After being betrayed by her stepsister, Cathleen left the country and went abroad. However, on the day she returned to NYC, she was asked to marry the same man she caught sleeping with her stepsister 3 years ago. Cathleen agreed, as she was marrying the man to save her grandmother and wanted revenge, as well as to cut ties with her family. To her surprise, the man she married wasn't the man who betrayed her 3 years ago; it was a different man she had never seen. What happened to Finn? How will she get her revenge? Her stepmother and stepsister found out that Finn wasn't the owner of Knight Group, so they devised a plan to make Cathleen marry the lapdog while they found out who owned Knight Group. But with Finn on the run, who then did Cathleen marry? Xavier was dimmed to be a cousin from the farm; little did the mother-and-daughter pair know that he was the big shot they had been looking for.
View MoreCathleen rose from the tangled sheets, a frown creasing her forehead. Her feet found the plush carpet as she made for the door."Where are you going?" Xavier's voice, deep and commanding, anchored her to a halt."To my room, I need to freshen up," she replied without turning, her tone clipped and resolute."This is your room; this is where you belong. I've moved all your things to this room." The declaration was possessive, brooking no argument.Cathleen spun around, the incredulity written stark across her features. "What?" She spat the word out like a curse. "What right do you have to move all my belongings to this room?"Xavier's eyes, cold and unyielding, locked onto hers. "The right a husband has over his pregnant wife," he countered, his voice firm and dismissive of any protest. "I don't want to argue with you, and if you're going to start with the Olivia drama, know this—I have never been to this room with her."He paused, his gaze never wavering. "Olivia knows my room to be th
The ornate, wrought-iron doors of the opulent Knight residence groaned their welcome as Cathleen swung her sleek car into the grand driveway. Despite the luxurious surroundings, every line of her body exuded reluctance and a sense of being trapped. With a decisive jab of her finger, she killed the engine, a symbolic gesture that could not mask her true intentions: she wasn't staying, not if she could help it. The sprawling mansion loomed before her, its imposing presence a constant reminder of Xavier's control over her. To Cathleen, it was nothing more than an ornate cage, beautiful on the outside but suffocating within its gilded walls."Damn sham," Cathleen muttered under her breath, her voice a low hiss as she gathered herself for the charade. Her hand rested protectively over the subtle swell of her abdomen; the child within was hers alone, Xavier be damned.With calculated poise, she stepped out into the crisp air, her heels clicking on the stone like a metronome ticking toward h
Dora's knuckles rapped sharply against the polished oak door of Cathleen and Xavier's opulent suburban estate. The grandeur of the house towered over her, a physical manifestation of the lavish lifestyle she hoped to secure for her daughter, Avery. She pressed her nose against the beveled glass portal, straining to catch a glimpse of the immaculate interior that surely awaited inside. With a loud creak, the door swung open, revealing a foyer lined with marble floors and adorned with sparkling chandeliers."Excuse me, can I help you, ma'am?" The housekeeper's voice jolted Dora from her snooping. A veneer of warmth painted her lips as she turned to face the woman, her eyes glinting with false tenderness."I'm Cathleen's mother. I'm here to take care of her," she declared, her voice oozing with honeyed concern that failed to reach her calculating eyes. There was a hint of pride and authority in her tone. She stood tall and confident, with a sharp jawline and piercing gaze that seemed to
Edward's fists clenched as he stood outside the heavy oak door, the veins in his hands throbbing like angry serpents under his skin. He rapped sharply on the wood, each knocks echoing through the silent corridor with the weight of desperation. The study was a sanctum of power, where destinies were altered with a single word from the old man seated within."Come in," came the gravelly voice from the other side."Father!" Edward exhaled, pushing the door open. His heart pounded against his ribs, each beating like a drum of war in the quiet study.The old man sat ensconced behind a massive desk, a fortress of mahogany and leather-bound books. His gaze, sharp as a blade, cut through Edward. He slowly and deliberately removed his glasses, letting them dangle from one hand, a silent command for Edward to speak."I have been trying to get Finn out of jail, but I can’t seem to get through the authorities," Edward said, his voice a tightrope of control."Why?" The syllable was a bullet, quick
