Xavier's POV
After dropping Ace off at the clinic, I drove back home, the silence of the car doing little to quiet the thoughts running through my mind. I hadn't expected the situation at that mansion to be so dire, and seeing Ace like that—wounded and visibly troubled—left a sour feeling in my chest.
Pulling up to the driveway, I cut the engine and leaned back against the headrest for a moment. My house loomed over me—grand, elegant, and completely lifeless. The kind of place that looked perfect from the outside but felt hollow on the inside. My parents were probably off on some business trip or attending a gala. They barely took an interest in my life, not that I bothered to keep them updated anyway.
Sighing, I stepped out and headed inside, greeted by the same empty silence I'd grown used to. I made my way upstairs to my room, ignoring the housekeeper who offered a polite nod as I passed. My room was the only space that felt remotely mine—modern, sleek, and filled with little signs of my interests.
I shut the door behind me and tossed my jacket onto the bed. Letting out a deep breath, I sat at my desk and absentmindedly fiddled with my phone, scrolling through messages from work. Nothing urgent, thankfully.
My mind wandered back to Ace. Seeing him up close today brought back a memory I hadn't thought about in a long time—one I doubted Ace even remembered.
It was around six years ago during a summer festival. I had been dragged there by some friends who thought it would be a good way to "unwind." Typical rich-kid nonsense—spend some money, eat overpriced food, and pretend to care about the culture. I was about to head out when the soft melody of a piano caught my ear.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I followed the sound to a small stage where a young guy—probably around eighteen at the time—was playing effortlessly. The way his fingers danced across the keys made it seem like the piano was just an extension of himself. The melody was haunting yet beautiful, and I found myself standing there longer than I intended.
When he finished, the small crowd applauded, and I couldn't help but clap along. He looked up briefly, our eyes meeting, and for some reason, I walked over. He was wiping sweat from his forehead, looking a bit flustered from the sudden attention.
"Not bad," I commented, trying to sound nonchalant. "You play professionally?"
He shook his head with a small smile. "Nah, just a hobby. My parents taught me a bit. They're shamans, but they always had a thing for music."
"Shamans?" I repeated, raising an eyebrow.
He nodded, still catching his breath. "Yeah. They do exorcisms and stuff. It's kinda the family business."
I didn't know why that stuck with me. Maybe it was the casual way he spoke about something so out of the ordinary, or the way his eyes seemed both proud and a bit melancholic when he mentioned his parents. We only exchanged a few words after that—something about the festival and how he didn't usually perform in public. I left without even asking his name, but his face and that melody stuck with me.
Years later, when I needed someone reliable to handle paranormal cases for the company, his face came to mind almost instantly. I wasn't even sure it was the same guy at first—Ace Anderson. But when I looked into his record and found out about his background, it clicked. I never mentioned that night to him—figured he wouldn't remember me anyway.
I couldn't help but smirk a little at the thought. Funny how fate works sometimes. The guy I admired back then was now my business partner—still just as stubborn and resilient as I remembered.
I shook off the nostalgia and grabbed my phone, scrolling through the contacts. Maybe I should check up on him later. Just to make sure he's not doing anything reckless again.
Leaning back in my chair, I let out a long breath. Somehow, thinking about that old memory made the day feel a little less grim.
Sitting back in my chair, I couldn't shake off the worry gnawing at me. Ace might act tough, but even he has his limits. I pulled out my phone, hesitating for a moment before opening our chat. Normally, I wouldn't bother texting anyone after a job, but Ace was different.
I typed out a quick message.
"Hey, how's the arm? Did the doc say anything serious?"
I stared at the screen, debating whether that sounded too concerned. Maybe it did. I didn't want him thinking I was babying him or something. Deleting the second sentence, I rephrased it.
"Hey, how's the arm? Hope you're not doing anything stupid."
That sounded more like me—firm but not overly worried. I hit send and leaned back, spinning my phone in my hand as I waited for his reply.
A few minutes passed, and I couldn't help but think about how reckless he'd been. Running into that mansion unprepared like that—it wasn't like him. Was it because Phoenix was there? Did he push himself too far just to keep his brother safe?
My jaw clenched a little. I hated how uneasy it made me feel. I wasn't supposed to worry like this. Usually, I just gave orders, made deals, and moved on. But Ace wasn't just some employee. He was... well, more than that. A partner, sure, but something else, too.
