"I'm leaving," Xander informed his bride-to-be. Not because he felt like talking. He informed her just for the sake of formalities.
Piper looked up from her phone, clearly confused. "But we just got here."
He didn't answer. His gaze had already drifted to the overly decorated cake table, covered in floral fondant and pastel swirls. It looked like something that belonged at a child's birthday party, not a wedding.
"I told you this was urgent," she said, rising from her seat, trying to match his tone with false calm. "You agreed."
"I thought it was business."
"It is," Piper replied quickly, placing a hand on his arm, though it did nothing to stop his movement. "Our wedding is a merger, Xander. Every detail matters."
His silence answered her.
Piper laughed lightly, trying to salvage the moment. "Come on, you haven't even tasted the cake."
"I've seen it." His voice was low, final. He eyed her hand on his arm, and she immediately took it off.
The event coordinator approached with a tray and a smile, oblivious to the tension. "Sir, would you like to try the vanilla bean—"
"No." He didn't even look at her. He fixed his heated glare on Piper. It was a miracle he didn't strangle her when he got here, and realized it was a cake store.
Piper flushed, her eyes darting to the staff. "He's just tired. He's had a long day."
Xander had already turned away.
"You can't just walk off," she called, quieter now. "I cleared my schedule for this. This cake designer isn't someone we can just cancel a reservation with. I waited two months for this,"
Xander didn't pause. He adjusted the gloves in his hands, and looked around. He hated the stares.
Piper fumed and the next minute, she lost control and screamed. "If you leave me here all alone, I'll make sure my father hears about it."
That stopped him. First, he was embarrassed on her behalf and secondly, he was embarrassed he would be seen with her. Also, involving her father was solid enough to make him pause.
His steps halted mid-stride, shoulders rigid, with his jaw tight. Piper smirked behind his back. Quiet and victorious.
She knew exactly what name to say, and exactly what it would cost him. Slowly, Xander turned, the chill in his eyes was sharp enough to slice.
"This wasn't part of the agreement," he said, his voice like steel behind velvet.
"No," she replied sweetly, stepping closer, "but then again, neither was your attitude. I'm doing my part. Showing up. Smiling. Playing the perfect bride. Is it so hard for you to pretend you're happy for five minutes?"
His silence was louder than any response. He said nothing. Not when she reached for the cake samples. Not when she offered him the smallest silver fork.
"You could at least taste it," she muttered under her breath. "Or do you hate the idea of marrying me that much?"
Xander's gaze flicked to her. Brief and piercing. His dark bottomless eyes held so much nonchalance in them.
Then, he took the fork, barely tasted the frosting, and set it down like it was poison.
"I've had worse," he said.
Piper laughed, even though there was nothing funny. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
Xander's eyes met hers again. His eyes were flat and unreadable. And for the first time that afternoon, Piper's smile faltered.
"I'm sorry," she immediately murmured an apology.
Piper quickly recovered, smoothing her skirt with an awkward flick of her wrist. "No one will write a word about you," she added, following his gaze toward the onlookers pretending not to stare. "You're not even on the guest list. I made sure of it."
His jaw flexed, but he said nothing.
"They think I'm here with a planner," she whispered, inching closer. "So you can stop looking like you're one second from killing everyone in the room."
She kept speaking because she was nervous, and she didn't want to be seen all across the media looking sad, while tasting her wedding cake.
He didn't respond. He didn't nod. He didn't even blink. He looked disgusted if anything.
He returned to his seat like a man stepping onto a scaffold. Not because he wanted to stay—but because he had to. Because walking out meant they won.
The Delvins always won.
And that truth sat like a stone in his chest.
Piper sat across from him, still holding the tiny plate with the fork he barely used. She took a careful bite herself, forcing a hum of approval. "It's not bad," she offered, eyes flicking to him with hope.
Xander didn't even glance at her. He just sat properly on the seat that looked too small for his well built body.
The cake samples kept arriving. Chocolate ganache. Almond buttercream. Lemon raspberry. He didn't touch another one. He sat like a marble statue. Perfect posture, blank expression, and haunted eyes.
He was here. But he wasn't present. Piper felt it.
She kept talking anyway, her voice growing more brittle with each sentence. "I thought maybe the cake tasting would help. I mean, it's the easiest part. No contracts. No blood. Just frosting."
Still, he said nothing.
She laughed again, softer now. "I don't know why I'm trying with you."
"Neither do I," he murmured, his voice quiet and ice-cold.
Piper looked like she'd been slapped. But instead of storming out as she would have typically done, she straightened her shoulders and forced another smile. Her teeth gleamed too bright, and her eyes too wide.
At this point, one could tell she was forcing the smile, and it made her look ridiculously horrible.
"I'll just… pick the cake," she said finally. "Don't worry. It won't kill you."
Xander leaned back in his seat, one ankle resting on his knee, as he eyed her. "It might," he said under his breath.
Piper ignored it. Or pretended to.
If there was one thing she was sure of, it was that as long as her father's shadow hovered behind them, Xander would stay.
Even if he hated every second of it. Even if he hated her, he would stay. No one crosses her family.