Page 44 of Xander

I fought an eye roll. It was a party, and she could drink if she damn well pleased. Jordan was barely tipsy, but my father didn’t tolerate public intoxication of any kind.

As predicted, he was disenchanted. “You’re tired. Maybe you should call it a night.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed, then glanced at her phone for the time. “You’re right. I should go home. I still have so much to pack.”

I reminded myself that she was packing to move into this house after their wedding.

With a curt nod and barely hidden disapproval, he said good night and turned on his heel.

My curious eyes studied Jordan. Did she pick up on what lay ahead if she went through with the wedding?

“You don’t have to leave,” I said carefully. “You’re not a kid that needs to be sent to bed.”

Jordan unlocked her phone to call an Uber. “I have to wake up early anyway.” She sounded guarded, a shield fortifying her walls.

My refusal to walk her down the aisle, especially after finding out what happened to her father, was downright cruel. But I could never put into words how much the idea of giving her away gutted me.

Jordan slipped on her perfected PR mask. “Have a great rest of the night, Xander.”

“Jordan—” I started, wanting to erase the hurt expression on her face.

“You don’t have to explain,” she spoke with conviction. “I understand.” I was surprised when she enveloped me in another embrace before bolting.

The hollowness in my chest expanded. I couldn’t move for several moments as Jordan left me with feelings I couldn’t decipher until it was too late.

The dark circles under my eyes were the least of my concerns. I hadn’t slept in days. The weather outside matched my somber mood, with clouds looming over the guests assembled for my father’s wedding.

“This way, Mr. Maxwell,” one of the wedding coordinators called out as soon as I stepped onto the estate grounds.

The newly redesigned courtyard sat at the back of the mansion and was elegantly decorated with string lights and flowers lining the aisles. Chiavari chairs sprawled across the concrete flooring, and guests loitered near the bar holding pre-ceremony drinks in hand.

I was shown to the yurt erected near the ceremony, where Jordan hid before her big entrance. I entered, only to freeze at the sight of luxurious white silk on the ground. The material fascinated me until I caught her reflection.

Jordan sat in front of an oversized mirror with her back to me, the lace and tulle of her satin gown hiding the chair underneath. Sparkling crystal beads intricately sewn onto the delicate fabric caught the streaming rays that were filtering in. Her glossy, wavy blonde locks beneath the netted veil shone like gold, resembling the sun.

We stared at each other through the mirror.

How could a mortal be this fucking beautiful? She was supposed to be thirty-four, but there were no lines on her face or even a hint of one, with skin smooth like silk and lips plump like ripe cherries.

I could’ve sworn her gaze fell appreciatively on my sleek, tailored suit. The deep black jacket hugged my shoulders, tapering at the waist. A crisp white shirt peeked out from under the jacket. Her eyes shifted from my torso to my broad shoulders before looking away.

Neither of us spoke for several moments. We hadn’t spoken since the night I declined to walk her down the aisle. Something had broken between us, and I had no idea how to fix it.

Every step I took toward her was slow and meaningful. Once I reached her, a smile broke out on her face, my crimes all but forgotten.

“I hear you’re walking me down the aisle,” she said meekly, nervous not to rock the boat.

I received an email that my mother would be evacuated from her home. Henry’s stipend covered her mortgage, bills, and the nurse who cared for her. He also paid for my and Jasper’s boarding school expenses, tuition, apartment, car, credit cards, and everything else.

However, he had been careful never to grant us any real cash. He was calculative and plotted against anyone who tried to help us. Once, I asked my cousins for a loan so Mom could become financially independent. Henry nixed the plan and threatened to make things worse if my cousins caught wind of our family drama again. I had kept them out of it ever since. The NHL draft was the closest I came to financial freedom.

One email was enough to prove that I wasn’t in the same league as Henry. Mom would be destitute if I didn’t comply with his wish to walk Jordan down the aisle. He did it on purpose. He could tell something was off between us, and this was his sadistic way of making me pay and see how far he could push me.

“Thank you for doing this,” Jordan said appreciatively, knowing I wasn’t thrilled about the circumstances.

A curt nod was the only answer I could manage. Even looking at her beautiful goddamn face was painful, and it hurt worse than anything imaginable. I just couldn’t figure out the reason behind it.

Gracefully, Jordan rose from the chair and turned to face me. The netted cathedral veil was long enough to drag the ground, showcasing every detail. The intricacies of the outfit didn’t hold a candle to the woman wearing it. She looked like an angel—no, she looked like a goddess.