His Personal Assistant

All Alone

I'm so so sorry for being a horrible person and not updating.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Xavier's POV (The same night)

I nod at my driver, Sam, as he opens the car door for me. I step out and take the elevator up to my penthouse, I type in my pin on the keypad and walk into silence. I sigh and throw my coat aimlessly onto the couch before heading to my bar station; I pour myself some whiskey. Sighing, I sit on my couch, I take a sip before guzzling down the whole glass. God, I feel so alone, so fucking alone. No one in this god forsaken world is capable of loving me and I'm not capable of loving another woman in my life ever again.

That bitch has made me incapable of love, the one fucking thing I couldn't stop. She had to go and leave me. She ran away with who? My. Fucking. Best. Friend. He had to go and do this to me. I yell in frustration, throwing the glass across the room; the betrayal and hurt still burning through my chest. The pain that I felt when I found out that she had ran away with my best friend was unbearable; she'd only left one. Single. Note. Saying sorry. And nothing else. Just a fucking sorry. A sorry wasn't going to fix that hole inside my heart, now was it? What's even worse is that I received a fucking invitation to their fucking wedding just three months later.

Turns out that she was also pregnant with his child. I do not love her anymore no, I hate her mere existence but the betrayal still burns deep inside of me. She had made me believe that she loved me but I know now that she didn't and never will. No one will ever be able to love the man that I have become. A man that is so cold and merciless that everyone fears. A man that is incapable of love, they see me as a womaniser and I prefer it that way. I had replaced my heart with ice. But. But that ice is slowly melting. All because of one woman. A woman so freaking beautiful and gorgeous. And to think of the way those blood thirsty bastards we looking at my girl. She's mine, all mine. I know I'm possessive and I get jealous easily; and I know I'm a dick to her but I don't want to go through that pain again.

There's just something about her, something that I find so intriguing, it's pulling me in. I feel like she has some sort of secret that she doesn't want anyone to know. The way she ever so slightly cowered away in the meeting and the way she flinched when my hand got too close to her. I want to know more about her but every time I get close to saying something nice, I end up reminding myself of the pain that I went through. But for some reason I feel like she has been through so much more than I have. I sigh and grab the whole bottle of whiskey and take a swig, I finish the whole bottle and fall onto the couch.

I stare up at the ceiling tiredly and blink slowly, my eyes close on their own accord and I am thrown into a night full of horrible memories. My last thought being, I'm all alone.