The Devious Husband: Sierra and Xavier’s Story (The Windsors)

My heart is racing as I step out of the car wearing a red bespoke Raven Windsor Couture gown, paired with lipstick in the same shade. It has a slit from mid-thigh all the way down, and a gorgeously cut sweetheart neckline. It’s a dress that’s supposed to make me feel confident as I step into my enemy’s lair, but somehow, I can’t shake my nerves.

My eyes widen as I walk into the grand theatre room tonight’s party is being held in, pure fury stealing away my anxiety. Everything is exactly as I’d imagined it, right down to the three-tier chandeliers and the beautiful ceiling roses. That rotten pile of poop. He clearly spared no expense, duplicating my vision right down to the last detail, and he’s been showered with undeserved praise because of it. God, I hate him.

My hand trembles ever so slightly as I grab a glass of champagne off a tray and thank the server, my thoughts in disarray. Why is he suddenly provoking me again after a ceasefire that lasted over two years, and what did he take from me? It’s been months since I last saw Xavier in person, and I’m not sure what to think of his recent behavior. I don’t understand what his motive is, but I know Xavier Kingston well enough to know he’s got one.

“Sierra Windsor?”

I look up to find a familiar man walking up to me. His mid-length brown curly hair bounces just a touch with each step he takes toward me, and his smile lights up his blue eyes. “Graham Thorne,” I say, smiling involuntarily.

He grins as he pulls me into a hug, holding me tightly for a moment before stepping back, his eyes roaming over my face. “I haven’t seen you in years,” he says, his tone as kind as I remember it.

Graham and I are childhood friends who were frequently forced into each other’s orbits by my grandmother and his parents. We always knew we’d both end up working in real estate, by virtue of our families’ companies, and because of it, we were strongly encouraged to become friends. We were really close, growing up.

“I’m not the one who decided to work in the Mediterranean for years,” I tell him, my tone teasing. “I can’t believe you left me!”

He smirks at me and begins to reply when a hush falls over the room. I don’t even have to look to know who just walked in. Xavier Kingston has always had that effect on people, and I’m not sure he even realizes it.

Graham and I both turn, and my heart tightens when I find him walking into the room with Valeria on his arm. They look incredible together in their matching black outfits, both of their auras exuding class and power. I hate that he’s still so handsome, that I still can’t look away when he walks into a room. That dark hair, his sharp cheekbones, and that stubble I can’t help but want to touch… I suppose it makes sense for the devil to come in an enticing package. Makes it easier to trick unsuspecting souls.

“Her beauty perfectly complements his allure,” Graham remarks, and I tighten my grip on my champagne glass as my eyes zero in on the diamond necklace she’s wearing. Before I can catch myself, my eyes trail to her ring finger, and something heavy unknots in my stomach when I find it empty. Xavier’s alarm system clearly stated Mrs. Kingston, and neither of them wearing wedding rings doesn’t necessarily mean they haven’t gotten married. It just means they don’t want anyone to know — yet.

I haven’t been able to get the article The Herald published out of my mind, and a dark emotion I can’t quite identify rushes through me as I watch her jewelry sparkle underneath the chandeliers I chose. Chances are that at least one of the pieces of jewelry Xavier commissioned from Laurier was an engagement ring.

I grit my teeth and begin to wonder why I even came here at all, only to freeze in place when I feel Xavier’s eyes on mine. He stops walking, and Valeria looks over her shoulder, following his gaze. She smiles at me so sweetly that I instantly feel guilty for the faint and entirely irrational animosity I feel toward her. I lower my head for a moment before turning toward Graham, not wanting to look too closely at Xavier.

“I guess the rumors are true,” Graham says, smiling at me knowingly.

“What rumors?” I ask, my tone sharper than I’d intended.

“That the rivalry between Xavier and you is the fiercest the industry has ever witnessed.”

I roll my eyes and put my champagne glass down. “He’s an unscrupulous asshole,” I mutter. I’m tempted to tell Graham about my design plans, and how everything around us was once my grandest vision, but for some reason, I bite my tongue.

