[Mid-April 2000 – 11:30 AM, Café Algiers, Harvard Square]
The late afternoon sun spilled through the tall windows of Café Algiers, painting soft gold across the wood tables and shelves lined with used textbooks and mismatched mugs. The café was busy with the usual pre-exam chaos—students hunched over laptops finishing final papers, others nursing coffees while debating post-grad plans, and a few who'd already mentally checked out, just killing time, ready to accept their fate.
The smell of strong coffee and cardamom hung in the air, mixing with the low hum of conversation and the hiss of the espresso machine. Xavier sat tucked into the corner, sleeves rolled up, dark curls falling into his eyes as he typed on his Sony VAIO between sips of coffee. He looked annoyingly focused, seemingly exhausted at whatever was on the screen.
"What's got you thinking so hard?" The voice was familiar—sweet but crisp, with an edge that could cut glass when she wanted it to. He didn't need to look up to know who it was, but he did anyway.
Locs of ginger hair that caught the afternoon light filtering through the window were the first thing to enter his eyes. Her hair drizzled down in loose waves past her shoulders, framing her diamond-shaped face. Those emerald-green eyes, the ones that had once taken his breath away, now regarded him with a mixture of cautious curiosity.
At 5'9", she was a sight for sore eyes, evidenced by the glances of men doing their best not to make it obvious they were gawking. She wore dark jeans that fit like they'd been tailored specifically for her, further accentuating her long legs. A cream silk blouse with the top two buttons undone in a way that managed to be both professional and deliberately distracting.
Her only jewellery was a delicate gold necklace shaped like a phoenix and an intricate silver watch around her left wrist. Xavier didn't doubt that its price alone could cover the cost of most people's rents for a few months. A black leather jacket draped over one arm completed the ensemble.
At twenty-three, Hailey looked every inch the trust-fund baby about to enter the working world on her family's dime—polished, confident, and entirely too comfortable in her own skin. "Not much," Xavier replied, keeping his tone neutral as he closed the book. "What brings you here, Hailey?"
"What, can I not grab coffee on campus?" She slid into the seat across from him without waiting for an invitation, crossing her long legs in a way that seemed deliberate. "Do you own this café now, too? Did you buy the chairs or something?"
Xavier felt the familiar migraine forming, reminded of when she would lecture him in the past. "You reckon I should, you know, buy the place? Though I doubt old Simon would sell"
Hailey let out a short, amused hum through her nose—half a laugh, half a scoff. "You buying a café? Please. You'd last two weeks before firing someone for breathing too loudly near the pastry case."
He didn't look up as he typed a few more words on his laptop. "Don't tempt me. You know what they say, I've got too much money than I know what to do with."
"Oh my God," Hailey exclaimed, naturally taking a seat across from him as if they had agreed to meet up.
She deliberately folded her long legs, seemingly trying to get a reaction. But she was left disappointed as Xavier looked back down at his laptop, proceeding to ignore her. She clicked her tongue lightly, annoyed that he didn't so much as twitch. It was honestly infuriating how he could shut people out so cleanly when he wanted.
Xavier was naturally charismatic, which was hard to believe given that he was younger than his classmates. Most students who were crazy smart, like he was, had low emotional intelligence, but not Xav. He had this ability to make you feel like you're the centre of the world when conversing.
However, that same person who could make you feel so special would also take that feeling away at the drop of a hat. Maybe because he was so young, he never truly went through a chaotic college phase, which wasn't a problem in itself. However, he had little patience for people doing stupid things and would often remove himself from the situation.
She had been the only exception, managing to drag him to functions, parties, and get him to take care of her when she was drunk. Now seeing him treat her coolly, a mixture of emotions bubbled up within her. "So what's this?" she asked, nodding toward his laptop. "Writing a manifesto? Drafting your villain origin story?"
"No, my Villan origin story was when we broke up," He calmly responded, his auburn eyes locking onto her green ones. "Or when my father died... What do you want, Hailey?"
"I'i meant to call you, i just..."
"It's fine, Zoe told me you called her. You're not my girlfried anymore, so you had no obligations." He interrupted her, his expression growing more unredable. "How's the Voss family empire holding up, still standing somehow?"
Hailey stiffened at the mention of her family name—the way he said it felt like someone had dragged a fingernail across glass. "…still standing somehow?" she repeated, forcing a humourless smile. "Wow. Straight for the jugular, huh."
