The phone was a cold weight in Xavier's hand as he dialed the familiar number. Caleb's voice, ever-efficient, crackled on the other end. "I got the latest iPad," he said with brisk certainty. "I'm en route to the house.""Good," Xavier clipped out, ending the call with a jab of his thumb. He slipped from the sanctuary of the room he shared with Cathleen, only to find Olivia languishing in the corridor, her presence like a shadow that chilled the air.Xavier’s eyes narrowed at the sight of her, the annoyance etching deep lines across his forehead. The thought of Cathleen, strong and unyielding in her own right, having to share a roof with Olivia was a silent torment he could not abide. It was a cruelty beyond measure, and it set a grim resolve into his bones.As if summoned by the tension in the air, Caleb appeared, striding through the open doorway, iPad in hand. Without a preamble, Xavier's command sliced through the quiet, sharp, and unforgiving. "Get everything that belongs to me a
The leather of the car seat groaned under Xavier as he shifted, his gaze lingering on the serene face of Cathleen. Her chest rose and fell in a silent rhythm, oblivious to the world's weight she so often carried. The vehicle's engine cut, the sudden quiet marking their arrival. He studied her—a warrior in repose—and felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.Xavier's hand moved to the door handle, a deliberate betrayal of routine. Caleb, mirror eyes wide in the rearview, watched as the door clicked open, self-sufficiency breaking the unspoken protocol between master and servant."Sir?" Caleb's voice held a question he dared not ask."Let her rest," Xavier replied, his voice low but spurred by the undercurrents of a brewing storm.Graceful despite his size, Xavier slipped from his seat, the night air crisp against his skin. With a protector's gentleness, he cradled Cathleen, lifting her with ease born from necessity rather than affection. Her head nestled against his shoulder,
The wheels of the jet kissed Xavier Knight's private tarmac with a soft whisper of privilege, the sound of money even cushioning the landing. Cathleen's eyes sliced across the cabin like a blade, cutting through the silence and locking onto Xavier. She had learned to cut with her eyes, every glance honed by years of courtroom battles."I can take care of myself; thank you," she said, her voice frosty. The words were not just a statement, but a challenge. The coldness in her gaze was at odds with the vulnerability that her wheelchair suggested—a contradiction that she wore like a suit of armor.Xavier met her coldness with a glacial calm of his own. The line of his lips remained a strict one, as unyielding as his realm. He did not speak, but his eyes, piercing and devoid of compassion, drifted down to the wheelchair. The silence stretched between them like a taut thread that was ready to snap.It was in this wordless exchange that he was conveying a clear message: As far as his domain
The Maybach's engine fell silent, a stark contrast to the pulsing heartbeat in Cathleen's chest. Before her, she sat frozen, her eyes locked onto the towering glass structure that sprawled out in front of them. The house was a vision of extravagance and wealth, its transparent facade gleaming under the sun like a crystal palace. Each pane reflected the light in a dazzling display, creating an illusion of grandeur and mystery. It stood as a symbol of luxury and hidden riches, a fortress of untold stories waiting to be uncovered."Quite a place," Cathleen muttered, her words laced with a lawyer's skepticism, her eyes tracing the lines where modernity met extravagance.Her husband shifted uncomfortably beside her, his silence a heavyweight in the luxurious cabin. He was a simple man, or so he had claimed, born of soil and toil. Yet here they were, staring at a glass castle that should have been beyond the reach of a man who grew up on the farms."Tell me again, how did you afford this?"
Xavier strode into the sleek vacation house, his mind a tangle of conflict and desire. The moment the door clicked shut behind him, an involuntary groan escaped his lips as a surge of unexpected arousal pulsed through him. He scowled, fists clenching at Cathleen's clothes, unable to fathom the hold Cathleen had over his body."Damn you, Cathleen," he muttered under his breath, every inch of him rebelling against the fact that she, of all people, could elicit such a carnal response from him.He paced like a caged animal, each step heavy with the weight of betrayal. His father's machinations, Cathleen's cunning—they were chains binding him to a life he never chose. Xavier knew the fire in Cathleen's eyes, her sharp tongue, and her calculating mind. She was not a victim. She was the architect of this twisted reality, where he found himself shackled to her by marriage."I can't even touch my own wife," he spat out to him, his voice laced with venom. "Because every time I want to, it feels
Every move Xavier made was precise and calculated, like a well-rehearsed dance. Despite his rugged appearance, he handled the delicate figure in the tub with gentle care, his muscles straining under the weight. As the drops of water dripped down her body, they seemed to sizzle on his skin, stirring up unwanted desires that he tried desperately to push away. He gently wrapped her in a plush towel, his large hands wrapping around her small frame as he did so. With careful steps, he carried her to the bed. His touch was gentle and tender, like that of a man who knew how to break and heal hearts."Rest," he murmured, more to himself than to the unconscious form now sprawled on the sheets. He needed to distance himself to block out the intimacy he had not sought but found himself trapped in. The stinging spray of the shower was a blessing. But it did little to cleanse the thoughts that clung to him like Cathleen's scent. Xavier Knight, the man who had commanded empires, was now grappling
The scent of Cathleen's aroused panties hit him again as the water ran down Xavier's body. He shook himself free of the feeling that was about to take over his entire being. The scent of Cathleen's arousal was a trigger—unexpected and powerful—a scent that should have been a side effect but instead was the trigger for a primal reaction in him. It was the height of madness, he thought, and he had no idea why. He couldn't make sense of the sudden rush—the visceral need spurred on by a mere whiff of her presence—but it had completely knocked him out. If Cathleen were ever to find this moment of weakness, her sharp tongue would lash out with words like knives, slicing through his excuses with the same precision she wielded in the courtroom. The water from the shower beat against his skin, hot and punishing, as if it could wash away the guilt that was now mixing with the soap and the sweat. He turned off the tap. The silence was heavy and oppressive. He grabbed a towel and rubbed the dro
Xavier's consciousness clawed its way back from the depths of sleep, his body's arousal a jarring contrast to the stillness of dawn. It was a primal urge, this morning’s hardness, yet it felt foreign alongside the warm curve of Cathleen's slumbering form. He lay there for a moment, the silence of their bedroom hanging heavy like a verdict.He slipped from the sheets, a shadow moving with silent urgency. The cool air of the room kissed his skin, whispering secrets only solitude could keep. In the bathroom, the sharp scent of antiseptic snapped him further into reality as he relieved himself, the sound of a steady drumbeat against porcelain—a reminder of life's mundanities even amidst inner turmoil.He faced his reflection, the lines of his face carved with years and cold dominance. With bristles rasping against his jaw during the ritualistic dance of toothbrush over teeth, he avoided his own gaze. He couldn't afford the introspection that came with looking too deep.The shower's hiss f