After being betrayed by her stepsister, Cathleen left the country and went abroad. However, on the day she returned to NYC, she was asked to marry the same man she caught sleeping with her stepsister 3 years ago. Cathleen agreed, as she was marrying the man to save her grandmother and wanted revenge, as well as to cut ties with her family. To her surprise, the man she married wasn't the man who betrayed her 3 years ago; it was a different man she had never seen. What happened to Finn? How will she get her revenge? Her stepmother and stepsister found out that Finn wasn't the owner of Knight Group, so they devised a plan to make Cathleen marry the lapdog while they found out who owned Knight Group. But with Finn on the run, who then did Cathleen marry? Xavier was dimmed to be a cousin from the farm; little did the mother-and-daughter pair know that he was the big shot they had been looking for.
View More"Xavier," she managed her voice a husky whisper that belied the steel in her gaze. "This isn't a game.""Isn't it, though?" He stepped closer, each movement calculated to rattle her composure. "You keep running. I keep chasing. It seems like a game to me, Cat. We both know how much you love to play."Her throat tightened, and words lodged like shrapnel. This man, this infuriatingly irresistible force, knew just how to wield control and manipulate the tension between them until it sang like a plucked string."Stop this," she said, her command brittle. But even as she uttered the words, Cathleen knew they were fuel on the fire of his desire—an invitation scrawled across the distance that separated them."Make me," he dared, twisting those sinful lips with a half-smirk.The room contracted, the air heavy, charged with the electricity of their silent standoff. Here stood Cathleen, a woman who bent courtrooms to her will, now teetering on the precipice, one push from tumbling into the abys
Cathleen's fingers hovered over the collection of leather-bound tomes that lined her study, the silence broken by a buzzing phone against the rich mahogany desk. She snatched it up, her eyes narrowing at the caller ID—her father-in-law's name lit up on the screen. A rush of thoughts flooded her mind: had Xavier told his father that she wasn’t at their matrimonial house? But as she answered the call, his gruff and demanding voice surprised her with a request for a family lunch the following day. Cathleen ended the call with a sharp nod and a heavy sigh, dreading the inevitable awkwardness of the gathering."Damn you, Xavier," she muttered, the very thought of him igniting a wildfire within her. The scent of his skin, the strength of his hands—they haunted her, a ghostly caress that left her reeling. Yet the image of him entwined with another, especially Olivia seeped poison into the fantasy. It was the fear of becoming just another conquest in his gallery of women that kept Cathleen at
Xavier paced the length of his dim-lit study, each step a silent drumbeat echoing the tumult in his mind. Two full months had passed since that night with Cathleen—his wife, his supposed perfect sub—and now there was nothing but silence. Ridiculous. His fingers ached for his phone again, to try her number just once more, but he knew it was futile. She wasn't picking up; she was gone."Fuck!" The word erupted from him as he spun on his heel, whiskey sloshing against the sides of its glass prison. He slammed the drink down onto the rich mahogany on the table and fixed his gaze on the framed photo. Their wedding day. A mockery.He sneered at the image, at the smiling faces that seemed to mock him from across the chasm of these past weeks. "Why the fuck did I fall for her after just one night of fucking? One fucking night, and I was a fucking goner!" Xavier's voice was a growl, self-loathing threading through the question like poison.His hand closed around the glass again, the liquid fir
Xavier's mood was unusually upbeat as he strolled into the grand foyer of his family's estate. He greeted everyone with a genuine smile, a marked difference from his usual indifferent demeanor as he walked past the imposing marble columns and ancestral paintings. The staff looked at each other in confusion; their usually stoic young master was acting out of character today, and his cheerful voice reverberated off the high ceilings."Morning, Mrs. Potts," Xavier called to the housekeeper, his voice smooth but with an edge that hinted he wasn't entirely comfortable with this new approachable demeanor. Her response, a cautious smile paired with a twitch of surprise, was noted but not acknowledged as he ascended the staircase toward his father's study.Xavier confidently approached the massive oak door and rapped on it with a commanding force, a clear sign of his power and lineage. Pushing the door open without waiting for permission, Xavier stepped into the quiet sanctuary of old Mr. Kni
