Romans & histoires Catherine Blake

"This is—wow." Zac chuckled softly. "My grandfather was a big reader. He quoted literature as if he were a human book himself." I turned to look at Zac, my eyes lit up. "Zac, this is amazing." Zac shrugged nonchalantly, smiling. "I thought you'd like it." He walked over to one wall, skimming the shelves until he pulled out a book. "I wanted you to have this." I looked at the book he held out for me to take. It was called "Bloom" by Kelle Hampton. I smiled at the title, meeting his eyes. "Wha—but why?"

Mary Redferne I didn’t sleep well, firstly because I am not in my bed, and secondly, because that kiss messed me up. I couldn’t stop thinking about Joseph Lachlan. My mom is a big fan of his mother as she is one of the few women who smashed through the patriarchy and built a business for herself. My mother loves Joseph a lot too; she says he is a good person, which is a rare thing nowadays. Obviously, she never met them, but she reads a lot of articles about them.

I can’t be weak. “There,” Mrs. Blake pointed. “But I told you, there’s nothing here.” True enough, the sidewalk was free of any marks or crime scene evidence. I walked around, careful to note anything that might be suspicious. “Don’t touch anything, we might not see it but forensic experts can.” Mrs. Blake stepped back. “We have to secure the area. They’ll be here any minute now.” She nodded, “Thanks, Austin. I never thanked you for always protecting her. You got her out when Augustus…” She stopped talking when she saw my pained expression. Because she’s gone, she’s nowhere to be found, isn’t she?

Damn him. “I’m not asking you to believe me right now. I just want… another chance to show you this is worth it. What do you say?” His eyes were on mine like he truly cared what my answer would be, and that’s what threw me off. There I was—Catherine. The woman who didn’t believe in love. Who didn’t want complications. And there he was—a billionaire who could have anyone, and for some reason, wanted me. “I don’t know…” I said, my voice unsteady. It wasn’t a no. It wasn’t a yes. It was my way of leaving myself a way out, just in case this all fell apart.

He kept pacing, growling, pushing against my control. “She’s ours,” he kept saying. “We need to claim her.” “Shut it,” I growled back mentally. “She’s just a girl who's here to perform her duties.” But even I was beginning to feel something tug at my heart. A few minutes later, Melvin returned and leaned in close. “Her name’s Catherine Blackwood,” he whispered. “She works for the event management company that handled the ball. Lives with her mother on the east side of the city. She’s a wolf, but not registered with any pack.”

Then a woman’s voice on the other end laughed softly. “Still playing the loving husband?” Ethan stopped near the stairwell, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “I’m not playing,” he said calmly. “I’m finishing a process.” Another pause. Then, lower this time, “Her blindness makes everything easier. She signs whatever I place in front of her. She trusts me completely.” A faint smile tugged at his lips. “And her family… they won’t be a problem for much longer.” The next morning, Isabella noticed the first small inconsistency.

The weight crushed her. His voice grows colder. ‘Where was this version of you then?’ I drag a hand down my face. "Not you too." I already know what Catherine is. I just need everyone to stop saying it. Black steps closer in my mind. ‘I need you to do something.’ My brow lifts slightly. "What?" ‘Find out if Catherine is the little witch.’ I inhale sharply and glance at the sky, as if it has answers. Black knows I already asked her. She denied it.

"Besides, I am curious... about this Blake Taylor." Ethan typed his fingers on the laptop before he showed it again to Winfield. He revealed, "These are bank transactions that my men have recovered over the past fourteen years, and here it shows that Catherine had sent Blake one million dollars. Why is that? And where did she get the money?" That utterly made Winfield frown. He recalled how Catherine suddenly struggled financially before their marriage. It was apparently because she sent all her money to Blake, but why? These were the thoughts that lingered in his mind.

He strode down the hallway, his footsteps heavy, until he reached them. “Catherine,” he said, voice calm but edged with warning. She turned, her smirk faltering for half a second before she recovered. “Oh, hey, babe,” she purred, her tone sugary sweet. “You’re late.” Blake ignored her. His gaze flicked to Amelia, then back to Catherine. “What’s going on?” Catherine batted her lashes. “Just talking.” Amelia scoffed. “Is that what you call it?” Catherine shot Amelia a glare before smiling up at Blake. “We were just setting some things straight. She thinks she’s too good for everyone—”