Chapter 318 - 0318: What Are You Doing Here, Little Thief?

Chapter 318: Chapter 0318: What Are You Doing Here, Little Thief?

Elena’s Point Of View

Seven days had passed since that kitchen-counter interrogation with my sister, Heather. Seven days of her voice echoing in the back of my mind like a skipping record: You like him, you like him, you like him.

I’d tried everything to silence it... work, wine, mindless television, but the words kept resurfacing at the worst possible moments, usually right as I was finally drifting off to sleep.

I’d spent the last three of those days hiding from the world. The company... the empire I usually spent twenty-four hours a day worrying over, was running itself. I’d dumped everything onto my poor assistant, Clara, and the Operations Director, Lucas, leaving them with a vague email that basically said "keep the building from burning down until I return." I hadn’t even bothered to check my inbox since. A version of myself from two weeks ago would have been horrified at the thought of such neglect.

Lucas had texted me yesterday asking if I was dead. Honestly, looking at myself in the mirror, it was a fair question. My skin resembled dull paper, my hair was doing some weird, horizontal frizz thing from three days of unbothered neglect, and the sheer, driving zeal I usually had for literally anything had shrunk to a microscopic speck. I barely recognized the woman staring back at me, hollow-eyed and listless, nothing like the composed executive who commanded boardrooms without breaking a sweat.

I was exhausted. Not the kind of tired you fix with an extra hour of sleep, but that hollow, heavy bone-fatigue where even your thoughts wade through thick mud. The kind of exhaustion that makes you wonder if you’ll ever feel normal again. I’d forgotten what normal even felt like.

"Screw this," I muttered to the empty living room, dropping my third consecutive piece of burnt toast onto the plate. The acrid smell of charred bread filled the air, but I barely noticed. I hadn’t been able to focus on anything as simple as toast in days... my mind kept wandering, circling back to him like a moth helplessly drawn to a flame it knew would burn. "Screw him. If he doesn’t have the decency to call me, if he’s just going to vanish into thin air after turning my entire life upside down, then I am going to find him and give him a piece of my mind."

The frustration was a sudden, sharp spark in my chest, a welcome break from the numbness that had settled over me like a suffocating blanket. For the first time in days, I felt something other than that dull, aching emptiness, and I clung to it fiercely, afraid that if I let it go, I’d sink right back into the fog.

I rushed into the bathroom, did the bare minimum to look like a functioning human... which involved splashing cold water on my face and brushing my teeth with aggressive force that probably horrified my dentist, and threw on a pair of simple, faded jeans and a massive, oversized flannel shirt.

I didn’t care about looking like a CEO today. I looked like a woman on a warpath, and that felt exactly right.

I grabbed my purse from the counter, the keys jingling loudly in the quiet house, and marched out the door with a sense of purpose I hadn’t felt in days. For the first time since Heather’s relentless teasing had planted that seed of doubt in my chest, I felt like myself again... reckless, determined, unwilling to sit and wait for answers that weren’t coming on their own.

The problem was, I didn’t actually know where a renegade Sinclair lived when he wasn’t being a shadow. The only concrete, brick-and-mortar place I had ever associated with Jaxx was the bar... the underground, sleek, slightly dangerous establishment that felt entirely too much like his natural habitat. It was the only thread I had to pull, and I intended to yank it until something gave.

The drive across the city felt endless. The midday Texas heat baked the hood of my car while my mind ran in furious, frantic circles. What if he wasn’t there? What if he was back with his grandfather? What if he’d left the state entirely? What if I was making a complete fool of myself, chasing after a man who clearly didn’t want to be found?

Each possibility felt worse than the last, and by the time I reached downtown, my resolve had curdled into something closer to dread.

By the time I pulled up to the heavy iron gates of the building, my palms were slick against the steering wheel, and my heart hammered against my ribs.

The security guards at the perimeter fence recognized my car instantly. The main guard, a massive guy with a scarred knuckle who usually looked like he ate gravel for breakfast, gave me a quick, respectful nod. He granted me immediate entry into the private underground garage without a single question, and I wondered briefly if that meant Jaxx was actually inside, or if the man simply didn’t care enough to stop me either way. The heavy iron gates rolled back with a low, mechanical groan that echoed off the damp concrete walls.

I parked the car haphazardly, not even caring that my back tire was hovering over the yellow painted line. The garage was dark, smelling of oil, expensive exhaust, and old concrete... scents that reminded me of the first time I’d come here, nervous and uncertain, back when I still believed I could keep Jaxx Sinclair at arm’s length.

