The courtroom hushed, the air thick with tension, as Cathleen's lips curled into a knowing smirk. She pierced Anastasia with her gaze, unyielding and as sharp as a scalpel. "Miss Brown, I would like you to repeat your statement," she demanded, her voice cutting through the whispers that had begun to swirl like vultures around a carcass.Anastasia's voice trembled, her eyes darting about, seeking an escape that wasn't there. "I said I don't know. I don't remember."Cathleen spun on her heel to face the judge, the hem of her tailored gown flirting with the edge of aggression. "Your honor, Miss Brown doesn't remember what happened that night. How then did she remember she was raped?" Her query hung in the air, an accusation cloaked in concern. "How can we take a statement from someone who remembers nothing at all into consideration? If Miss Brown's memory is a blank slate for that night, your honor, I'm afraid there's no goddamn case here."Nods rippled across the room, silently assentin
Xavier stood, his posture a statue of disbelief, outside the sterile walls of the court hall. The verdict echoed in his ears, but it was the silence of his unborn child's voice that screamed within him. He was a tempest of fury; Cathleen had robbed him of his rightful place by her side during the pregnancy, and now she would pay."Sir, this is for you." The manila envelope appeared in front of him, stark against the gray day. "Madam's office, her firm... and her home address." The smugness in his assistant's voice grated on Xavier, yet it was music to his darkening mood.A smirk unfurled on Xavier's lips, sharp as a blade. "Oh, and sir, this is the new number she is using."Behind him, Old Mr. Knight's chuckle rumbled like distant thunder. Xavier caught the old man's knowing glance before spinning on his heel. "That old fox," he murmured with grudging respect. His voice dropped an octave. "Take me home. I have a wife to torture."Morning light dared to pierce through the curtains of Xa
Edward's fists clenched as he stood outside the heavy oak door, the veins in his hands throbbing like angry serpents under his skin. He rapped sharply on the wood, each knocks echoing through the silent corridor with the weight of desperation. The study was a sanctum of power, where destinies were altered with a single word from the old man seated within."Come in," came the gravelly voice from the other side."Father!" Edward exhaled, pushing the door open. His heart pounded against his ribs, each beating like a drum of war in the quiet study.The old man sat ensconced behind a massive desk, a fortress of mahogany and leather-bound books. His gaze, sharp as a blade, cut through Edward. He slowly and deliberately removed his glasses, letting them dangle from one hand, a silent command for Edward to speak."I have been trying to get Finn out of jail, but I can’t seem to get through the authorities," Edward said, his voice a tightrope of control."Why?" The syllable was a bullet, quick
Dora's knuckles rapped sharply against the polished oak door of Cathleen and Xavier's opulent suburban estate. The grandeur of the house towered over her, a physical manifestation of the lavish lifestyle she hoped to secure for her daughter, Avery. She pressed her nose against the beveled glass portal, straining to catch a glimpse of the immaculate interior that surely awaited inside. With a loud creak, the door swung open, revealing a foyer lined with marble floors and adorned with sparkling chandeliers."Excuse me, can I help you, ma'am?" The housekeeper's voice jolted Dora from her snooping. A veneer of warmth painted her lips as she turned to face the woman, her eyes glinting with false tenderness."I'm Cathleen's mother. I'm here to take care of her," she declared, her voice oozing with honeyed concern that failed to reach her calculating eyes. There was a hint of pride and authority in her tone. She stood tall and confident, with a sharp jawline and piercing gaze that seemed to
The ornate, wrought-iron doors of the opulent Knight residence groaned their welcome as Cathleen swung her sleek car into the grand driveway. Despite the luxurious surroundings, every line of her body exuded reluctance and a sense of being trapped. With a decisive jab of her finger, she killed the engine, a symbolic gesture that could not mask her true intentions: she wasn't staying, not if she could help it. The sprawling mansion loomed before her, its imposing presence a constant reminder of Xavier's control over her. To Cathleen, it was nothing more than an ornate cage, beautiful on the outside but suffocating within its gilded walls."Damn sham," Cathleen muttered under her breath, her voice a low hiss as she gathered herself for the charade. Her hand rested protectively over the subtle swell of her abdomen; the child within was hers alone, Xavier be damned.With calculated poise, she stepped out into the crisp air, her heels clicking on the stone like a metronome ticking toward h
Cathleen rose from the tangled sheets, a frown creasing her forehead. Her feet found the plush carpet as she made for the door."Where are you going?" Xavier's voice, deep and commanding, anchored her to a halt."To my room, I need to freshen up," she replied without turning, her tone clipped and resolute."This is your room; this is where you belong. I've moved all your things to this room." The declaration was possessive, brooking no argument.Cathleen spun around, the incredulity written stark across her features. "What?" She spat the word out like a curse. "What right do you have to move all my belongings to this room?"Xavier's eyes, cold and unyielding, locked onto hers. "The right a husband has over his pregnant wife," he countered, his voice firm and dismissive of any protest. "I don't want to argue with you, and if you're going to start with the Olivia drama, know this—I have never been to this room with her."He paused, his gaze never wavering. "Olivia knows my room to be th
Dora's fingers tightened around the spoon, its handle cold against her warm skin. She watched Xavier through narrowed eyes, her gaze sharp as a blade. The suspicion in her chest twisted like a snake, coiling tighter with each tender glance he cast toward Cathleen. Dora forced a smile, as brittle as glass. "Try this," she urged, her voice honeyed poison, sliding some eggplant onto Cathleen's plate with calculated grace.Cathleen rose from her seat, an elegant dismissal. "I'm sorry, I am not hungry." Her words sliced the tension, and she turned away, hips swaying as she moved to the kitchen counter to prepare fresh orange juice. The whir of the juicer created a defiant buzz in the silence that followed."Are you insinuating that I poisoned this food?" Dora's voice cracked like a whip, her chair scraping against the floor as she shifted, the sound grating on nerves already frayed."Would you blame me?" Cathleen's retort came sharp, her back straight as she faced her stepmother, the juice
The rich, savory scent of freshly cooked food wafted through the dimly lit room, filling Xavier's senses. He carefully placed the tray on the nightstand and took a moment to admire the delicate shadows dancing across the walls, cast by the flickering light of a single candle. The cozy bedroom seemed to embrace them in its warm embrace. As he gazed upon Cathleen, her face serene in sleep, he couldn't help but feel grateful for this quiet moment together. The soft rise and fall of her chest with each breath was like a lullaby, calming his restless mind."Cat," he called softly, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the stillness. Her body stirred, a small crease forming between her brows, and for a fleeting moment, Xavier's lips twitched into a semblance of a smile. She was always so composed, every word calculated, but now, in slumber, she seemed almost vulnerable.He leaned closer, the scent of her hair mingling with the food's steam. It should have been a moment of p