Chapter 32 - Xavier

Xavier

I t was funny how one moment could change a person’s life.

My one moment started at birth and set off a chain reaction that continues to this day.

“Maddox.” The goalkeeper coach yelled in frustration. “That’s the fourth one you’ve missed. Run it again.”

Training has been a disaster. My timing is off. I’m missing easy saves. My head is a mess.

This is the national team. I can’t screw this up with a qualifier coming in two days. I’ve no doubt Ashton will replace me if I don’t get my shit together.

I nodded, glancing at Cole, one of our backup keepers. He’d be more than willing to take my starting job for this match.

Determination lit a fire deep in my belly.

Losing control of my emotions was one thing. Losing control of my ability to focus and play at the highest level was another.

I refused to fail.

We started the drills again. Each time I punched the ball away or caught it, the velocity vibrated through my hands. I pushed harder with every dive and every lunge, stretching my body to its limit.

When the whistle blew to end the session, Zach walked over to me.

“You’re practicing like you got something to prove,” he remarked. “Want to run through some penalties with me?”

I grabbed my water bottle, pausing to drink. Cade and I practice penalty shoot outs all the time. Might be fun to work with Zach.

“Yeah. Let’s see how good a striker you actually are.”

Zach’s knowing smile cemented my resolve. He placed the ball on the penalty marker and kicked it. No lead up, no theatrics, just a strong kick. A brisk whoosh of air streaked past me.

“Alright, mate. I see what you’re doing.” I smirked, picking up the ball. “You won’t get it by me this time.”

I tossed it back to him and stood on the line.

Zach kicked the ball hard. Jesus, what a leg. The sting from the ball hitting my hand burned halfway up my arm.

“Lucky stop,” he commented. “Ready for more?”

We practiced for the next twenty minutes. I only play against West London twice a season but I’ve studied how Zach takes his penalties. I know which side of the net he prefers, if he kicks high or low, and how often he drills it down the middle. He doesn’t give away much with his stance but he does feint in the run-up to his kicks.

I’ve seen this tactic many times. Unfortunately, I’ve been deceived by it more often than I care to admit.

His last attempt hit the crossbar, sending the ball over the net.

“Guess that means I won this round,” I joked.

Zach laughed, placing his hands on his hips. “Fair enough, Maddox. Hope this little session got your mind back in the game.”

Stunned by his observation, I followed him to the training facility. We’d almost made it to the changing room when he broke the silence.

“I realize we aren’t proper friends or anything, but is everything alright? Off the pitch I mean. You’ve not been yourself.”

I shrugged, not willing to pour my guts out to Zach Donovan. Tensions between us have certainly eased since the day I sucker-punched him during a match. Doesn’t mean I’m sharing my life story with him.

“Can’t complain,” I answered in a brisk tone. “Just the usual stuff.”

He stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“After I crashed my car into the store window, I thought my career was over. The media was hounding me. I was taken out of the starting eleven. All the distractions put me in a tailspin.” He stopped walking and faced me. “One of the things that got me through it was my bond with my teammates. None of the other bullshit mattered. And do you know where I got that mentality from?” His hand rested on my shoulder. “You. You’re a living legend, mate. And I don’t say that lightly. All us lads are honored to represent England with you. We all have your back, on the pitch and off.”

I remained frozen in place long after Zach disappeared into the changing room.

Victoria

H aving this conversation with my dad while sitting at home in pajamas wasn’t quite how I pictured it.

I tossed our dinner plans out the window after yesterday’s call with Xavier. I haven’t been able to think straight since. All I saw was the tortured look in his eyes before the screen went black.

Bringing up the unpleasantness of Jordan’s insinuations was the last thing I wanted to do. But I needed answers. I needed clarity. I needed to close this chapter of my life.

A soft knock sounded at my door. I shuffled over, numb to any emotion that tried to force its way into my reality. I’ve excelled at suppressing how I really felt for so long it was like second nature.

When I opened the door and saw my father, the dam broke.

