“How much?” Cathleen has grown colder over the years. The sweet girl everyone knew was gone. Not even a man could soften her heart. It was as if the girl didn’t have a heart at all; she was stone cold. The two looked at each other and couldn’t answer. Cathleen is where she is today, with no one’s help, not even her own father. She worked part-time to pay for her studies. The two didn’t answer as she continued to stare down at them. Cathleen arched an eyebrow at them, asking them to say how much they had spent on her, but no one spoke.
Cathleen's once warm and kind demeanor has hardened into a chilling coldness over the years. Not even the presence of a man could thaw her frozen heart. It was as if she had no heart at all, made of stone and impenetrable. As the two faced each other in silence, neither able to answer nor understand this distant version of Cathleen, it became clear that she had clawed her way to where she was today on her own, without anyone's help or guidance—not even her own father's. She worked tirelessly to pay for her education, a burden that should have been shared by those who claimed to care for her. Cathleen arched an eyebrow at them, asking them to say how much they had spent on her, but their guilt-ridden faces remained mute. At that moment, Cathleen's frigid gaze held more power than any words could convey.
Cathleen's arms crossed tightly over her chest, her expression shifting from cold and distant to one of disgust and contempt. Her sneer revealed a flash of perfectly straight and white teeth. Her once warm brown eyes, now icy and unyielding, “You say I owe you. How much do I owe you?”
The silence in William's study was suffocating, heavy, and thick like a fog. Every sound was amplified, from the faint tick of a clock to the drop of a pin hitting the hardwood floor. Both individuals were rendered speechless, their mouths agape as they struggled to find the words to break the stifling stillness. But all that could be heard was the deafening echo of their own breathing, a reminder of their helplessness in this tense and oppressive atmosphere.
Cathleen continued, “That is my condition, or we wait for your precious daughter to finish what she started.” Dora's heart pounds in her chest, fear and determination swirling together like a deadly storm. She would rather face death than let her precious daughter marry someone like Finn, who possesses nothing but empty promises and shallow pockets. The very thought makes her blood boil, her maternal instinct driving her to protect at any cost.
“Fine!” Dora was quick to answer.
“Very well then.” Cathleen checked her watch. We still have 3 hours before the wedding. Let’s go to the Department of Civil Affairs to finalize the formalities.” William knew that his daughter meant every word, so he picked up his phone and called old Mr. Knight.
Old Mr. Knight: Hello William.
William: Old Mr. Knight, we have a problem. My daughter, Avery, ran away. Since we need this alliance, is it okay if I bring my other daughter, the one who was engaged to Finn before, to marry him?
There was a pause on the other line. Old Mr. Knight loved Cathleen more than Avery, and he loved the way she carried herself. He knew that Finn cheated because she never slept with him. While Avery was different and wild. The man saw Avery as a cheap girl. In reality, he could have loved it if Cathleen could marry his youngest son, Xavier. The man sighed and finally spoke.
Old Mr. Knight: William, let me get back to you. I will have to talk to Finn.
The man cut the call and asked one of the servants to summon Finn to his study.
After about 5 minutes, old Mr. Knight looked at his grandson, Finn. “Your bride ran away. It seemed like she had cold feet. So you will marry Cathleen.” Finn felt like a bucket of dirty, cold water had been poured all over his body. In horror, he looked at his grandfather.
“Grandpa, you know that girl hates my guts. She wants revenge. Not happening.”
“The problem is, you like easy women.”
“Not happening!” Finn's face contorted in anger as he yelled, his eyebrows furrowed, and his jaw clenched. He leaned forward in his chair, his hands gripping the arms tightly.
“That’s final! I don’t remember giving you a choice!” The commanding voice of Old Mr. Knight left no room for arguments, booming like thunder and reverberating through the tense air.
As he learned that Cathleen would take the place of his girlfriend, Avery, Finn's mind began to spin. He couldn't believe it, knowing how much Cathleen resented him for his past mistakes. How could they ever have a successful relationship after all that had happened between them? A strong sense of guilt and regret washed over Finn as he realized the consequences of his actions. He had always loved Cathleen, but Cathleen was a strict woman. ‘The, do not touch me or kiss me till you put a ring on it.’ kind of girl. She was a strict and naive woman, but he also knew that marrying Cathleen would be a fatal mistake.
He could sense the malice in her heart, silently plotting revenge. Yet his heart belonged to another woman, Avery Jackson, who happened to be Cathleen's sister. Finn's mind raced as he made a desperate choice; he fled. Without hesitation, he bolted from the limousine just as it stopped in front of the looming church gates. The weight of his decision settled heavily on his shoulders as he disappeared in broad daylight, leaving behind a shattered future.
Panic set in as bodyguards barged into the church, frantically informing the Knight family that their youngest son had disappeared without a trace. Old Mr. Knight's orders to block all airports and roads yielded no sign of Finn. But Finn was nowhere to be found. Then an idea came to old Mr. Knight. His youngest son, Xavier Alexander Knight,
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