No, there was only one person ruthless enough to take a shot at Xander without hesitation and that person was Xavier.


    Julian knew it, but he wasn’t about to voice it aloud, at least not to Samantha.


    Instead, he tried a different approach. "Samantha, you’re exhausted. Why don’t you step outside for some air? I’ll let you know the moment the doctores out."


    She hesitated, ncing toward the closed doors of the operating room. But after a moment, she nodded. "Fine. But let me know right away."


    With that, she turned on her heel and walked away.


    The night air was crisp against Samantha’s skin, tugging at her red curls as she stepped outside.


    She exhaled deeply, trying to clear the tension knotting her shoulders.


    But just as she started to rx, her eyesnded on a familiar figure at a corner.


    It was <i>Jennifer</i>.


    Her brow furrowed. Jennifer was standing with a man, her back to Samantha, embracing someone.


    Samantha’s eyes narrowed.


    Who the hell was that?


    She took a step forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the man’s face. But his head was angled away from her, and shadows cloaked his figure.


    Suspicion prickled at the back of her mind.


    Jennifer didn’t strike her as the type to have a secret lover. And why would he be here—at a hospital?


    Samantha debated confronting her. But before she could act, her phone buzzed in her pocket.


    She nced down. A message from Julian.


    <i>The doctor’s done removing the bullet.</i>


    She looked back toward Jennifer, but the man was gone.


    Vanished.


    Jennifer was now walking toward her, aposed smile on her lips.


    Samantha’s stomach twisted. "Was that a friend?"


    Jennifer’s expression didn’t change. "Yes."


    The short reply put Samantha on edge.


    She studied Jennifer for a moment longer before nodding slowly. "Right."


    Without another word, she turned and walked back inside.


    Anastasia watched her go, her own tension hidden beneath a carefully crafted mask.


    It was a good thing Samantha hadn’t seen his face.


    If she had, everything would have crumbled.


    Xandery in his hospital bed, his leg bandaged and throbbing. The pain was dull now, numbed by medication, but his pride still burned.


    He had been careless. Too careless. And now he was paying for it.


    "Sam, can you get me some food?" he asked.


    Samantha nodded immediately. "I’ll be back soon."


    With onest nce at him, she left.


    But Xander hadn’t sent her away because he was hungry.


    He had seen the worry in her eyes, the way she had hovered over him, unable to hide her distress. And for some reason, it made him feel... guilty.


    An unfamiliar, unwee emotion.


    Xander exhaled, rubbing his face. His emotions toward Samantha were a tangled mess. He didn’t want to think about it now.


    His thoughts were interrupted by the soft creak of the door.


    He looked up, expecting Samantha.


    But the moment he saw who stepped inside, his blood ran cold.


    Xavier.


    Xander tensed instinctively, his hands curling into fists beneath the nket.


    Xavier closed the door behind him with a quiet click, his movements slow, deliberate. A smirk yed at the corner of his lips as he walked toward the chair beside Xander’s bed and sank down with unhurried ease.


    "It’s been a long time, big brother," he murmured.


    Xander’s jaw clenched. "You little—"


    "Shh." Xavier raised a finger. "You’re in a hospital. Best not to cause a scene."


    Xander’s heart pounded. He was alone. No Julian. No Samantha. No one to witness whatever Xavier nned to do.


    Xavier could kill him right here and now.


    Xander forced himself to stayposed. "Were you the one who shot me?"


    Xavier didn’t answer.


    Silence.


    And that silence was answer enough.


    Xander exhaled sharply through his nose. "If this is revenge for Anastasia, you could have just finished the job." His lips curled into a cruel smirk. "I mean, I did kill your weak little wife, didn’t I?"


    Xavier didn’t flinch.


    Instead, he let out a quiet chuckle. "Ipletely understand why you did it," he said, his voice eerily calm. "You wanted to get back at me. I get that."


    Xander’s smirk faltered slightly.


    "But..." Xavier leaned in, his gaze dark and unyielding.


    "Have you ever stopped to wonder if I was framed for Arabe’s murder?"


    Xander’s breath hitched.


    Xavier tilted his head slightly. "What if she was killed by someone else?"


    Xander’s pulse thundered in his ears. He had spent years ming Xavier for Arabe’s death. Years seething with hatred.


    And now, in a single moment, Xavier was shattering the foundation of that hatred.


    Xander swallowed hard. "What are you trying to say?"


    Xavier exhaled slowly. Then, with chilling certainty, he said, "What if the person who murdered Arabe... was our father?"


    The world seemed to still.