Caleb strode into the flower shop, urgency etched on his face as he scanned the vibrant throng of blossoms that crowded the small space. The scent of fresh-cut stems mingled with the earthy hint of damp soil—a stark contrast to the emotional storm clouding his thoughts. He exhaled, trying to steady his racing heart."Please, I need your help," he said, locking eyes with the florist, who was trimming the thorns off roses with a practiced hand, her movements precise and almost violent in their efficiency.The florist looked up, her smile a sharp slash across her otherwise plain features. She set her shears down with a decisive click against the counter. "Of course. How can I help?" she asked, her tone light but her eyes probing, sensing the undercurrents of turmoil that Caleb carried with him like a second skin.Caleb returned the smile, though it was a strained affair, tugging at the corners of his mouth with all the warmth of winter's chill. He could feel the weight of Xavier's trust
Xavier awoke abruptly, sensing the chill of an empty space next to him. The bed lay cool and untouched, devoid of any lingering warmth. Shifting his position, a derisive sound escaped his mouth, assuming Cathleen must be in the bathroom freshening up. Memories of their passionate night danced at the fringes of his thoughts—her tired sighs echoing in the quiet room, her form yielding to the unyielding tides of pleasure he had extracted from her core. Against his will, a faint smile flirted with his expression."Needy, weren't you?" he murmured to the empty room, picturing her chained form on the spanking bench. Her beauty in bondage was a vivid image that both infuriated and captivated him. The soft light filtering through the curtains highlighted the absence he felt—an absence that gnawed at his insides, stirring a dangerous cocktail of desire and unease.Minutes dragged into a half hour, yet there was still no sound from Cathleen. With a furrow in his brow, Xavier rose, the silk shee
Cathleen's stomach gives a funny twist as Xavier drags her to the center of the room. “I don’t normally like treating my subs like slaves, but you, my little wife, have been a bad girl. When I talk to you, you talk back. And Daddy doesn’t really like that.” Cathleen gritted her teeth and sucked it all in.“You fucking look good, my little Cat,” Xavier says as he brushes Cathleen’s soft cheeks, Cathleen is still in pain; her first time was with her beastly husband, who ate her and left no crumbs. He made sure to leave a mark, and did he fucking leave a mark? He sure did, but Cathleen refused to let Xavier take all the credit. She remained like the cat she was on the floor, refusing to show Xavier that it was her first time.Cathleen opened her mouth to speak, but Xavier placed a gag in her mouth. “I like you more when you are in this position. No insults because there is a gag.”Xavier’s hand started pressing Cathleen’s nipples; he was gentle, very gentle, but pulled. Then he pulled hi
After disappearing into the restroom, Xavier didn’t understand anything. He wanted more of Cathleen; strangely enough, he had never been one to want someone so bad. He ran a hand over his hair, and he stood in the restroom, surprised at how good Cathleen felt. Having sex with her became an addiction. He entered a shower, and once he was done, he knew he needed to have her again. needed to punish her, but there was this lingering thought he had, but he brushed it off as he thought it couldn't be possible.Meanwhile, Cathleen was still lying on the bed as she turned to the side and saw bloodstains. She gasped and quickly took the bedsheets and threw them in one corner. She stood, looking at them. “I can’t let Xavier see this; he doesn’t have to know.” She says that as she stood there looking at the bedsheets, she noticed another door, quickly opened it, and saw a washing machine. Cathleen drew the bedsheets inside and searched for a plug to wash the bedsheets, but she couldn’t find anyt
The liquid gold of champagne kissed Olivia's lips with deceptive sweetness, the bubbles popping like tiny explosions of anticipation. Her eyes flickered past the flute's rim, scanning for Cathleen's familiar silhouette. She wasn't back yet. Olivia slid off the high chair at the bar with a practiced and effortless grace, her heels clicking a steady rhythm on the marble floor as she made her way to the restroom."Evening," Olivia murmured, her head bowing just enough to feign respect without submission as she passed a pair of exiting women. The smirk that followed clung to her face like a shadow of darker thoughts.Inside, the restroom carried echoes of hushed voices and running water, now fading away. Olivia's gaze swept across the vacant space, settling on the one stall that dared to be occupied. A witch's cackle bubbled up from her throat, unbidden but not unwelcome."You stole what was meant to be mine." She hissed at her reflection, watching the crimson curve of fresh lipstick glid
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