Chapter 165: Vigilantee Xavier
April let out a slow, quiet breath, dropping her hand back to her side.
It was a variable she hadn’t fully accounted for in her survival calculations—the stubborn weight of human attachment. But as she looked toward the brass exit door where Nat was waiting, she pushed the thought aside, locking it away in the back of her mind.
Whether it was a dream or a reality, she would accept their offerings. If they wanted to hand her the world, she would take it and use it to build her fortress so high that the end of the world would never be able to touch her.
She smoothed down her white dress, picked up her black blazer from the seat, and walked forward to join him in the shadows of the corridor.
The ride back was quiet, mostly with April checking her phone every now and then until her eyelids grew heavy and she rested against the window panel, watching the streets with its neon and bright flickering lights.
Finally, Nat pulled up at Reed estate. The digital dashboard clock glowed a cold, faint neon blue: 11:48 PM.
Nat shifted the gear into park but left his hands resting lazily over the steering wheel. He turned his head, his eyes catching the dim ambient light of the cabin as he gave her a longer, slower look.
"Dream about me, sweetheart," he murmured, the corners of his mouth twitching into his signature smirk.
April didn’t voice a single word of response. She simply rolled her eyes behind the glass of the passenger window, pushed the heavy door open, and stepped out onto the gravel.
With a clean swing of her arm, she shut the door behind her, cutting off his deep, low chuckle as the vehicle turned around and tore back through the estate gates.
She walked across the courtyard and got to the glass entrance doors of the villa, stepping into the grand, dimly lit foyer.
The house was completely still, the high vaulted ceilings swallowed by the midnight shadows—except for the formal dining hall. A soft, warm glow washed over the polished mahogany table, and there sat Xavier.
He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, his suit jacket draped over the back of the chair, his tablet lying flat and untouched beside a lukewarm cup of untouched tea.
For the past three hours, Xavier’s mind had been caught in a relentless, suffocating loop of calculations.
He knew she was inside the black market under the protection of the Golden Dragon, but the volatile, lawless nature of that underground network was a variable he couldn’t control.
What if an ambush occurred? What if some reckless syndicate head pulled a weapon and a chaotic crossfire broke out?
He had picked up his phone to call her multiple times, his thumb hovering over her contact details, but each time he had forced his hands down, refusing to stifle her or project his own anxieties onto her space.
The moment the glass front doors clicked open and her light, steady footsteps echoed against the marble, Xavier stood up—the movement so sudden and fast that his chair scraped sharply against the floor.
Realizing his own lack of composure, he immediately stopped, quickly smoothing down the front of his vest and adjusting his cuffs to force his posture back into a controlled, professional line.
April stopped near the entrance of the dining hall, her black blazer slung over her arm now as her dark eyes locked onto his tense form. "Why are you up at this hour, Xavier? It is almost midnight."
"I was waiting for you," Xavier said, his voice deep, carrying a raw, gravelly note of genuine relief that he couldn’t entirely mask. He took a slow breath, checking her frame for any signs of distress. "I was... a bit worried. But it seems everything went safely."
April walked into the room, stepping up to the massive table. "Yes. Everything went exceptionally well."
Instead of immediately heading upstairs to her bedroom, she pulled out a chair directly next to him and sat down, letting her tense shoulders relax against the backrest.
Xavier silently followed her movement, returning to his own seat, the heavy weight of his anxieties completely dissolving just by having her within arm’s reach again.
"Did the auction meet your expectations, Miss April?" he asked softly, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her profile. "Or was it not what you anticipated?"
"It went significantly better than I calculated," April said, a faint, rare trace of satisfaction tinting her flat voice. "The initial crate of twenty vials closed at a final bid of twenty-three billion."
Xavier’s brows rose slightly, a genuine sense of relief settling over his sharp features. "Twenty-three billion. That is three billion higher than your initial separate valuation matrix. It seems the competitive nature of the market worked out in your favor."
"Yes," April agreed, her mind already organizing the numbers. "The entire sum will remain within Nat’s accounts until the invoices for the fortress dome structures are finalized this week. He will pay the engineering contractors directly, and transfer the remaining surplus to my private account."
Hearing her speak of Nat’s involvement so smoothly caused a tiny, instinctual tightening in Xavier’s chest, but he kept his expression calm and steady. "An efficient loop. At least you secured the necessary capital for Phase Two."
They sat in a quiet, peaceful stillness for a few moments, the soft hum of the villa’s climate control filling the space between them. It was a comfortable, light conversation, free of the frantic survival pressures that usually governed her days.
Realizing the faint lines of fatigue lingering near the corners of her eyes, Xavier gently leaned back. "You’ve had an incredibly long evening, Miss April. You should head upstairs and get some proper rest."
April nodded slowly, pushing her chair back as she stood up. "Goodnight, Xavier." She whispered softly.
"Goodnight, April."
She turned and began walking toward the grand staircase. But as her foot touched the first step, Nat’s heavy, low voice from the lounge suddenly echoed in her memory.
At the end of the day, I’ll be the villain for you. And if you ever need a saint, I bet Xavier Reed’s got that all covered.
April paused, her hand resting on the banister. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes tracing Xavier’s solitary figure as he sat under the warm light of the dining room, quietly picking up his cold tea, his posture still completely elegant, reliable, and protective even in the dead of night.
She didn’t say anything. She didn’t open her mouth to complicate their dynamic with unnecessary explanations. She simply gave a single, quiet nod of acknowledgement, turned back around, and walked up to her room to sleep.