Xavier stood, his posture a statue of disbelief, outside the sterile walls of the court hall. The verdict echoed in his ears, but it was the silence of his unborn child's voice that screamed within him. He was a tempest of fury; Cathleen had robbed him of his rightful place by her side during the pregnancy, and now she would pay."Sir, this is for you." The manila envelope appeared in front of him, stark against the gray day. "Madam's office, her firm... and her home address." The smugness in his assistant's voice grated on Xavier, yet it was music to his darkening mood.A smirk unfurled on Xavier's lips, sharp as a blade. "Oh, and sir, this is the new number she is using."Behind him, Old Mr. Knight's chuckle rumbled like distant thunder. Xavier caught the old man's knowing glance before spinning on his heel. "That old fox," he murmured with grudging respect. His voice dropped an octave. "Take me home. I have a wife to torture."Morning light dared to pierce through the curtains of Xa
The courtroom hushed, the air thick with tension, as Cathleen's lips curled into a knowing smirk. She pierced Anastasia with her gaze, unyielding and as sharp as a scalpel. "Miss Brown, I would like you to repeat your statement," she demanded, her voice cutting through the whispers that had begun to swirl like vultures around a carcass.Anastasia's voice trembled, her eyes darting about, seeking an escape that wasn't there. "I said I don't know. I don't remember."Cathleen spun on her heel to face the judge, the hem of her tailored gown flirting with the edge of aggression. "Your honor, Miss Brown doesn't remember what happened that night. How then did she remember she was raped?" Her query hung in the air, an accusation cloaked in concern. "How can we take a statement from someone who remembers nothing at all into consideration? If Miss Brown's memory is a blank slate for that night, your honor, I'm afraid there's no goddamn case here."Nods rippled across the room, silently assentin
The plaintiff's lawyer paced before the jury, his voice rising like a prosecutor from an old noir film, dripping with accusation. "Mr. Knight," he began, his index finger pointedly directed at the defendant, "the rape case came in not as a surprise." He paused for effect, letting the words hang heavy in the air. His gaze swept across the room, locking eyes with each juror. "You have had so many scandals in the past about changing women like you were changing your underwear."Murmurs skittered through the courtroom, but Xavier's steel gaze never wavered, fixed on the one person who mattered: Cathleen, his wife."Language!" barked the judge, a stern admonition that momentarily stilled the whispers. But the lawyer pressed on, undeterred."This man was found butt naked in his own hotel with my client, your honor," he continued, brandishing the photographs like a victorious gladiator. The images flashed before the court, explicit and damning—a tableau of flesh and guilt. "And he had the gu
Cathleen's eyelids fluttered open to the sterile light of dawn filtering through her sleek, modern office. She'd spent the night there again, with the couch becoming a makeshift bed more often than not. The ritual of morning coffee and case briefs lay shattered; James had always been her metronome, setting the rhythm of her day with uncanny precision. Today, silence greeted her as discordant and wrong.She perched on the edge of her desk, the screen in front of her already alive with the courtroom's austere ballet—lawyers pirouetting around legal precedents, the plaintiff's counsel animated and bold. Yet the space for defense was empty—an absence that gnawed at her gut. "Where the hell are you, James?" she muttered, her thoughts jagged in her mind.Her hand reached for the phone, a lifeline to clarity, but it buzzed first, disrupting the stillness. "James, you are running late?" She snapped before he could speak, her voice a whip crack in the quiet office."Fuck, Cathy..." The strain
James flicked through the grainy footage, his fingers poised over the keyboard like a pianist ready to strike. "Check this out," he said, his voice low and laden with urgency. The screen displayed a timestamp frozen at 8:38 PM.Cathleen leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she observed the woman in the video. "That's Anastasia. And that's not Xavier." Her lips twisted into a grim line, the revelation igniting a spark of vindication within her. "She lied.""Exactly," James replied, his tone matching the gravity of the situation. He clicked play, and the footage resumed, showing Anastasia entering the hotel lobby without Mr. Knight in tow."Where the hell is Xavier then?" Cathleen muttered more to herself than to James. It was a puzzle, each piece meticulously falling into place, but with gaps still yawning between truth and deceit."Wait for it..." James paused the footage once more, bringing up another clip. "Mr. Knight leaving his office at 10:51 PM." He turned to face her, his expr
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