My sneakers made a flat, hollow clicking sound as I walked straight toward the private elevator at the back of the structure. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighted with anticipation and dread in equal measure.

I swiped the keycard he’d given me months ago, half-expecting it to beep red and reject me. Part of me wondered if he’d already deactivated my access, cutting me out of his life as completely as he’d vanished from mine. The thought alone made my chest ache in a way I refused to examine too closely. But the little light flashed a steady, welcoming green. The doors slid open with a soft, expensive hiss.

I pressed the button for the top floor. The lift moved upward with a smooth, sickening speed that made my stomach drop. My reflection stared back at me from the polished steel walls - disheveled, determined, possibly unhinged. I almost laughed at the sight of myself, this frazzled, furious woman who bore little resemblance to the composed CEO everyone thought they knew.

Even now, with my brain fried from exhaustion, I was still so completely confused by why he kept a permanent, hyper-luxurious suite directly above a noisy underground bar. It was peak Jaxx behavior... hiding in plain sight, living right on top of the chaos he created. Always the contradiction. Always just out of reach, even when he was standing right in front of me.

The elevator chimed. The doors slid open directly into the small, private foyer of his penthouse suite. The air in here was different... cool, smelling faintly of his familiar cedarwood cologne and expensive leather.

But under that, there was a stale, unlived-in quality that made my heart stutter. The scent of absence. It was as though the space itself were holding its breath, waiting for him to return and breathe life back into it.

I walked up to the heavy mahogany door, my fingers trembling slightly as I punched in the numeric password.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Click.

The lock turned. I pushed the door open and stepped into the sprawling, minimalist living room, my breath catching in my throat.

"Jaxx?" I called out, my voice sounding small and fragile against the high concrete ceilings.

Nothing. Silence met me, heavy and suffocating. The kind of silence that screams louder than any words. It pressed down on me, making the vast, beautifully furnished space feel suddenly claustrophobic.

I let out a long, ragged sigh, my shoulders dropping as the anger temporarily leaked out of me, leaving only that massive, crushing fatigue. The adrenaline that had carried me here was already fading, replaced by a hollow disappointment that settled in my chest like a stone. I walked over to the long, low leather couch and dropped my heavy purse casually onto the cushions, not even caring when it tipped over and spilled a few lipsticks onto the dark fabric.

I walked around the space, my eyes taking in every detail with a desperate kind of hunger, as though searching for some clue, some sign of him I might have missed. It was completely empty.

Everything looked exactly, painfully the way it was when I’d last been here... the same dark gray throw blankets draped over the chairs, the same neat stack of architectural magazines on the glass table, not a single thing out of place. It was like a museum dedicated to his absence. Like he’d never really lived here at all. Or worse, like he’d already moved on, leaving this place behind the way he’d left me.

The heat from the drive was still sticking to my skin, making the heavy flannel shirt feel like a wool blanket in the middle of summer. "Ugh, I’m suffocating," I muttered, my fingers working the buttons of the oversized shirt.

I ripped it off, tossing it carelessly onto the back of a lounge chair, leaving me in just my black, off-shouldered crop top and jeans. It was much better. The cool air from his central ventilation hit my bare shoulders with a grateful chill, raising goosebumps along my arms.

I walked into the kitchen, my throat feeling like it was coated in dust. I opened the massive stainless-steel fridge... which was practically empty except for a few bottles of imported beer and mixers, and grabbed a cold bottle of water. I cracked the cap open and drank almost the entire thing in one long, greedy draft, the ice-cold liquid shocking my system and clearing some of the fog from my head.

"Where are you, you idiot?" I whispered to the empty kitchen island, setting the plastic bottle down with a soft thud. The words felt small and useless against the silence, but saying them out loud made me feel a little less alone.

My legs felt like lead weights now. The adrenaline from my little breakout had completely drained away, replaced by a heavy, dizzying fog that made every step feel like wading through water. My muscles trembled with the effort of simply standing upright. I wandered back into the master bedroom, my gaze settling on the massive, king-sized bed with its dark, crisp linens that looked impossibly inviting.

The rational part of my brain screamed warnings, but exhaustion had long since drowned out reason. I only meant to sit down for a second... just to rest my aching back, just to collect my scattered thoughts before I figured out my next move. I told myself I wouldn’t stay long, that I’d be up and pacing again within minutes.

I sat on the edge of the mattress, and the softness of the down comforter instantly pulled at my exhausted limbs. The fabric felt like clouds beneath my fingertips. I leaned back against the mountain of pillows, crossing my arms over my chest as my eyes traced the lines of the ceiling. The plaster seemed to swim above me, patterns forming and dissolving in my vision like shapes in smoke.

