"Doctor West, I have the results that you asked for." The voice cut through the sterile silence of the office. Dr. West looked up, his piercing gaze landing on the younger doctor, who hesitated at the threshold, an envelope clutched in his hand."Come in, put it down here," Dr. West commanded, his tone allowing no room for argument as he gestured to the clutter-free expanse of his mahogany desk. The other doctor complied, laying the envelope down as if it were fragile cargo."Though, why did you ask me to run the test without the other party?" The inquiry was tentative, almost fearful of breaching some unspoken protocol.Dr. West's fingers grazed the envelope, his expression unreadable. "Well, I didn't want the young lady to have hopes."The words hung heavy in the air, like a thick fog that refused to dissipate. They were sentences that passed with the finality of a guillotine's blade, leaving behind an oppressive silence. As Dr. West tore open the envelope, his hands steady despite
Cathleen's grip slackened, her resolve wavering in the gilded foyer of their grandiose home. The weighty click of her luggage clasped shut echoed, a symbol of her intent to depart. Doctor West, stern as ever, approached with outstretched hands, firm and sure, seizing the handles that she couldn't bear. His arms tensed as he lifted, his eyes not unkind, guiding the heavy burdens away from her trembling form."Nothing that belongs to my wife will leave this premises. Including her," Xavier's voice sliced through the air, a razor-edged decree that halted everyone in their tracks. It was laced with an authority that bordered on the primitive, a claim staked deep into the ground of his estate.Doctor West's movement ceased, his spine stiffening and the wheels of the suitcase coming to a standstill against the marble floor. He turned, searching Xavier's eyes for any trace of Jest, only to find none. Even Old Mr. Knight, who stood a silent sentinel by the doorway, furrowed his brow in ponder
Dr. West's stern expression was the final image etched into Cathleen's mind as he exited the room. She sighed heavily and turned her weary gaze toward the laptop sitting on the desk in front of her. As if on cue, a new email notification popped up, jolting her back to reality. The weight of her pain seemed to intensify as she realized that life went on, no matter how much she wished for it to pause for just a moment longer.Cathleen's fingers trembled slightly as she clicked open the message. Glow Girl's logo—a radiant face encircled by stars—filled the screen, and with it, an offer that made her heart skip a beat. The photoshoot offer landed in Cathleen's inbox like a golden ticket. The brand, known for celebrating flawless skin, coveted her natural beauty that needed no enhancement. The payment promised was extravagant, a sum that couldn't be dismissed lightly.This was a great escape from her marriage and from her husband, who thinks he can boss her around. When Cathleen was abroad
Cathleen's presence in the room drew Xavier's gaze like a magnet, her confident stride contrasting with the delicate morning light that enveloped her. The subtle hues of dawn played on her features, accentuating the faint scars that adorned her skin—a testament to battles fought and hidden pains endured. Xavier longed to offer her sustenance, a silent plea echoing in his mind to nourish her resilience. Yet the echoes of their heated exchange lingered, stifling any words he might have spoken. Thus, he remained a silent observer, a veil of remorse shrouding his emotions as she paused at the door, sensing the weight of his unspoken sentiments lingering in the space between them.The door clicked shut behind her, and the room seemed to hold its breath before Olivia's presence pierced the silence. Her frown was a wrinkle etched between perfectly plucked brows, but she knew questioning Xavier about his lingering stare at Cathleen—that would be crossing an unseen line."Xa—" she ventured, on
The crystal chandeliers of Le Lumière d'Or cast prisms across Avery Jackson's discontented face as she twirled the stem of her untouched martini. Her friends, a cadre of New York glitterati, clinked glasses and laughed with a practiced air of nonchalance. Yet amidst the opulence, Avery's facade cracked."Avy, are you okay?" Concern laced her friend's voice, slicing through the murmur of elite conversations like a scalpel. Avery's eyes flickered, a momentary pause betraying her internal cacophony before the floodgates opened."You remember, I was supposed to be married, right?" She spat out the words, her manicured fingers tightening around the glass."Yeah, I've been wanting to ask about your marriage to Finn for a while. What happened?" The query hung heavy, ripe with the scent of scandal.Avery's laugh was a bitter crescendo. "Finn was useless," she declared, flinging the words like daggers. "He is not the owner of Knight Group; can you imagine? Not even the CEO; he was the assistan
Avery's hands trembled on the steering wheel, each breathing a shallow gasp as she navigated the familiar streets through a veil of tears. Her mind reeled with the overwhelming impossibility—Cathleen had taken her place at the altar—Cathleen, who was supposed to be nothing more than a footnote in Avery's grand life plan. The sting of betrayal burned hot within her, like salt rubbed vigorously into an open wound. Avery's heart pounded in her chest in a frantic attempt to escape the suffocating weight of it all. She'd fled from the restaurant, the taste of humiliation heavy on her tongue and threatening to choke her with every swallow.The gravel driveway echoed under her tires as she raced back to the house. Each pebble seemed to mock her, a cruel reminder of the shattered illusions that awaited her inside. Her fingers trembled as she yanked out the keys, snatched her purse, and carelessly flung off her high heels, discarding them near the car. The shoes felt like shackles, symbols of
Dora's breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she sprawled on the plush carpet, the weight of betrayal anchoring her to the ground. Her mind raced, piecing together the fragments of deception that lay scattered around her. With a surge of fury, she clawed her way up from despair, her eyes locking onto the retreating figure of her husband. "William," she hissed, venom lacing her voice as she stumbled forward, driven by a force she couldn't contain. "William Jackson!"Her hand trembled as she flung open the door to William's sanctum—a study drenched in the rich scent of leather and lies. There he stood, an unmoved monolith amidst the storm of her wrath, casually nursing his whiskey as if it were any other evening. Dora’s fingers clenched at her waist, her foot tapping out an impatient rhythm on the hardwood floor. “You lied to me. You dare lie to me, William?” Her accusation sliced through the heavy air, but it fell on deaf ears.William simply tilted his glass, the amber liq
Avery snapped the suitcase shut, a sharp click echoing off the sparse bedroom walls. "All set," she declared, her voice tinged with a mix of excitement and malice.From across the room, Dora ended her call with a flourish. "Thank you so much, Mr. Knight," she purred into the phone before fixing Avery with a calculated gaze. "We got the address. I will send a driver to take you there." It didn’t take long for the driver to arrive.The sleek black car arrived with an elegance that matched the scheme unfolding in their minds. Avery, with a predatory grace, hauled her luggage into the trunk and sank into the leather embrace of the back seat. The city blurred past, but Avery's thoughts were razor-sharp, fixated on the prize at the journey's end.Forty-five minutes evaporated like mist, and the imposing gates of Cathleen's estate loomed. Avery's smile was a slash of triumph. "What are you here for?" The guard's challenge was perfunctory."I am here to see Mrs. Knight; she's my sister." Her