Other than my sisters-in-law, no one knows about any of the things Xavier and I have done to each other throughout the years. Everyone knows that we fiercely compete for the same projects, but no one knows just how far we’ve gone in our attempts to sabotage each other. I’m not even sure why we’ve always kept our antics under wraps when either of us could’ve gotten the authorities involved and permanently put an end to our rivalry.

“An unscrupulous asshole, huh?” Graham repeats, looking amused. “I see you’re still a sore loser.”

I gape at him in pure outrage, and he bursts out laughing. “What did you just say?” I ask, biting back my smile. Graham is one of very few people that I could always be completely myself with. He’s never been intimidated by the Windsor surname and everything that comes with it. In a world filled with pretense and fake friends, he’s always been a breath of fresh air.

“Oh, come on,” he says, laughing. “He’s far from unscrupulous. The man spends a lot of his spare time building schools, hospitals, and public housing for the vulnerable — all with his own money.”

I groan and bury a hand in my hair. No one knows him like I do. Everyone sees his charitable heart and his kindness, but they don’t know it’s all a facade. “Xavier Kingston is the devil is disguise,” I tell him, only to notice Graham looking past me, wide-eyed.

“Sierra.”

My heart instantly begins to race at the sound of Xavier’s voice, and I look over my shoulder to find his dark eyes filled with the kind of intensity that makes it hard to look away. He smiles in that way he always does when he sees me, his expression a blend of provocation and amusement. “Care to dance with the devil?”

I narrow my eyes as I turn to face him. Of course he’d catch me badmouthing him, and of course he wouldn’t turn a blind eye. I’m tempted to reject the hand he’s holding out for me, but if I did that, I’d never get answers to the question that led me here. What did he take from me?

I grit my teeth as I place my hand on top of his, ignoring the little thrill that runs down my spine as I do so. Something akin to relief flashes through Xavier’s eyes as he pulls me onto the dance floor and against his chest in one smooth move. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, Kitten.”

I narrow my eyes and purposely step on his toes. “You left me no choice. I’m here, and we’re on the dance floor, so tell me what you took from me.”

He looks at the band for a few moments, and just like that, Por una Cabeza begins to play. Xavier smirks at me as we both take our positions for the tango, like we’ve done so many times before. He requests this exact song every time we find ourselves at the same formal events, and though I’d never admit it to him, I’ve come to consider the song ours.

“There is always a choice,” he tells me as we dance around the room, our bodies moving together far better than they should. I’m not a short woman, but in his arms, I feel tiny. “And you chose me.”

My leg hooks around his, our eyes locking. “Coercion and choice are vastly different concepts, Xavier. Though I understand that might be hard for you to grasp.”

We’re both breathing hard as we move together, neither of us looking away from the other. “I’ve always loved the way you say my name.”

My eyes widen a fraction, and my heart skips a beat. “Tell me what you stole.”

He smirks, his eyes roaming over my dress and lingering on my chest. “You look dazzling, my darling kitten, but your neck looks awfully bare tonight.”

I pause in his arms, something hot and dark unfurls in my stomach. “You should know better than to say something like that to me,” I snap, unable to control my temper. I can’t stand men that flirt with other women even though they’re in committed relationships. There’s nothing I hate more than unfaithfulness.

I push away from him, coming to my senses. How does he always do this to me? I never should’ve agreed to dance with him in the first place. When I’m around him, I’m never quite myself. He pushes my buttons like no one else has ever been able to. I’m convinced Xavier Kingston was born to aggravate me.

“What did I do wrong?” he asks, sounding wounded.

I narrow my eyes at his seemingly genuine confusion, knowing full well that this is what he does. Xavier never lies to me, but he’ll talk in circles and deceive me all the same. “You should treat her better,” I tell him, my tone betraying my anger.

“Treat who better?” he asks, his expression bewildered.

“Your date,” I snap as I push against his chest. “Forget it, Xavier. I don’t know what you took from me, but I strongly recommend you return it before I find out what it is, or so help me God, you’ll rue the day you broke our truce by stealing my design plans.”

He smirks at me in that way he does, like I’m some kind of damn pet of his. “I won’t return what I took until I get what I want, Sierra. Not a day sooner.”

For a moment, I’m tempted to ask him what it is he wants, but I know better than to pay these silly games with him.

Never again.

Never in a million years will I let Xavier Kingston occupy all my thoughts again.