The Dangerous Past - Book cover

The Dangerous Past

Sissi Grandeur

Chapter 5

XAVIER

Pretending to be asleep was harder than I thought; however, during the years of marriage, my beautiful wife knew my habits, and I couldn’t raise more suspicion.

She obviously didn’t believe my story about the fight at night, and I wanted to kick my own ass for being so stupid and telling her such a lame excuse of a story.

But I just couldn’t tell her the truth. She was an innocent, kind person. This big mess had to be cleared up without her involvement. It would destroy her and our relationship if she found out about the dead prostitute in my bed.

I wasn’t willing to risk that. I would rather die than lose Angela and our kids.

My family meant the world to me, and even when I occasionally acted like an idiot, I loved them with all my heart, and I was prepared to do everything to make sure nothing would tear us apart.

Even pretending to be dead asleep while my wife was anxiously tapping on the screen of her phone.

With the right side of my face buried in the cushion, I did my best to breathe evenly while Angela was pacing back and forth in the small living room.

She was only a few feet away from me, and she didn’t close the door, so I couldn’t move as much as I wanted. I was sweating under the cover, nervously closing and opening my left eye to see what she was doing.

She hugged her torso with her arms, squeezing the cell phone in her hand tightly while she bit her lower lip. She was thinking about something, and her narrowed eyes were proof it was serious. I just hoped it had nothing to do with me.

As if the situation from this morning had only been a bad dream, I almost had a heart attack when my phone rang.

Normally, it would have been just a simple ringing tone, but this time, the loud sound made the small hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Not because of how the music sounds, but because Rammstein, the German rock band, was the favorite band of none other than Jasper Jocke.

I wasn’t a fan, and for sure, I would never make my phone scream for life when someone was calling me.

So, the nightmare from earlier became even worse, if that was possible.

My enemy, Mr. Jocke, had gotten into my cell and had access to everything in it: photos of my kids, my wife, my meetings, the numbers of my clients and business associates, and so much more. Life just couldn’t be better.

Groaning into the cushion and overcoming an urge to smash something, I answered the damn shouting thing. It was Aston, and my stomach twisted with uneasiness when I heard his worried voice.

“Man, you must come to my house,” he said nervously, and I sat up.

“What happened?” I asked, staring into the beautiful face of my gorgeous wife, who was watching me with raised eyebrows.

“The guy who should have done you know what,” he began, and I coughed awkwardly, just to make sure Angela didn’t hear anything. “He’s in my living room, demanding a meeting with you.”

“Is he a potential client?” I burst out, the first thing that came to mind, hoping helplessly that my wife would believe it.

“What the fuck?” Aston said, and the sound of the door closing was heard.

“Yes or no?” I pushed, averting my gaze to the window, trying to focus on the clear blue sky.

But it was the hardest thing to do when Angela was looking straight at me with her piercing eyes, like she wanted to read my thoughts.

“He is the most important client in the entire world, XAVIER!” Aston yelled from the other side, forcing me to take the phone away from my ear for a moment.

“Okay, okay.” I rolled my eyes, acting annoyed. “I’ll come. Send me the address.”

“Hurry, man, it’s serious.” And he hung up, leaving me speechless with my very curious wife watching my every move.

“What happened?” She asked, coming closer to the bed while I was doing my best to come up with a better excuse than a night fight.

“Aston is in trouble and needs my help,” I replied evasively, taking out the ripped jeans and white T-shirt from the closet.

The throbbing in my head lessened thanks to the painkillers I’d stuffed myself with, but it returned with full force when I was forced to think hard.

“It’s our second honeymoon, and you’re dealing with someone else’s problems, Xavier.” I clearly heard the pain behind her words, but ignoring Aston wasn’t an option.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” I finished my clothing and moved to her, taking her beautiful, pouting face into my hands. “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she mumbled, frowning at me. I barely brushed my lips against her forehead in a tender, apologetic kiss before she flinched away from me and stomped into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

With a heavy, guilty feeling gnawing at me, I left the hotel room, giving orders to my men not to leave my wife out of their sight for one second.

From the car, I called the security in New York to make sure my kids were safe and that my dad was okay too.

Getting out of my sport car in front of a modern apartment building in Naples, I sighed exasperatedly, preparing myself for a few rounds of negotiations.

If the man who was waiting for me had found out who was with a dead girl in the room, he would want more money or some favor from me.

I was ready to pay anything he would ask for in order to bury this issue and its consequences under the ground, but my gut was literally yelling at me that I was being extremely naive.

The more realistic part of me knew it was my greatest wish—but it remained only a wish.

So, gathering all my patience and strength, I focused on the task in front of me: to get out of this mess unharmed or at least with the least damage possible.

Aston opened the door of his apartment almost at the same moment I stepped out of the elevator; he clearly had cameras in the building. He looked all restless and jittery as he hurried me inside.

