My Possessive Criminal

Capítulo Trece

Chapter 13

Arsen stood on the platform beside Xanthe, taking note of the distance between them as they waited for his bodyguard.

He had been counting the number of times she had said the word 'sorry' to him. Not because he felt anything towards her, but because he was bored. And it was fun watching her get annoyed.

He knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to get to him, to change him. He knew that she thought they had a special bond because of Xena, but she couldn't be more wrong.

Whether Arsen was in denial, or not, he knew he'd never feel anything for her. Ever. 

Even though she was constantly on his mind.

It was annoying. She was annoying. And he hated himself for enjoying it.

He thought back to the night of the party. 

The way Shanaya had spoken about Xena that night had made his blood boil, fingers curl, and he had had no intention of stopping Xanthe when she flew at her, but he knew he had to because in general, Shanaya was a good enough person.

He knew Shanaya was just jealous, or else she'd have been thoughtful and considerate.

But the look in Xanthe's eyes when Shanaya had said what she did about her sister, was something he could never forget.

He quickly glanced at Xanthe and saw her leaning against a pillar in the airport's parking lot, kicking something with her clumps.

He turned back to observing, clearing his head of her.

He knew he had a lot of enemies in Canada, most of which could be hidden anywhere, and could jump out at any moment.

He had drawn a thick line between himself and Xanthe. And he knew that he couldn't cross those boundaries because he'd be putting both Xanthe's life at risk, and his gang's, which was pretty much already a key negative that came with being in the mafia.

Arsen knew he wasn't allowed to feel. That's what his boss had told him. No emotions, no good feelings, no hard feelings, think of yourself, and yourself only. And that's what he did.

Or, well, used to. 

But he couldn't put Xanthe in grave danger. Or his gang. He couldn't have that. They were his responsibility, and he'd given his word. Which he now regretted immensely.

This took him back to the same night.

He clenched his fists as he remembered the way Alec had stared at Xanthe, how his eyes had shone with delight. 

Alec was lucky that Arsen had spared him with just a punch in the face and a kick to his nuts, or he wasn't sure what he'd have done that was even remotely legal.

Alec had a thing for taking what belonged to Arsen.

And then Xander.

Xander, although he hated to admit it, was a really close ally. Associate. Friend. 

Whatever.

He even hated to admit it. Because he knew he couldn't have friends, he didn't want any. He had a hard time trusting people, and he knew Xander was an exception.

They'd been friends for a long time. 

The first time they'd met was when Arsen was eight, so you can see how long. Which is why it was difficult to see his close friend go through a near-death experience.

Xander was, indeed, like a brother to him. Like a younger brother with their one year difference. Xander was the same age as Xanthe, eighteen.

Arsen knew his fake ID wasn't going unnoticed by Alec, and Alec had realized his true form without even hesitating. He'd come to get his revenge, Arsen knew that much.