Chapter 3

I clench my phone and lean back in my desk chair as I stare at the article my sister-in-law, Faye, forwarded this morning. Xavier Kingston spotted driving a yet to be released Windsor Motors supercar. My blood boils as I click on the video, Xavier’s irritatingly handsome face filling my screen.

“You’ve never driven a Windsor Motors car before, Mr. Kingston,” the reporter from The Herald says, looking annoyingly flustered as she smiles at him.

He smirks and glances over his shoulder, taking a moment to caress the hood of his new car with the tip of his finger before he turns to face the reporter again. His eyes are filled with a mixture of amusement and provocation — a unique blend he’s always reserved for me. “I had no choice,” he explains, an enticing chuckle leaving his lips. “My sweet kitten got her claws into all my other cars, so I had no choice but to buy a car I thought she might leave untouched.”

The reporter’s eyes widen. “Well, Windsor Motors cars are definitely robust,” she says, trying to mask her obvious confusion.

“They sure are,” he says, his eyes blazing. “I’m honored Lexington Windsor entrusted me with it several weeks before the car’s official release date. I can’t wait to find out what my darling kitten will think of this car, since she seemed to dislike my others.”

“The thought of you having a cute little kitten is incredibly endearing, Mr. Kingston. It certainly isn’t what I’d have expected.”

“I’m not sure cute is the right word to describe my kitten,” he says, laughing with far too much glee for a man who found all of his favorite toys damaged this morning. “Fierce, perhaps. Beautiful, for sure.”

“That piece of shit,” I say through gritted teeth as I swipe the article away, fuming. I hate that he’s right too — I’d never damage a Windsor Motors car. I’m seething as I stare out the window, my mind endlessly replaying how he referred to me as his sweet kitten on national TV. He’s unhinged, that’s for sure. Unhinged and insufferable.

He knows I hate that stupid nickname, which is exactly why he insists on using it. Before today, he’d never used it in earshot of anyone else, though. It started as a nearly-missed whisper when I danced with him at a charity gala eight years ago, and it turned into a taunt in empty hallways and boardrooms. “Kitten,” I repeat in my quiet office. He thinks I’m small and inconsequential, an unruly pet.

I’m seeing red as I call my brother, the CEO of Windsor Motors. He instantly declines my call, which doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. He must’ve known I’d be furious if he sold a car to Xavier Kingston, and he did it anyway. All of my brothers know I can’t stand Xavier, rightfully so. I’ve made it a point to complain loudly about his attempts to sabotage me, though somehow, they always seem to know I had it coming. Regardless, being the good brothers they are, they always have my back, so how the hell did Xavier get his hands on that car?

Sierra: call me back right now, or I’m calling Raya instead.

I smirk to myself when I notice my brother has read my text. Each and every single one of my brothers are complete suckers for their wives, and sadly for them, my sisters-in-law all love me dearly. There is no threat that works better than telling my brothers I’ll call their wives when they get on my nerves.

I chuckle when Lex calls me within a minute of reading my text, clearly having calculated the odds and deciding he’s better off facing me directly. “H-hello?” he says, sounding surprisingly nervous when his demeanor is always calm and playful.

“How could you?” I snap.

“I’m sorry,” Lex instantly says, thankfully not bothering to put up a pretense. “I owed him a favor, Sierra. Honestly, I’m surprised this is how he collected it. All he wanted was to buy the car early. Didn’t even ask to have it for free. There was honestly no reason to say no.”

“You owed him a favor?” I ask, confused. Why would my sweet older brother owe that devil a favor? There isn’t much of anything my brothers can’t accomplish themselves, so why would he ever have needed Xavier’s help?

“You still should’ve said no,” I argue. “Now it looks like the Windsors and Kingstons are friendly with each other, and who knows how he plans to capitalize on that? He can’t be trusted.”

Lexington laughs, clearly not understanding how grave his error is. “It’s fine, sis. I promise.”

Before I can even refute his words, my office door swings open, and a familiar-looking man walks in, my assistant on his heels. “Forget it. I’ll talk to you later,” I tell Lex, before ending the call.

I raise a brow at Xavier’s assistant, Sam. He smirks at me unapologetically, like he didn’t just force his way into my office. “Ms. Windsor,” he says, bowing his head. “Such a pleasure to see you again.”

“I’d say the feeling is mutual, but we both know I’d be lying,” I reply, before throwing my assistant, Claire, a reassuring smile. She looks distraught, even though she knows there’s no stopping Sam when he’s been sent on a mission by Xavier. This isn’t the first time he’s stormed into my office unannounced and uninvited, after all.

“You wound me, Ms. Windsor,” Sam says, throwing his hand over his chest dramatically.

I sigh and cross my arms. “What brings you here, Sam?” His eyes begin to light up, and I hold up my hand. “And spare me the theatrics, please.”

Sam’s smile drops, and he hands over a black envelope with a gold seal on it. My heart begins to beat a touch faster when I recognize my name written in gold, in Xavier’s handwriting. “Mr. Kingston requested that I deliver this to you, Ms. Windsor.”

I take it from him, but before I even have a chance to push it through my paper shredder, Sam tenses, his expression sobering. “He also told me he’d fire me if I didn’t ensure you read his letter.”

“What?” I ask, hesitating as I hold the envelope an inch above the shredder. “He would never fire you,” I begin to say, but truthfully, I’m not so sure. Xavier is erratic, after all.

“Have mercy on me, Ms. Windsor. If you choose to shred it after reading it, then so be it, but please… please help me keep my job.”

Damn him. I grit my teeth as I grab my letter opener and slice the letter open, pure fury radiating off me when I realize it’s an invitation to the grand opening of the theatre he stole my designs for — Artemis. “He can’t be serious.”

Sam looks down at his feet, but I could’ve sworn that for a split second, I saw a hint of a smile on his face. “There’s more, Ms. Windsor,” he says, his tone pleading. I’m so furious that I’m shaking as I reach for the handwritten letter, gold ink glittering on the black page.

My sweet Kitten,

Surely you didn’t think you’d get away with damaging my precious car collection? You, of all people, know me better than that.

In return for the damage you did, I took something of yours. Dance with me tonight, and I’ll consider giving it back. I won’t even mind if you blatantly and purposely step on my feet — after all, I’ve greatly missed the way you keep me on my toes.

Yours,

XK

Surely he’s joking? He stole my designs, yet he claims I’m the one in the wrong? “He’s delusional,” I whisper as I begin to wonder what he possibly could’ve taken. The possibilities are endless when it comes to him. “Completely and utterly out of his mind.”

Sam smiles. “I’m afraid so, Ms. Windsor,” he says, before stepping back. “I’ll see you tonight.”

I stare at Sam as he walks out, his smile far too smug for someone whose job was supposedly on the line mere minutes ago. I’m almost tempted to stop him and ask something I know I shouldn’t.

Does Xavier’s wife know he’s asking other women to dance with him? I know he has no romantic interest in me and is just doing it to taunt me, but still, it doesn’t seem right.