Xavier shrugged, leaning back in his chair, completely unbothered. "Heard you're joining your family's marketing firm after graduation?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as if to figure out a puzzle.
"Well, yes, I'll be joining Rose Marketing connected to Goliath Management after graduation." She admitted feeling slightly proud to be starting her career at a prestigious company. "Though not as impressive as someone here who decided to buy a franchise, it's something."
She didn't receive a response right away, as Xavier merely hummed, taking in the information without much reaction. "What, no comment? No reaction? I know you have an opinion, so let me have it." She said, after realising he was content to let the conversation simmer there.
"Let's not do this, Hails,"
"No, let's, I can practically read the disappointment on your face." She retorted, folding her arms, unwilling to let it go.
"Sigh, you and I both know you're not favoured in the Voss family. Why else would they send you to their less important Rose Marketing when all your siblings are working either in the fund or the retail group?" he matter-of-factly replied, unbothered by her glare that continued to intensify. "Even if they did care, they only partially own Rose, with Sparrow the majority shareholder owning forty per cent of the company. You know that woman couldn't care less, even if your name was Gates or Trump"
"Ugh, do you always have to be so direct? That's the reason we broke up, you always find faults," she retorted in indignation as she stood up, clearly taking his warning seriously. "Couldn't you have just congratulated me and wished me well like every other classmate?"
"Do you want me to treat you like every other classmate?" The question was pointed, instantly freezing the air between them, and if one looked closely, neither of them wanted the answer to that question. "Plus, we broke up because of your need to please those people you call family when they have given you every reason not to."
"Piece of advice for old times' sake, when someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time." He continued picking up his cup of coffee, only to frown as it had already gone cold
"You haven't changed a bit, still as arrogant as ever. I don't know why I bothered," she huffed, getting up from her chair and leaving without as much as a bye. Xavier could only watch as she strode out, sighing once again, wondering if he had gone too far.
~~~
{Flash Back}
[09:00 12th January/2000, James Vinyard. Geneva City of New York]
The sky over Geneva City was a washed-out grey, and the lights that should have heralded the new year looked a shade duller. Even in this gloom, the Vinyard's sprawling estate looked like something pulled out of an old, proud painting. Rows of manicured hedges framed the long, winding path that led up toward the family grounds. Beyond them stretched the green slopes, rolling gently until they met the icy shimmer of Finger Lake in the distance.
On a small hill on the grounds that overlooked the valley below, giving a magnificent view of the Finger Lakes in the distance, stood an old Yoshino cherry tree. Its branches were bare now, curled and sleeping, but even stripped of blossoms, it stood regal, watching over the family cemetery below like a silent sentinel.
A long line of black cars snaked along the gravel path leading up to the small cordoned-off area. Among them sat a black BMW M3, with its engine still running unmistakably out of place among the sleeping vehicles. Its polished frame reflected the grey sky overhead.
Inside, Hailey sat stiffly in the back seat, dressed in a black wool coat and a simple dress beneath it. The clothes somehow made her look smaller, younger—nothing like the confident woman she had grown into. Her driver, a man in his fifties, wearing a neutral expression used to dealing with the Voss-family demands, kept his eyes on the procession through the windshield.
Hailey didn't move, not when the priest began speaking, nor when the wind carried the sound of quiet weeping. Not even when the earth hit the coffin lid with its soft, final thud, she watched from behind the tinted glass, fingers trembling slightly in her lap. She wanted to go out to offer her condolences, but every time she reached for the door handle, her chest tightened.
"You are not to interact with that James brat. Their family is spiralling—keep your distance." Her father's warning replayed in her mind.
When the small crowd shifted and the ceremony neared its end, Hailey finally drew in a steady breath. "I'm going out," she whispered, more to herself than to anyone.
Her driver's eyes flicked up to the rear-view mirror. "Miss Hailey," he warned gently, "your father was quite clear. You are not to speak to—"
She opened the door before he could finish, cold January air rushing in and swallowing the rest of his sentence. Her heels crunched over the frost-bitten grass as she stepped out, heart pounding. She kept a small distance from the group, not wanting to intrude or disrespect their moment, when a soft sound tugged at her attention.
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Please leave a comment, drop some power stones, and a review. It's what motivates me to write chapters and helps me tremendously as the story reaches more readers.
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To Be Continued...
