better than winning

17 | mummie

(a/n)

if you haven't read the updated chapters these are the small changes i made, most of them just adds to the character and are unimportant.

-Mark was always at the ocean in Monaco and appeared around the age of 10-15 of Nayla

-Nayla made a 20 bucks bet with Xander (20 bucks if someone tries to kill Ave or me)

- Xander and Celine interactions at the will reading

- a non cringy first interaction with Jameson (i hope)

- Nan giving Nayla the nickname Tulip

- Nayla calls Xander's long explaining "Xansplaining" (like mansplaining)

-

Nayla pov

[call]
xannniiee

Nay?

where are you?

my wing, did something happen?

open up the door, gay boy. I have scones!

The door flung immediately open. "Could've said that earlier.", he speaks in to his phone and hangs up the call. He takes the plate of scones out of my hand. His wing was chaotic, and messy, but not dirty. In the middle stood a comfortable sating pit, paper ,with calculations scribbled all over it, was laid out on the table in the middle.

We both plump down on to the couch. "You lost the bet." "Which bet?", he muffled out of his scone stuffed mouth "The someone-tries-to-kill-Ave-or-me-in-the-next-month-bet.", I remind him and I raise my hands. "Bullet hit the back of my hand and my palm." I tell him.

"Bullet? Someone shot at you? Where were you? Did you loose too much blood?" he asks all at once. "Not at me, at Avery, she was hit by a piece of bark. We were in the Blackwood, searching for the Blackwood-clue. And I thankfully didn't loose too much blood, just had to take some pills."

Xanders brows shoot up, "Who was the guy?" My jaw drops offended, "Are you saying a woman couldn't do it? Really Xander? Being sexist? In this economy?" Xander takes 20 bucks out of his pocket, "Well it is statistically more likely for a man to do it, because in 2019 72.5% of the crimes were committed by men." He hands me the 20 bucks over and I chuckle, "It's really not fair to start an argument with you if I can't accuse you of sexism."

"Okay, enough with the chit chat. Which phones do you have bugged? I want access to some recordings." I come to the point. "The real question is 'Which phones have I not bugged?'" he grins and stuffs another scone in his mouth. "Besides what makes you think I'll just give you access to it? It would be a huge violation of privacy and I'm a very trustworthy person and don't want to loose that honourable privilege."

We both burst out laughing, "Yeah right, you do anything for gossip." "Can't blame me, can you?" he teases. "Okay, but I do need tour help." I remind him. "Yeah, I'll see what I can do."

He bends forward to take another scone, but I take the plate away. "Are you going to help me?" I pick up a blueberry scone, "Or do you want everyone to know that you helped the old man orchestrate this little game here?"

He seems caught off guard, but, of course, hides it instantly, "Hm? What do you mean?" I insisted, "You know what I mean." He laughs, "Hey, don't point stuff at me again, you want me to admit things I didn't do. You lost way too much blood to be thinking clear." "You know that, because you were present when that shooting happened...?"

"Well technically-" he started to Xansplain, what I call his overly complicated explaining, but I stop him, "Xan, you know I can tell when people lie. And you're a terrible liar too." He rolls his eyes playfully offended, "I am not-" "Well you are for me, so...?"