Within seconds, the room began to blur at the edges. My eyelids felt as though they were lined with sand, dropping down, heavy and unyielding. I fought against the pull of sleep, knowing I shouldn’t let my guard down here, in his space, but my body had other plans. I didn’t even realize I was falling until the darkness swallowed me whole, dragging me into a deep, dreamless sleep born of pure exhaustion.

I don’t know how much time passed... minutes, hours, the world outside could have ended for all I knew. Time had become meaningless in that void, and for once, my mind was blessedly, completely quiet.

But then, slowly, the coldness of the room started to recede. A strange, thick warmth began to envelop me, like a heavy, protective shield pulling me out of the deep fog of sleep. I felt a familiar weight... the solid, unmistakable presence of something massive beside me, a steady, rhythmic rise and fall against my side.

My unconscious mind registered safety in that rhythm, even as alarm bells should have been ringing. The scent of cedarwood and rain suddenly overwhelmed my senses, filling my nose, wrapping around me like a physical blanket. It was distinctly masculine, distinctly him, and some distant part of my consciousness recognized it even before I fully woke. That recognition sent a flutter through my chest that I couldn’t quite name, a strange mixture of relief and something far more dangerous.

My eyebrows furrowed in my sleep. I groaned softly, my limbs feeling heavy and uncooperative as my brain slowly, sluggishly kicked back into gear. Something felt different. Wrong. Or maybe right in a way that terrified me more than anything else could.

I opened my eyes. The dim light of evening filtered through the sheer curtains, casting long, gray shadows across the bed. Hours must have passed while I slept. I blinked once. Twice. My vision slowly focused, adjusting to the muted twilight.

There was a face barely three inches from mine.

Jaxx lay there, propped up on his elbow, his dark, unruly hair falling over his forehead in a way that should have been disheveled but somehow looked intentional. His piercing eyes stared down at me with an intensity that made the breath completely vanish from my lungs.

Those eyes held something I couldn’t quite decipher - concern mixed with something darker, more possessive, something that made my pulse stutter before I’d even fully processed what I was seeing.

He looked tired... there were faint, dark circles under his eyes that I’d never noticed before, evidence of sleepless nights that made me wonder what had been keeping him awake, whether it had been me, or guilt, or something else entirely, but that sharp, knowing look remained entirely intact.

One of his large, warm hands rested casually on the mattress right next to my waist, effectively trapping me between his chest and the pillows. The heat radiating from his body was almost overwhelming, seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes and making my skin tingle with awareness. Every rational thought I’d arrived with evaporated in an instant, replaced by the overwhelming fact of his nearness.

My brain completely short-circuited. The shock hit me like a physical jolt of electricity that shot straight down my spine, setting every nerve ending ablaze. My heart hammered against my ribs so hard I was certain he could hear it.

"AH!" I screamed, the sound tearing out of my throat as I frantically tried to scramble backward. My elbows slipped against the silk sheets, finding no purchase. Panic flooded my system, overriding every other sensation. My back hit the headboard with a sharp thud that sent a spike of pain through my shoulder blades, and my hands came up defensively between us, trembling slightly. "How... how did you get here?!"

Jaxx didn’t move an inch, didn’t even flinch at my screeching. The corner of his mouth twitched with barely suppressed amusement. He just let out a low, incredibly lazy chuckle that vibrated through the mattress and seemed to resonate in my chest, settling somewhere deep in my core. His eyes tracked my panicked movements with a slow, dangerous amusement, like a predator watching prey that had nowhere left to run... except this predator looked almost fond, almost relieved, beneath all that easy arrogance.

A hint of a smile played at the corner of his mouth, making him look both infuriating and devastatingly attractive. The combination made me want to slap him and pull him closer at the same time... a contradiction that only added to my confusion, one that had apparently become the defining feature of whatever this was between us.

"Elena," he murmured, his voice rough and deep from whatever he’d been doing before he found me. The sound of my name on his lips sent an involuntary shiver down my spine that I desperately hoped he didn’t notice. His gaze softened slightly, though the intensity never wavered, and for one unguarded moment, I thought I saw something close to vulnerability flicker across his face before he buried it again.

"You’re in my bed, in my suite, using my password... and you’re asking me how I got here?" He paused, letting the absurdity of my question hang in the air between us, clearly enjoying the way it left me speechless. "The real question is, what are you doing here, little thief?"