Xanthine Claude Sreight Black POV
As my Nee-san pulled Mom away, I was left here to deal with the elders. They were quite fond of the idea of pairing me up with some so-called eligible men they had carefully selected. Absurd. It was far too early for this kind of conversation, and if Xander and Dad were here, these men would either be cowering in their seats or making a hasty retreat.
"Elders, please, not this conversation again. If my father catches wind of this, you know exactly what he'll do." I let my words hang in the air, laced with just enough sarcasm to remind them who they were dealing with.
One of the elders let out a nervous chuckle, waving a dismissive hand. "Well, Xanti, you're right. Too young for these topics."
They scurried away, their whispers fading into the background as I sighed. The smooth sound of jazz still filled the room, giving the ambiance a falsely serene feel. But I knew better. These old hyenas were still hungry for more—power, influence, control. They had already crossed my sister's name off their list, realizing she was untouchable. Now, they were targeting me, thinking I was gullible enough to entertain their schemes.
They couldn't be more wrong.
My grip tightened around the glass in my hand, the ice clinking softly against the sides. They may see me as the youngest, the least experienced, but that was their mistake. I had been raised in this world just like Alexa and Xander. I had seen the way my father maneuvered through these power plays, how my mother's quiet influence dictated decisions without her even needing to raise her voice. I wasn't blind. I wasn't weak.
Still, if I had to endure this suffocating event, I might as well indulge myself. I had always been a glutton, though I carried it well. No one truly questioned how I could gracefully navigate these events while secretly sneaking small bites of my favorite foods. With that in mind, I took a plate of knickknacks—small pastries, cheese, and a few chocolate truffles—along with a glass of strawberry mint mocktail. At least something enjoyable would come out of this night.
"Miss Xanthine." A voice interrupted my thoughts. One of the men they had probably been trying to push my way stood before me with a courteous smile, though his eyes held an ambition I could see a mile away. "Would you care for a dance?"
I set my glass down and met his gaze, unflinching. "I'm afraid I must decline. You see, I only dance with those who know the right steps."
A flicker of confusion crossed his face, but he quickly masked it with a polite nod. I didn't give him another glance as I turned away, letting him—and the elders—know that I wasn't a pawn to be moved at their whim.
I was a Black. And I would decide my own fate.
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Dianne - Owl Guardian
The moment I stepped outside onto the balcony, the crisp night air filled my lungs, finally offering some relief from the suffocating party. The low hum of jazz still echoed through the open ceiling of the hall, but out here, the world felt more distant, quieter.
I descended the steps into the garden, letting my heels press into the soft grass as I made my way toward the towering oak tree in the distance. The glow of lanterns flickered faintly against the bark, casting long shadows that danced in the night. The further I walked, the more the weight on my chest began to ease.
At sixteen, they expected me to be poised, obedient, a proper young lady ready to be molded into their vision of power. But I wasn't like them. My mind was always spinning, calculating, watching for the next move before anyone else could make it. Yet here, under the vast open sky, I could just be. No whispered schemes, no prying eyes—just me and the night.
That's when I noticed the oak tree, its sprawling branches reaching toward the sky. Nestled within its thick foliage, a pair of sharp golden eyes stared down at me. An owl.
It swooped down with an effortless grace, landing on the railing beside me, its feathers catching the moonlight. Instead of a silent, regal presence, it tilted its head dramatically, as if appraising me, before letting out an indignant hoot.
I raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me? Did you just judge me?"
The owl fluffed its feathers, clearly unimpressed. A diva, I realized. A fitting companion.
"You look like a Dianne," I mused, watching as the owl blinked at me, then clicked its beak as if in approval. "Dianne it is. The name suits you—divine, untamed, and full of attitude. Just like the goddess of the hunt."
Dianne ruffled her feathers, as if preening at the compliment. Typical.
For the first time that evening, I allowed myself a small smirk. At least someone in this wretched night had a personality worth acknowledging.
A thought sparked in my mind as I gazed at the owl, who had now made herself comfortable on the railing. "What do you think about coming home with me?" I asked softly, reaching out my hand. Dianne merely gave me a haughty look before hopping closer, as if weighing my offer.
Bringing an owl home wasn't exactly normal, but since when had I ever followed expectations? Besides, I knew the perfect place for her.
I turned, already picturing Alexa's reaction. My sister had turned part of our estate into a garden-like sanctuary, a place of calm amidst the chaos. If anyone would understand, it was her. Convincing her to let Dianne stay might be a challenge, but I had a feeling the owl's attitude would amuse her just enough to allow it.
"Let's see if my sister approves," I murmured, offering my arm. Dianne hesitated for a moment, then, with a dramatic flap of her wings, landed gracefully. I smirked. "Good choice."
With my unexpected new companion, I turned back toward the party, already planning how to make my case to Alexa.
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Xander Chase Sreight POV
Mingling wasn't exactly my thing, but when Dad insisted, I knew better than to argue. Tonight, the younger generation of our allies had gathered, and as much as I preferred the background, I had a role to play. So here I was, surrounded by ambitious minds, discussing something that actually piqued my interest—our latest project.
I adjusted my glasses as I explained the core of our work. "By integrating Alexa's strategic innovations with Xanthine's poisons and explosives, we're refining efficiency on both ends. The key is in precision. We don't just make things that destroy—we create tools that control outcomes."
The group listened intently, some intrigued, others cautious. One of them, a young heir from a smaller syndicate, leaned in. "You mean you're mixing technology with… toxins? Isn't that unpredictable?"
I smirked. "Not when you know exactly how every component works. My sister's formulas are designed with calculated precision, and when paired with my tech, they become even more adaptable."
