding beneath that strong façade.

Not when I knew I was partly responsible for putting her there, and I had helped break someone who had once been so lovely…so innocent.

That was why I stopped Christian from pushing her any further.

“Are we just going to let her hate us forever?” Christian asked, the moment she was out of side, his voice was controlled, but his body betrayed him. His fists were clenched, his jaw tight, and anger radiated from every inch of him.

I understood his frustration.

“She is right there,” he continued, gesturing toward the stairs she had disappeared through. “And we're just going to let her work as our maid? So what? We do nothing?”

He stepped closer and shoved a hand against my chest.

I stumbled backward.

“Please, Christian.” I sighed, already too exhausted to fight with him. “I'm not saying we won't explain everything to her. But she hates us right now. Nothing we say is going to get through to her.”

“Do you think I don't know that?” he snapped, his eyes burned into mine. “Do you think I don't fucking see it?”

He shoved my chest again. “But am I supposed to stop trying just because she hates us?”

“I’m not saying that,” I answered with a sigh, my eyes flickering toward the stairs.

It wouldn't be wise to let her hear us arguing.

I grabbed Christian by the arm and pulled him across the room, leading him outside toward the pool area.

“We've waited five years for this moment,” I said the moment we were outside. “We can't screw this up. Instead of rushing in and trying to explain everything, we need to get her to lower her guard first.”

Christian fell silent. “Only then will she be willing to listen to us.”

“And how the hell do we do that?” Christian ran both hands through his dark hair, his worried blue eyes narrowing as he stared at me. He looked like he was either seconds away from crying or punching something.

“She’s like a fucking armored tank. Did you see how tense she was?”

“Fighting force with force will only make her hate us more.” I reached out and patted his shoulder. He exhaled heavily before looking at me again. “Right now, the only role we have to play is that of an understanding boss. You’ll be professional with her, and you won't bring up anything from five years ago.”

Christian let out a sarcastic laugh and stepped away from me, planting both hands on his hips.

For a moment, he said nothing.

He paced quietly along the edge of the pool, walking all the way to the other end before turning around and heading back toward me.

He looked like he was about to slam straight into me.

“And I might as well add this,” I continued. “Do something about that terrible temper of yours. It won't do us any good if you scare her away with that grumpy attitude.”

“Fuck you.” He glared at me. “Are you certain this will work?”

There was no sarcasm in his voice this time, he was genuinely worried.

“I’m willing to try anything for her sake.”

Nothing was guaranteed, but this was our only chance. We had spent five years waiting for this moment, and if we handled it badly, we might lose her all over again.

We had to get this right.

“I think it will,” I answered. “If we trust each other and take the time to strategize.”

Christian studied me for a moment.

“From the look of things, I suspect she might still care about us.” His expression changed slightly at my words.

“I’ll speak to her employer,” I continued. “I want to find out as much as I can about her life over the past five years. Her past, her family… everything we can learn without pushing her too hard.”

“What are you thinking about?” Christian asked curiously.

His blue eyes had softened, and I couldn't help but smile. At the end of the day, the end always justified the means. And if getting Lana back meant playing the game differently this time, then that was exactly what I intended to do.

“We’re going to personalize her.” Christian stared at me, clearly still trying to understand what I meant. “So she works for us,” I clarified. “Not the agency. Us.”

His eyebrows drew together, and I started this time a little more firmly. “We’re going to buy her.”

For a second, Christian simply stared at me, then his eyes narrowed before a slow smirk spread across his face.

“You motherfucking animal,” he muttered, shaking his head, but he didn't disagree.

“I have to go to school. I have lectures today.” I turned on my heels and headed back toward the house. “Try not to ruin the plan while you're here.”

“Sure, brother.” There was a lightness in his voice now.

It looked like hope.

For the first time in five years, neither of us were willing to let go of it.