Chapter 8 THE FIRST CUT
HAZEL’S HOUSE
Ixora exhaled deeply.
“How could a doctor make such a silly mistake? And why didn’t you think of telling me? Why didn’t you inform me before I went to steal my boss’ watch? Do you know the deep shit I’ve gotten myself into? Do you!?” Ixora yelled, running her hands through her hair.
Hazel stood. “Ixora, breathe in. I had no idea that the doctor misplaced the text result.”
“You should have called me. You should have found a way to tell me. If I had known, I would never have stolen from my boss. I wouldn’t be here dying of guilt.”
“I tried calling you Xoxo, but I couldn’t reach you,” Hazel said.
Ixora took out her phone from her back pocket and checked her call history.
“See, I didn’t receive any calls from you.”
“There was no network, you don’t expect to see my calls.”
Ixora let the phone slip out of her hand and slowly sat on the couch.
“You have no idea what I’ve gotten myself into,” she mumbled.
Hazel sat beside her and held her shoulder.
“You just have to return the watch and explain things to him. I will come with you if you want.”
“He has the watch. I have no idea how he took the watch. I was sure the watch was in my bag, but yet he had the watch,” she said, her fingernails biting into her palm.
“What do you mean?” Hazel furrowed her brow.
“I don’t even know. I will have to take a day off. I can’t face him today,” Ixora said.
A call to her phone.
She and Hazel exchanged glances before picking it up and seeing an unknown caller.
Hazel gave her a sign to answer it, and she did, placing the phone in her ear.
“Miss Ixora Castellan, Mr. Blackthorn has ordered that you come to work now,” the person whose voice she recognized as Kian said in that final tone.
She exhaled softly.
“I will be there,” she said and hung up.
“What now?”
“I will have to go. I will come back to see Aunt Maria,” she said and left the house.
The pitiful look that was on Hazel’s face turned into a disdained look as she glared at the door as if she could see Ixora.
“She’s gone,” Maria said, coming out with a plate in her hands.
“So naive,” she said and sat down with a smile on her face.
“Our plan might have failed, but I will come up with another one. She thinks you are suffering from blood cancer. Foolish girl,” Hazel muttered.
\[BLACKTHORN AUTOMOBILE\]
Ixora got out of the car and the driver drove off. She took a short stare at the building before walking in, her heart palpitating madly.
She adjusted her bag before walking in. As she passed the hallway, she saw people whispering in groups.
Her palms immediately turned cold.
She might have recently joined the company, but she had been observant enough to know that they took their work seriously.
“What was happening?” she thought, slowing down her pace the more she got closer to his office.
“The police are still inspecting the boss’s office. The thief sure has the guts to try to steal from Mr Blackthorn.”
Ixora’s ears twitched, and she had to halt her strides.
“The police are here...He called the police...What if...” she wiped the beads of sweat forming on her forehead as she rushed to the girls.
“Excuse me. You said the police are here. Why...” she asked almost in a whisper as if Drexton himself could hear her.
The girls gave her a strange look.
“Yes. Someone tried stealing from the boss.”
“Oh...” she trailed and continued her way to his office.
“What’s with her?” one of the girls said as she continued working on her file.
The other one shrugged her shoulder.
\---
Ixora reached the office door and pressed her ear to the door, but couldn’t hear anything.
She took a deep breath before pushing the door open.
They all noticed her.
“Go... Good morning Sir,” she stuttered.
Drexton glanced at her shortly before returning his gaze to the policemen.
“Mr Blackthorn, whoever did it must be a professional. They didn’t even leave any clues,” the officer said.
“Bold enough to steal it, yet dumb enough to try and use it,” Drexton replied.
Ixora shifted uncomfortably on her spot.
“Mr Blackthorn, do you have any suspects in mind?” the senior officer asked.
Ixora gulped hard as she lowered her gaze.
“Was he going to give them her name?”
“Whoever did this is just a little thief. A pet that needs to be tamed,” he said in his rich dulcet voice, his eyes on Ixora, who had her hands clasped together.
He might have been smiling in front of cameras, but rumors had it that he always talks in riddles and the police had just witnessed it today.
The officer noticed the tension between them.
“You can leave now,” he added.
“Okay sir,” the senior officer said and left with his colleagues.
Drexton sat on the chair, his aura dominating the entire office.
Ixora bit her lips as she gently took her gaze to him.
“Sir...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to steal it. My friend’s—”
“My morning coffee, Ixora,” he cut her off.
Ixora blinked, staring at him for some minutes.
“Huh,” she had no idea when it escaped her lips.
Drexton returned the gaze with the same stoic expression.
Ixora got back to her senses.
“Coffee,” she recalled and walked out of the office.
Drexton leaned deeper into the chair, resting his elbow on the table as he remembered how he took back the watch.
\[FLASHBACK\]
Ixora ran like her life depended on it, looking back as if someone was coming after her. On returning her gaze to the front, stumbled on a plank.
“Aish!” she winced, holding her wounded knees.
She tried to stand but touched her waist and couldn’t find her mini bag.
“Where did it go?” she looked around and saw the bag lying a few centimeters away from her.
“How did it get there?” she managed to stand and limped her way to the purse.
She picked it up and attached it back to her waist.
Feeling someone behind her, she limped her way home as fast as she could, the wound hurting the hell out of her.
Drexton smirked as he looked at the watch in Drew’s mouth.
“Good job,” he said, collecting the watch, the smirk growing deeper.
He patted Drew’s fur, signaling it to go home.
He had one more thing to do.
\[REALITY\]
Drexton stood at the now-fixed window, gazing out thoughtfully.
He was the one who cleaned her blood, fixed the window, and had the drawers repaired, making sure to remove her fingerprints.
“Smart,” he said, going back to his chair.
\---
Ixora was looking zoned out as she brewed his coffee.
A lot of questions were running through her mind...questions she had no answer to, nor could anyone else answer.
How did he come into her house?
And the watch...how was he able to retrieve it? She was damn sure she had it with her.
Why didn’t he hand her over to the police...not as if she still had it, but...
“Ahh,” she winced and withdrew her hand when the hot coffee spilled on her hand.
She immediately turned off the machine and looked at her hand to see it was red.
She shut her eyes, and bit her lips, trying to suppress the pain.
Someone held her hand, causing her to open them.
She saw the person was Kian.
“You burnt your hand. Come with me, let’s get it treated,” he walked away while she followed.
\---
She slowly creaked open the door to see Drexton looking so engrossed in a file he was working on.
She had to stop to stare at him and closely observe all his features.
From his facial features to the expression he had while working on the files.
For a moment he didn’t look like the one who was...he looked like Drexton Blackthorn—the one she had a deep crush on.
She blinked herself back to reality as she slowly walked to his table.
“Your coffee sir,” she placed it on the table.
He raised his head, his eyes meeting her finger that was wrapped in a bandage, then to her face.
She gulped hard as she stepped away from the table, her head fixated on the floor.
She wanted to clear things up with him and tell him why she stole his watch.
She knows she’s not a thief—at least she doesn’t want him to see her that way.
The questions running in her mind deserved an answer—and she was going to get them.
She wanted to speak up, but his voice cut her off before she could speak.
“Be prepared, we have a meeting by 10,” he said and waved his hand, dismissing her.
Ixora batted her eyelashes at his strange behavior.
It was completely different from when the police were here.
She wondered if she could ever understand him.
The way he spoke to the police and now doesn’t add up.
He wasn’t giving her a chance to explain herself, either.
She couldn’t even make out if he was mad at her or—
Just...who is he exactly?