The thought annoyed me, and I scoffed at myself. Since when did I start caring so much about one guy's well-being?
My phone buzzed, and I glanced down, seeing Ace's reply pop up. I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my face, even before I opened the message.
As soon as my phone buzzed, I picked it up, half-expecting some sarcastic comeback. Sure enough, Ace didn't disappoint.
"Arm's fine, Mr. Worrywart. I've been through worse. Don't lose sleep over me."
I rolled my eyes. Typical Ace—always downplaying his injuries like it's no big deal. I could almost see his cocky smirk through the screen. I knew he wasn't the type to admit he was in pain, but that wound looked nasty.
"Just because you've been through worse doesn't mean you can be reckless. Did you even disinfect it properly?" I texted back.
It didn't take long for him to reply.
"Nah, figured I'd just let it fester and see what happens. Maybe I'll grow a third arm."
I couldn't help but huff a laugh. He really had a way of brushing things off like it was all just a joke. I leaned back in my chair, letting out a deep breath.
"You're an idiot," I shot back. "Just make sure to treat it properly. Can't have you dropping dead before you finish the job."
A few seconds passed before his reply came through.
"Aw, worried about me? Didn't know you cared that much, Mr. CEO."
I rolled my eyes again, but a small smile tugged at my lips. He really was something else. I hesitated for a moment before typing out another message.
"Someone has to make sure you don't get yourself killed. Might as well be me."
I expected another snarky comeback, but he surprised me.
"Relax, I'll live. Phoenix already made me sit through his 'responsibility' lecture. I swear he's worse than you sometimes."
I couldn't help but chuckle. The thought of Phoenix scolding Ace was actually pretty amusing. At least he wasn't alone—someone was there to nag him when I couldn't.
"Good. Maybe he'll knock some sense into that thick skull of yours," I replied.
A few moments later, his response came in.
"Doubt it. Stubbornness runs in the family."
I shook my head, still smiling. I could picture him just lounging around like nothing happened, probably teasing Phoenix or messing with Kuro. Despite how much he tried to act tough, I knew he pushed himself too hard sometimes. I hated how it made me feel—this restless, unsettled worry I wasn't used to.
"Just... take care of yourself, alright? I'd rather not have to hunt you down for being an idiot."
There was a longer pause this time before he replied.
"Got it, Boss. Don't stress your pretty little head over me. I'll be back on my feet in no time."
Pretty little head? This guy. I couldn't tell if he was just being annoying or actually trying to flirt. Either way, I couldn't help but smirk at the screen.
"You wish, Anderson. Just don't get cocky. Rest up."
I put my phone down, still feeling that faint sense of relief. As annoying as he was, at least he was okay. I couldn't ask for much more than that.
I looked down at my phone, the last message from Ace still glowing on the screen. A smirk tugged at my lips as I leaned back in my chair.
"You wish, Anderson. Just don't get cocky. Rest up."
Fates made us meet again, and I wasn't about to let this chance slip. Not this time.
Back then, when I first saw him at that summer festival, I thought he was just some random pianist playing for fun. But something about his presence, the way his fingers moved across the keys with such ease, had caught my attention. I didn't even realize I was staring until he glanced up, those striking eyes locking with mine.
We talked, barely even a conversation—just small, casual remarks. But he had this charm, this easy confidence that wasn't forced. When he mentioned his family being shamans, I filed that away as just a random fact. Never thought I'd actually come to rely on him for something like this.
But now? Seeing him again, older, sharper, but still the same stubborn, sassy idiot... It was different. There was something oddly satisfying about watching him handle everything like it was no big deal. I couldn't help but admire that.
I wouldn't call it fate back then. Just coincidence. But now? Now I couldn't deny that something—or someone—gave me another shot at knowing him. And I'd be damned if I let that opportunity pass me by.
My phone buzzed again.
"Stop thinking about me so much. You'll get wrinkles."
I snorted, shaking my head. Yeah, I'd be thinking about him for a while, but he didn't need to know that. Yet.
This time, I was gonna play my cards right. No more missed chances. No more coincidences slipping through my fingers.
Fate had given me this shot, and I'd make sure it counted. Whether Ace liked it or not.