Dad, standing beside me, observed the exchange with quiet approval. He knew that despite my preference to stay behind the scenes, my work spoke for itself. These people might not fully understand yet, but soon, they would.
As the conversation shifted, Dad placed a firm but subtle hand on my shoulder. "Innovation, strategy, and precision… You've truly embodied what it means to be a Black, Xander," he said, his tone as composed as ever, yet carrying an unmistakable weight. "You may prefer the shadows, but never doubt that I see your worth."
For a brief moment, warmth settled in my chest, but I simply nodded, acknowledging his words in my own way. Praise from Dad wasn't loud—it was intentional, and it meant everything.
If only those old men trying to push arranged alliances onto my sister knew where the real power of the Black family lay. It wasn't in desperate political matches—it was in the synergy of our bloodline, in the way we built something unstoppable together.
Just then, movement from the entrance caught my attention. Mom had returned, walking in with Alexa at her side. Her sharp gaze scanned the room before landing on Dad. Without hesitation, she made her way over and wrapped her arms around him, a silent yet intimate gesture of their bond.
Alexa, ever composed, gave me a nod as she approached. "Xander."
I returned the nod. "Alexa."
She exhaled, her gaze flickering across the room. "Where's Xanthine?"
I raised a brow, only now realizing our youngest sibling was nowhere to be seen. "Good question."
Before Alexa could respond, a familiar voice interrupted. "Right here."
Xanthine appeared, her usual doll-like demeanor in place, though a glimmer of mischief shone in her eyes. Perched on her shoulder was an owl—its feathers sleek and proud, its amber eyes sharp with intelligence. The creature shifted, puffing itself up like a diva ready for the spotlight.
She tugged at Alexa's coat, tilting her head slightly. "So, about Dianne's settlement…"
Alexa's gaze locked onto the owl, an unexplainable feeling stirring within her, the same eerie familiarity she had once felt with Vleid. Her eyes slightly narrowed as if recognizing something beyond the physical.
Helena, standing beside Kian, took a single glance at the owl before exhaling softly. Unlike Alexa, she already understood. "They're here," she murmured under her breath, the weight of those words settling between them. The guardians had begun to make their presence known.
Xander's expression darkened slightly. While Helena and Alexa seemed to recognize something about this owl, he knew nothing about these so-called guardians. If something unknown was making its way into their lives, it meant potential risks—ones he wasn't willing to take lightly. He glanced toward his father, but Kian's expression remained unreadable, as if waiting for something more.
"I don't like unknown variables," Xander finally said, adjusting his glasses. "Until we know exactly what this means, I want security tightened at the estate and all company buildings. No exceptions."
Alexa turned to him, raising a brow. "You think they're a threat?"
"I think they're an anomaly," Xander corrected. "And I don't gamble on anomalies." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, the sharp calculation of someone who had seen too much to take things at face value.
Xanthine pouted dramatically. "Dianne isn't a threat. She's just a little… extravagant."
The owl hooted in agreement, as if insulted by the insinuation. But Xander wasn't convinced. Whether friend or foe, he wouldn't allow anything to jeopardize their security—not without knowing exactly what they were dealing with.
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Announcement and Appointment
As the evening wound down, the air in the grand hall shifted from calculated discussions to final toasts. The official appointment of Brent Vilagio as right-hand man for the coming year was sealed with raised glasses and approving nods from the elders. Brent himself remained composed, though a flicker of determination shone in his eyes.
Kian stood at the center, his presence commanding yet calm as he concluded the night's affairs with a final word of acknowledgment. "To unity and strength. May this year bring growth to our family and the legacy we uphold."
The room echoed with agreement before guests gradually dispersed, leaving only the core members of the Black family and their closest allies. What should have been a joyous night, filled with celebration, was instead laced with tension. Beneath the surface, their minds worked tirelessly, brainstorming who the perpetrator of the night's disturbance could be.
Kian, as the head and capo of the underworld, had gained unwanted attention when he rose to power. Many had opposed him, especially when he made the bold move of entering the shipping line business. The elders had been the loudest in their disapproval, claiming that such a venture was too great a gamble, that it would expose them to the eyes of the law. Yet Kian had remained resolute, pushing forward despite their doubts.
In the background, the head of security moved discreetly, ushered by a silent signal from Kian. Away from the main gathering, a box had been found earlier that evening—its contents disturbing. A dead rat, its body twisted unnaturally, a warning that spoke in veiled threats.
Kian did not react outwardly, nor did he allow the rest of the room to sense his displeasure. Instead, he leaned in slightly and gave his command in a low tone, one only the security lead could hear. "Find out who sent it. Review every angle of tonight's surveillance. I want answers before dawn."
The man nodded sharply, slipping away without another word.
Meanwhile, Xander, still wary of the evening's earlier revelations, took the opportunity to reinforce his previous order. "Double the security checks at every entry point. No one comes or goes without clearance. I don't care if they're on the guest list."
Alexa, who had remained quiet through the exchange, finally spoke. "This isn't just about us anymore, is it?"
Helena's gaze flickered toward the shadows of the room, where Xanthine stood, the owl Dianne still perched on her shoulder. The bird let out a soft but knowing hoot, its eyes gleaming under the low chandelier lights.
"No," Helena murmured. "It's not."
As the Black family prepared to retreat for the night, the weight of unseen forces settled over them—an unspoken understanding that the night's events were only the beginning.
Silently, Kian turned to one of his most trusted enforcers. "The Hound will investigate every guest from tonight. I want a full report—backgrounds, affiliations, anything suspicious."
The enforcer gave a curt nod and vanished into the night, ready to begin the hunt. The celebration was over, but the real game had just begun.