Mirror Crown
I leaned back in my chair, swirling the wine slowly just to mimic what I'd seen rich folks do in movies. Tasha watched me like she was trying to study me—decode me. But I gave her nothing. Just a small, mysterious smile and steady eye contact. It was working.
"You're different tonight," she said, sipping her drink.
I chuckled. "Different good, or different scary?"
She tilted her head. "A little bit of both."
Good. That meant she was intrigued. Curious. And curiosity was better than suspicion.
Dinner rolled on. The food? Insane. I couldn't pronounce half of it, and I had to follow Tasha's lead to figure out what cutlery to use, but I kept my cool. Confidence covered every hole in my knowledge.
Midway through the meal, I got a discreet buzz on my phone. A message from Amelia.
Amelia:
> Officer's name is Daniel Royce. Suspended pending internal review. I'll have him reassigned to desk duty in less than 48 hours. No loose ends.
I stared at the screen for a beat, then locked the phone and slid it away.
Handled.
Tasha leaned in. "Business?"
"Something like that," I said. "Nothing that can't be handled in a text."
She smiled. "You've really grown up, Christian."
I almost choked.
Christian.
That name didn't feel like mine. Not yet. But it was mine now. Whether I liked it or not.
"Yeah," I said slowly, "Guess I just decided to stop being the version of me everyone expected… and become the one I was meant to be."
She looked at me a little too long after that. Like maybe she didn't quite recognize the man across from her anymore—but didn't hate it either.
By the end of the night, the city lights danced on her skin, and she was laughing at one of my jokes—something about flamingos and French chefs, I don't even know. It didn't matter. I was selling the illusion, and she was buying it.
And deep down, Xavier—the real me—was starting to enjoy it.
Because maybe… just maybe… this crown didn't have to feel borrowed forever.