“He is very dangerous and immensely difficult to get along with. Be careful,” he warned, blinking rapidly. I noticed the drops of sweat on his forehead and the tremor in his hands. He was losing his shit.

“I’ll do my best.” I slammed his shoulder in a brotherly way, acting all cool and collected while my stomach was churning with dread and my heart was on the verge of collapse. I hadn’t been so tense in a very long time.

I entered the spacious modern living room with my head held high. I quickly scanned the place for any hidden threats, mentally face-palming myself, because I surely wasn’t one for overpowering anybody bigger than me.

I just saw too many movies, and it seemed like the right thing to do—to be prepared for the worst.

In front of the French window, with a glass of whiskey in his left hand, stood a man I had never seen in my life.

He could be in his fifties, with gray hair and a proud posture, and was dressed in an expensive Italian three-piece suit with a white shirt and dark tie.

He was giving typical mob boss vibes, and because of Aston’s upset behavior, I deduced it was exactly his work orientation.

“Good afternoon,” I said politely in a neutral tone, staring at his stoic face. He didn’t move a muscle; he just watched me as I stood next to the sofa, holding his gaze.

I took it as a test. If I had moved my eyes away too quickly, he would have known I was shit scared of him.

But if I held on long enough, he would find out I wasn’t some punk who he could bully with his demands.

And when he narrowed his dark eyes at me and tilted his head to the side, my determination to show him I wasn’t someone who would flinch only grew.

It was mostly my stubborn ego, and I was aware I could get into a lot of unnecessary trouble with this man, yet I couldn’t just give up. He was holding all the power; I had to present my strength.

“Mr. Xavier Knight in person,” he said after another few long seconds with a strong Italian accent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“And you are?” I lifted one eyebrow at him as I sat on the couch. I acted casually like it was my home he invaded, but I was anxious to get out of his sight as soon as possible.

“Your guardian angel, young man,” he replied, leisurely walking to the armchair to sit opposite me.

“I already paid for your services. Why do you need a meeting in person?”

He smirked and unbuttoned his expensive jacket, sitting down and crossing his legs. He was testing my patience with his slow reactions.

“It’s not every day my small organization works in favor of a superstar, Mr. Knight,” he answered in a lecturing tone, like I should have known this in the first place. My gut was telling me this was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Please understand; I’m your huge fan, and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet you.”

“Cut the bullshit,” I said, leaning closer over the coffee table and watching as the smirk on his face widened into a sinister smile. “What do you want? More money?”

“I have enough money for another lifetime.” He waved his hand nonchalantly, dismissing my assumption. “What I don’t have is your influence.”

He sipped his drink lazily, leaving his words to linger in the air. A million scenarios popped up in my head, but none of them made sense.

“Just tell me what you want,” I demanded, refusing to muse about it. I would only think about the worst.

“For starters, I would like to invite you to a ball.” He fished a white envelope from the inner pocket of his jacket and handed it to me.

“For starters?” I echoed, glaring at him and ignoring the invitation.

“You will see, Xavier, we can both benefit from this collaboration.” He stood up, letting the envelope fall on the coffee table. I was glaring at him, unable to say a word. The audacity of this man.

“Or together, we can go to the police station and tell the officers what happened in that room. Would you like that?”

“You prick,” I hissed through gritted teeth, fisting my palm.

“I’ll see you at the ball. Take your lovely wife with you. You don’t want her to be alone in the hotel too long.” He smiled knowingly and then walked off as I fumed in Aston’s living room.

“What did he want?” Aston asked the moment the man closed the front door. He was pale as a sheet of paper, and he was almost chewing his nails from nervousness.

“We are going to a ball,” I snapped, rising to my feet. “Find yourself a date or take your girlfriend; I don’t care, but you’ll be there with me.”

“What?” he whined, shaking his head resolutely. “I’m not going into the viper’s den. You must be crazy if you want to go there.”

“We don’t have a choice.” I turned my back to him so he couldn’t see the worry on my face. “We called a dangerous man for help, and now he wants his payment. And we’ll be there to pay our debt and leave with a clean slate.”

With that, I began to make my way out of Aston’s apartment. “That’s a fucking fairytale, Xavier,” Aston groaned, grabbing my arm to stop me on the threshold.

“And most fairytales have happy endings,” I pointed out, trying to give him some hope even when I didn’t have much of it myself.

“This won’t end well,” he whispered, handing me a silver invitation to the ball.

“See you there,” I said, and I quickly disappeared, taking three stairs to my car parked outside. Only when I was safely seated behind the steering wheel did I allow myself to panic.

This was bad, very bad, and I was in the middle of it. I could end up dead in the back alley or, worse, behind bars for a crime I didn’t commit.

At the beginning, the second honeymoon looked like the best thing to revive our marriage, but now, it was something that could bury my family and my relationship under the ground. And I didn’t know how to stop it.

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