All my pent-up emotion from the last twenty-four hours —hell, my entire existence — exploded. I didn’t fight the tidal wave; I let it crash over me.

Gentle hands guided me to the couch. I sank into the cushions, drowning in anger, heartache, guilt, sadness, and hurt. My eyes burned with liquid fire. The tears I shed didn’t play favorites. I cried for my sister, my family, and Xavier.

My dad stayed quiet, stroking my hair. I felt so small sitting with him, like I was still a little girl running to the unconditional comfort only a parent could provide. The fact that our relationship has been severed all these years made me feel even worse.

So much wasted time. And for what?

Focus. I have to focus .

Once the tears dried up and I could breathe without sniffling, my dad grabbed us some water from the kitchen. On his way back to the couch, he paused in front of the coffee table and picked up a small, framed photo.

“Where did you get this?” he asked quietly, turning the frame so I could see the picture of Charlotte and I.

“I found it when I was at the storage unit a few months ago.”

A heartbreaking smile lifted my dad’s mouth. “I remember this. Your sixteenth birthday. Charlotte wanted everything to be perfect. She was the consummate hostess, always making sure people had enough food and drink.” He sat next to me. “You, on the other hand, kept flirting with the Anderson boy. Nobody else at the party existed.”

“Oh my god.” I smiled sheepishly. “I forgot about that. Thanks.”

He chuckled, putting an arm around my shoulders. After staying quiet for a beat he asked, “What has you so upset, love? Is it your mother?”

I shook my head. “We haven’t spoken since the cottage fiasco.”

“Not even on your birthday?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm.” He squeezed my shoulder. “That surprises me.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t surprise me.”

“Is it Xavier?”

A knot of emotion tangled in my throat. Such a loaded question. I decided on a brief, sanitized answer. “Yes and no. He’s going through something right now and I feel helpless being so far away from him.”

Astute hazel eyes studied me. “He’s lucky to have you. I’ve no doubt he appreciates your support, no matter the distance.”

I nodded, willing myself to get to the actual reason why I wanted to see my father.

“I need to ask you something.” I clasped my hands together. “It’s about one of your clients.”

His brows furrowed in confusion.

“Someone from a long time ago, when Charlotte and I were babies or maybe even before we were born.” I forged ahead, ignoring my erratic pulse. “The family name is McKennie. Are you familiar with them?”

A few moments of reflective silence passed.

“I knew a Samuel McKennie in my younger days. We went to the same school. Son of a lord if I remember correctly. He and his wife died in a boating accident about ten years ago.”

My heart rate spiked.

“Did he ever invest with your firm?”

“I don’t know. Maybe when I was just starting. What is all of this about, Victoria?”

Too many jumbled thoughts clouded my mind. Maybe I should have asked Xavier to be here for this conversation, even if it’d only been on a video call. His presence always calmed me.

Charming and affectionate, protective and fierce. My safety in the swirling storm.

Everything he told you is a half truth wrapped in a lie.

Xavier’s words from our night on the terrace consumed me. Jordan preyed on weakness. I have to approach this from a position of strength.

Strategic, calm, steady.

“I need your help with something.” I straightened, regaining my composure. “How feasible is it to locate investment records from when you started?”

An hour after my father went back to his hotel, I paced around the living room.

Bringing down Jordan will take finesse and the element of surprise. Not to mention balls of steel.

If Xavier was willing to blow up his career and reputation to put a stop to all of this, so was I.

I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.

God, I missed him.

Purging all that emotion in front of my dad acted as a reset. The path to my happiness, to Xavier’s happiness — our happiness— crystalized.

No more playing small. It’s time to fight fire with fire.

I scrolled through my contacts list, dialed the number, and held my breath.

“I’ve been expecting your call.” Bennet answered on the first ring. Does this man ever sleep? I could practically see his amber eyes light up with intrigue. “What can I do for you at this hour, Ms. Chase?”

I skipped over any pleasantries and got right to the point. Bennet Logan had more connections than the royal family. If I ended up in his debt for the rest of my life, it’s a burden I’m willing to carry.