The scent of Cathleen's aroused panties hit him again as the water ran down Xavier's body. He shook himself free of the feeling that was about to take over his entire being. The scent of Cathleen's arousal was a trigger—unexpected and powerful—a scent that should have been a side effect but instead was the trigger for a primal reaction in him. It was the height of madness, he thought, and he had no idea why. He couldn't make sense of the sudden rush—the visceral need spurred on by a mere whiff of her presence—but it had completely knocked him out. If Cathleen were ever to find this moment of weakness, her sharp tongue would lash out with words like knives, slicing through his excuses with the same precision she wielded in the courtroom. The water from the shower beat against his skin, hot and punishing, as if it could wash away the guilt that was now mixing with the soap and the sweat. He turned off the tap. The silence was heavy and oppressive. He grabbed a towel and rubbed the dro
Xavier's consciousness clawed its way back from the depths of sleep, his body's arousal a jarring contrast to the stillness of dawn. It was a primal urge, this morning’s hardness, yet it felt foreign alongside the warm curve of Cathleen's slumbering form. He lay there for a moment, the silence of their bedroom hanging heavy like a verdict.He slipped from the sheets, a shadow moving with silent urgency. The cool air of the room kissed his skin, whispering secrets only solitude could keep. In the bathroom, the sharp scent of antiseptic snapped him further into reality as he relieved himself, the sound of a steady drumbeat against porcelain—a reminder of life's mundanities even amidst inner turmoil.He faced his reflection, the lines of his face carved with years and cold dominance. With bristles rasping against his jaw during the ritualistic dance of toothbrush over teeth, he avoided his own gaze. He couldn't afford the introspection that came with looking too deep.The shower's hiss f
The silence was oppressive, a thick shroud that seemed to smother Cathleen's calls for help. Thirty excruciating minutes had crawled by since she woke up, and Xavier was nowhere to be found, and the room felt colder with each passing second. Lying there, immobilized by the accident, she cursed her own body's betrayal."Xavier," she hissed under her breath, her tone laced with venom. But the name evaporated into the stillness, unanswered. The pain reminded her she was alone, truly alone—no husband to come to her aid, no confidants to rely upon. Her eyes scanned the sterile room; it was a cage of luxury, each piece of furniture a reminder of the facade her life with Xavier had become.Cathleen's mind raced, calculating her next move with the precision she would have used in a courtroom. It wasn't defeat but frustration that gnawed at her—a predator she couldn't outmaneuver. She needed assistance, yet the woman who'd offered it was as anonymous as a ghost. In a place where names held pow
Cathleen traced the condensation on her water glass; the cold droplets were a contrast to the warmth that the first week had promised. A month at Xavier's vacation house—a gleaming fortress of solitude—and the walls between them only thickened. The staff bustled in the kitchen, their efficiency a silent reminder of Xavier's decision to put space where there might have been conversation, companionship, or something more."Your lunch, Mrs. Knight," the chef announced, placing a meticulously arranged salad before her.She offered a tight-lipped smile, her gratitude genuine, if not for the food, then for the presence of another human being. "Thank you."The chair opposite her remained empty, as it had for the past three weeks. Xavier's absence loomed larger than his brooding figure ever could. Cathleen speared a cherry tomato, its skin giving way with a soft pop—like the fragile bubble of hope she had nurtured upon arriving here.Xavier skirted the dining hall's entrance, a shadow passing
Sunlight streamed into the vast garage, casting long shadows over the gleaming collection of sports cars. Cathleen's fingers tightened around the knob of her walking stick as she edged forward, a calculated motion that bore the weight of her newfound independence. The hunger for fresh air and the bustle of the city beyond these walls gnawed at her insides. She hadn't savored the aroma of a restaurant or the murmur of a crowd in what felt like an eternity.Xavier's fleet sparkled under the fluorescent lights, each car a testament to his cold precision and love for speed—a stark contrast to the slow, deliberate pace Cathleen now embraced. Her gaze drifted toward the corner, where dust and neglect cloaked the sharp lines of a G-wagon. It stood like a relic, untouched and unappreciated.She let out a deep sigh. Xavier's hiding spots were like a maze that she had no energy to navigate at the moment. His secrets, always just beyond her grasp, taunted her with their quiet teasing.Turning pr
Cathleen's fingers traced the rim of her porcelain cup, a delicate dance of apprehension and resolve. Around her, the restaurant hummed with the quiet cadence of morning routines, yet within her chest, a storm brewed more bitter than the dark roast she reluctantly sipped."Did you know?" Her words cut through the murmurs, eyes fixated on the man across from her.Her father, William, met her gaze with a wearied resignation that belied his stoic front. The air thickened between them, laden with the weight of unspoken truths and the sharp tang of betrayal."Did you know I wouldn't be marrying Finn that day, but his uncle?" The question hung in the air, accusatory and demanding. Her voice was steel-wrapped in velvet, as authoritative as any closing argument she'd delivered in the courtroom.William's nod was almost imperceptible, but to Cathleen, it roared like thunder. "Mr. Knight called me before the wedding," he began, his voice steady despite the tremor Cathleen detected—a lawyer's da
Cathleen’s fingers drummed against the steering wheel, a staccato rhythm that echoed her racing thoughts as she navigated the familiar route to work. The morning sun glared off chrome and glass, but inside her car was a sanctuary of shadowed thoughts.She swung into her reserved parking spot, the engine's purr dying as she cut the ignition. Her heels clicked with authority across the concrete as she entered the building, the sound a sharp counterpoint to the whispers of betrayal still ringing in her ears.Settling into the leather chair behind her desk, Cathleen couldn't help but replay the scene from the restaurant in her mind. A smirk crawled across her face, unbidden. Xavier Knight—her husband, the enigma—at the helm of Knight Group International? It made an absurd kind of sense.She chuckled, the sound hollow in the expanse of her office. Farms? Hardly. Xavier exuded a polished steel presence that spoke of boardrooms, not barns. The scent of money and power clung to him like colog
The keys clattered onto the mahogany desk, signaling the end of another victorious battle in the courtroom. Cathleen's heels clicked a definitive rhythm as she strode out of the law firm, her shoulders squared against the weight of her reputation—undefeated, unyielding. The evening sky was a canvas of dusky blues and purples, with shadows playing across the parking lot where Xavier's sleek car sat unattended. It felt like an act of defiance just to slide into the driver's seat and claim something of his or hers, even temporarily.She maneuvered through the city streets with precision, her lips set in a thin line. Each stoplight was a momentary pause in her tightly wound existence, each green light, a silent permission to continue on this path she had been shackled to. The vehicle hummed to a stop in the familiar driveway, and her hand reached for the walking stick, a necessary tool since the accident that Xavier never asked about. She braced herself against its solid support, each ste