"What are you talking about?" she asked, brows furrowed, her voice tinged with confusion—and something dangerously close to guilt.
His lips curled into a slow, sinister smirk, eyes darkening with something far more primal.
"You really think I don't see through you, Miranda?"
The words hit like a slap. Before she could respond, his hand shot out and wrapped around her throat—firm, unrelenting.
Her breath caught, eyes widening in shock. She clawed at his wrist, trying to break free, but Xavier didn't flinch.
"You came here thinking you could crawl back into my bed now that you know who I really am," he hissed, his voice low and lethal. "Isn't that right?"
Her lips parted in protest, but no sound came.
"You're not some tragic damsel," he growled. "You're just another leech, clinging to the nearest source of power the moment your world crumbled."
Tears pricked her eyes—more from humiliation than fear.
