Xavier stepped out of the walk-in closet. Every inch of him looked as if he had been carved out of marble by the hands of ancient craftsmen. His presence was commanding, drawing the very air of the room to him as if he were the rightful owner of it. Cathleen's sharp and discerning gaze remained fixed on him. She could not look away. She took in the tailored lines of his suit that hugged his broad shoulders and the way his dark hair framed a face that could launch a thousand ships or ruin as many lives."Enjoying the view?" Xavier's voice cut through the silence, a smirk on the corner of his lips.Cathleen's heart raced. But her face remained impassive, her lawyer's mask firmly in place. "It's hard not to," she admitted, her tone of voice laced with a challenge.When she had agreed to marry Xavier, it had been Finn's face she had imagined at the altar. A bait and switch of hearts. But Finn's betrayal of Avery—a wound that still festered—had changed the game. Marrying Xavier was her che
As Xavier looked at the sticky proof of his cum his breath caught, giving him a brief moment of weakness. With a resigned exhale, he slid a cloth across the mess in a way that seemed mechanical. There was no tenderness in the act before it. As he walked back to where he was bathing Cathleen, the silence in their shared bathroom was thick with unspoken words. Her presence was a silent challenge to his detached existence."Time to dress up, cat," he said, his voice flat, as if he were dictating a schedule to an indifferent boardroom rather than addressing his wife.The bathroom tiles were cold and impersonal under Xavier's bare feet as he gathered a towel, its plushness a mockery of comfort in the sterile space. He approached Cathleen with the calculated steps of a man who had mastered control, though the world often mistook it for indifference. She was bound—not by love or desire, but by the cruel twist of fate that left her wheelchair-confined. He scooped her up effortlessly, his arms
Xavier prowled to where Cathleen sat, his shadow merging with the bright afternoon light that spilled through the window. He was stillness incarnate, a sculpture of ice and disdain. A shiver danced down her spine as she sensed him beside her, yet she did not turn to acknowledge his presence. The silence stretched between them, broken only by the sound of his voice, as cold and edged as the winter air outside."One thing about you, Cat," he began, the words slicing through the tension, "is that you are always ready for a fight."The muscles in Cathleen's jaw clenched a testament to her control. She faced forward, eyes fixed on the scene beyond the glass—a world moving while she was bound to stillness."Today, I am not here to fight you," Xavier continued, his tone carrying a sharp note of sarcasm that belied his claim of peace.Cathleen's grip tightened on the armrests of her wheelchair, her knuckles whitening. She hated that he saw her at a disadvantage, but she wouldn't give him the
Their shared bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun, filtering through the half-closed curtains. He sat across from Cathleen. Every crease in his brow was marked by the years he'd spent avoiding the spotlight that now seemed to scrutinize his family unforgivingly.Silence hung heavy, charged with the unspoken, before Xavier walked to the leather seat chair, settled next to the window, and sat. He leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning under the shift of his weight. "What did your family say when you caught your sister and your fiance?" His voice was low as if he were afraid to stir the air too much around her fragile frame.She braced herself against the edge of the wheelchair, fingers white-knuckled, gripping onto the last shreds of composure. "That, since Finn had slept with Avery, I should let him go," she said, her voice a razor's edge, cutting through the stillness. Her eyes mirrored a storm cloud ready to burst, yet not a single tear fell. "Not tha
The chill in the room seemed to seep into Cathleen's bones, yet her skin flared where Xavier's hands lay beneath hers. The accidental touch sparked a current that neither of them could ignore, an electrifying silence stretching out as their eyes locked. She was a fortress of composure; even sitting in her wheelchair, she towered over him with her will.Cathleen's voice cut through the tension, precise and clear. "I'll take your offer."Xavier held her gaze, his own eyes like shards of ice, searching for cracks in her armor. But Cathleen was unbreakable, her resolve etched onto her face, not a flicker of doubt shadowing her determined expression."Alright," he began, a slow drawl that carried the weight of command, "and Cat, I am your husband. Even if we hate each other, I'd prefer you call me first when you need help or are in some sort of trouble other than my dad, as that makes me look like a husband by name."His words were a cold blade pressed against the thin veneer of their rela
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