Love is a thief

The air was thick, laced with impatience and a slight stench of desperation. Board members leaned forward, their eyes fixed on Xavier, who sat at the head of the long mahogany table, detached. His fingers drummed a silent rhythm against the leather of his chair—tap, tap, tap—his mind elsewhere entangled in a war between longing and resentment.

"Are we ever going to find out who is behind the Eye Of The Ocean?" The question sliced through the tension like a whip's crack, stark against the murmur of suits and ties. They wanted answers. They craved the thrill of unmasking the enigma that had eluded them for far too long. But Xavier? His thoughts were ensnared by the cold shift in Cathleen’s affection; her once scorching gaze now warmed for another—a tiny angel that wrapped her world in pink innocence.

"Sir," a voice called, tentative, almost drowned by the heavy thud of Xavier's heart. It was the sound of a man splintered by his own making.

He turned slowly, as if every muscle fought aga