“I can give you 1.5 million. And you can try to raise the rest. I am not marrying that cretin.” Her voice dropped to a low, steady tone as she spoke. Her eyes narrowed with determination, and her mouth formed a thin line. Cathleen behaved more like William, but unlike Avery, she wasn’t a spoiled brat. Her unnerving composure sent shivers down William's spine as he braced himself for her to explode in anger. Instead, she spoke with cold precision, delivering her words like sharpened daggers that cut through the tension in the room.
“Marrying Finn is our only option for Grandma’s survival. Baby girl, please. Grandma is counting on you.” Grandma's name triggered a range of emotions within her. She couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and nostalgia, but at the same time, there was a tinge of guilt and regret. Her face betrayed these conflicting emotions as she let out a heavy sigh.
“6 months. I will marry that jerk for only 6 months, and we will be done. Do not expect me to have children with that fool. Do not expect me to appear on public occasions with him because I feel nothing for him and I am not an escort. Call him and tell him my condition. If he agrees, then we can go ahead.” Cathleen's gaze turns cold as she looks at her father, finally realizing that she has no place in this family. Their constant lack of love and never-ending attempts to humiliate her boil over inside her, pushing her to cut all ties with them once and for all. She sees them for who they truly are: manipulative and toxic, and she knows it's time to break free. Cathleen's lips curl upwards, revealing a flash of white teeth, but her eyes remain cold and distant. “Oh, and father, there is another condition.” William slowly lifts his head, locking eyes with his daughter. His face remains hardened and stoic, and his emotions are guarded behind a wall of steel. But then, unexpectedly, Cathleen smiles at him, her bright expression penetrating through his defenses like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.
“What condition?” William's voice trembled as he finally mustered the courage to ask, but his words were cut off by the sharp glint in his daughter's eyes. She pinned him with a sly grin, causing his heart to race and his palms to sweat. He could feel her power over him, like a predator toying with its prey.
“You and your wife have always used every opportunity you have to embarrass me. You lie to the public that I am an adopted child. You never acknowledge that I am your first child or that you were previously married to my mother before marrying Dora.” Cathleen has never called her father's wife by her name; she has always called her mom, but today the girl just called her by her first name.
“I have nothing against Dora, and I respect her, but she has never considered me a member of this family, and you, Father, have allowed all of this to happen under your roof. I have been bullied in this house and turned into a slave all these years, and you never did or said anything. So since I am an embarrassment and you have no intention of telling anyone I am your daughter, I want to cut all ties with you and your precious family.”
“No, you are doing this for Grandma, remember, and since when did you start calling me by my first name?” Dora's voice drips with desperation as she plots to use Cathleen as a pawn in her game to uncover the elusive owner of Knight Group International. She schemes and manipulates, hoping that by marrying Finn, Cathleen will lead her straight to the source. But as Dora's conniving words spill out, Cathleen's gaze hardens into a piercing stare, like a wolf ready to pounce on its prey. No longer willing to be a victim of Dora's cruel games, she stands tall and fierce, unafraid to speak her truth. The once meek and timid girl has transformed into a force to be reckoned with, shocking Dora, who never expected this fierce defiance from someone she had always seen as weak.
“I wasn’t talking to you, Dora.” Cathleen's voice dropped to a low, commanding pitch that sent shivers down Dora's spine, making her want to leap out of her seat. Gone was the timid girl, now replaced by a force to be reckoned with.
“How dare you call me Dora? I am your mother!" Dora's face contorted with rage as she yelled, her eyes bulging and red, like a wild animal about to attack. Meanwhile, Cathleen's smile was sly and knowing, her eyes glinting with determination and defiance.
“Listen, your name is Dora; you have one child, not two. Never think you can walk all over me; I am not a pushover." Cathleen says this as she now turns to face her father. "Grandma is your mother, not mine, Father. Do you think I don’t know that you are lying about her health? Well, if anything, I know for a fact that this union is not about grandma’s medical bills; it’s about the both of you feeding your egos and you." She said, pointing a finger at Dora, “Stop daydreaming; never will I call a dog like you, Mother! Get that!” Her words hung in the air like a heavy stone, each one a sharp and deliberate attack. William's blood boiled as he fought the urge to defend his wife's honor, knowing it would only push Cathleen further away. He clenched his jaw in frustration, feeling powerless as she continued to raise her voice, her disdain and disregard for his wife cutting deep. But he stayed silent, knowing that if he spoke out of turn, she might walk away from the marriage, leaving him with no status in the city.
“Why are you giving us conditions? We raised you. You owe us.” Dora ranted, her voice rising to a fever pitch as she spewed venom at Cathleen. This was her tried-and-true tactic, one that never failed to get her way in the past. And Cathleen, always feeling indebted to them, would do whatever it took to keep them happy. But this time, something inside of Cathleen snapped, and she refused to be a puppet any longer, standing up for herself with a ferocity that shook Dora to her core.
