Mirror Crown
The moment the final bell rang, the wave of students rushed out like water bursting from a dam—laughing, shouting, calling out to friends as they headed off to whatever came next.
Xavier didn't move.
He just sat there for a moment, still, lost in a fog of confusion. The day had drained him—every conversation, every fake smile, every forced reaction. He had walked through a full school day pretending to be someone he had never even met. And somehow, he'd survived it.
Barely.
He grabbed his bag—one of those designer types that cost more than he made in a month back in the real world—and slowly followed the stream of students toward the school gates.
His heart jumped when he saw the car waiting for him. Not because it was familiar, but because it meant another performance was expected.
"Sir, you have a meeting this evening," the driver informed him the second he opened the door.
Xavier blinked. "Meeting? With who?"
The driver didn't flinch. "Board members. Your father arranged it before your trip. It's at the estate. Everyone is expecting you."
Xavier nodded slowly, then climbed in, doing his best not to panic. Board members? Estate? Everyone is expecting me? He didn't even know how to act in front of teachers—what was he supposed to say to businessmen and billionaires who probably knew the real Christian like family?
The ride back was silent again, except this time, the pressure wasn't just in his head—it felt like it was tightening around his chest.
When they arrived at the estate, a staff member ushered him toward a grand hallway with tall doors at the end. Behind those doors was the meeting. The staff stepped aside with a bow.
"Good luck, young master."
Young master.
If only they knew.
He hesitated for a long moment in front of the doors, staring at his reflection in the polished wood. He looked the part. But inside, he was shaking.
Finally, he pushed the door open.
The room was filled with men and women in sharp suits, seated around a long glass table. At the head of the table was an empty seat—his seat.
They all turned to him with polite smiles, nodding.
"Christian, welcome back," one of them said. "We were just about to begin."
Xavier's throat went dry.
He nodded and walked slowly toward the seat, every step heavy with dread.
He didn't know their names. He didn't know the business. He didn't know the agenda.
He sat down.
Don't speak unless you have to.
Just listen. Learn.
But deep down, one thought kept screaming in his head:
I don't belong here.
And sooner or later, someone was going to find out.