Xavier strode through the door, the weight of the day sloughing off his shoulders at the sight ahead. Cathleen stood at the stove, her movements fluid, and practiced, with little Bella snug against her back in a carrier, her chubby cheeks squished against her mother's spine. He couldn't help but smile."Hey, my girls," he murmured, bending to press a kiss first on Cathleen's temple, then on Bella's forehead, inhaling the homely scent of cooking and baby shampoo. He watched them for a moment longer before turning away, the warmth of their closeness giving way to the chill of the sitting room."I know you don't want to hear this," he called over his shoulder, the words carrying an edge as they cut through the domestic scene, "but your father has been discharged from the hospital."Cathleen's stirring stilled, her body tensing up. She exhaled, a weary sound that seemed to carry all the weight of her dread. "I can't lose him," she whispered more to herself than to Xavier."Old man's tough
Xavier’s heart was pounding, and his footsteps thundered as he descended the stairs. The scene before him was a twisted tableau: Avery’s arm was outstretched, her gun aimed directly at Cathleen, his wife, but Cathleen stood firm, unflinching, like stone."Aaa, right on time, babe," Avery cooed, her gaze sickly sweet upon Xavier. "I wanted you to watch when I shot her; she is the wall blocking our love from blooming.""Fuck," he muttered under his breath, his hands lifting in a gesture of surrender. "Avery, you must have forgotten; I am Cathleen's husband, not yours." His voice was ice, calmness belying the chaos."Always playing saint, aren't we?" Avery's scorn sliced through the air. "It has always been simple. Live your life to the fullest, but stay away from what's mine. Was that too much to ask Cathleen?"Her laughter was manic, echoing off the walls.Xavier's eyes flicked to Cathleen, searching for fear, for surrender. There was none. She was a fortress, her expression unreadable
Chaos erupted. Amidst the somber atmosphere of the funeral, a sudden shriek shattered the silence as William's lifeless body collapsed onto the ground. His blood stained the grass, mingling with the soil near Dora's freshly filled grave. "Oh, my God!" The cry echoed through the cemetery."She shot her own father!" Accusations flew as mourners scattered like leaves in a gale.Avery stood there, her face contorted with rage; her gun was still pointed at Cathleen. William took a shot for Cathleen because he couldn’t let her die; she was the only good one in the family. William’s body is now a barrier to Avery's twisted desires. People swarmed between them, their panic a living wall blocking Avery's line of fire."Move!" Avery's scream lashed out, raw and violent. But the crowd surged, oblivious to her fury. She spat venom at Cathleen, her voice a snarl. "You fucking bitch, I will make sure I finish what I started, and I will never stop until Xavier is mine!"Cathleen refused to let the c
A chill wind swept over the cemetery, rustling the solemn rows of tombstones. Cathleen's heels crunched on the gravel, her black dress clinging to her like a second skin. Xavier's arm was a vice around their daughter Bella, his jaw set and eyes dark as the sky above. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as they advanced, a wave of turned heads marking their path."Look at that," someone hissed from the sea of black attire."Did she really have to come?""Shh...it's starting."They settled near the front, close enough for William to feel their presence. His eyes met Cathleen's, an unspoken storm in the glance they shared. Cathleen lowered her gaze, a silent nod to the man who'd never let her fall. Avery, standing rigid by the casket, simmered with an anger so potent it could curdle blood."You shouldn't be here," she spat under her breath, words meant for snakes's ears only.Cathleen ignored her, the air too thick with grief and old grudges. She straightened, shoulders back, defiance etch
Xavier's arms, sinewy and sure, cradled Cathleen's limp form as he lifted her from the cold, unforgiving floor of the dungeon. The dim light cast shadows over her face, the afterglow of their session still etched on her features. He navigated the hallway with a predator's grace, each step deliberate, carrying his wife to the sanctuary of their bedroom and throwing the walk-in closet.He laid her down on the bed, silk sheets enveloping her like a lover's embrace. Xavier’s eyes lingered on Cathleen, tracing the curve of her cheek, the swell of her chest rising and falling in slumber. She was a vision—a tempestuous beauty drained by their shared intensity.The need for taking a shower before he sleeps pulled him away, and he slipped out of his clothes, leaving them in a heap. The shower beckoned, a hiss of steam and spray echoing off the marble. Water cascaded over him, a baptism washing away the remnants of their dark play.Surrounded by a thick cloud of steam, the sound of his phone pi
Cathleen's tongue moved with skilled precision, tracing the throbbing vein beneath his tight skin. Every time she sucked on it, he let out a deep guttural groan, his hips a machine of raw, carnal rhythm. he was using her as an instrument to fulfill his primal needs. She was merely an object to him, a tool for his darkest cravings, and yet she gloried in it."Fuck," he gasped, his voice a low animal growl. His body tensed, every muscle coiled tight, ready to unleash the storm brewing deep within his loins. Her mouth—so damn perfect—was both his heaven and hell. He hovered, teetering on the brink of oblivion, debating whether to cum on her face or her throat.Swallow it, he decided.He drove into her, relentless, his grip on her hair unyielding. Small thrusts turned her throat into his personal sanctum, his temple of release. And then the curse of his climax broke free—a whisper against the roar of his pleasure. Hot jets filled her, branding her insides, and though she gagged, she took