The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

Xavier’s hand, a silent demand in the predawn haze, brushed against Cathleen’s arm. She jolted awake, her pulse quickening beneath her skin as she met his gaze. The corners of his lips twitched upward, a stark contrast to the hard lines etching his face.

“Good morning, babe,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep and something darker, more caustic.

“Morning.” His tone was flat, his eyes scanning her like she was a puzzle to solve. “Don’t you think you were a bit cruel to your sister yesterday?”

Cathleen’s eyelids fluttered, a clear display of disdain. A subtle eye roll followed one that she did not bother to suppress. The corners of her mouth turned downward in a disapproving frown as she searched for the right words to express her displeasure.

“Cat,” he growled, the warning in his voice sharp enough to cut. “You’ll regret that. Don’t ever fucking roll your eyes for me.”

A sigh escaped her, heavy with exasperation. “Did you wake me up just to talk about Avery? If so, I might as well get back to sleep, or better yet…” Her voice trailed off, her back now to him, a silent fortress against his words.

His response was immediate-a snarl wrapped in silk. “Cathleen Knight, when I am talking to you, you don’t fucking do that.” He gripped her shoulder, spinning her around to confront her defiance head-on.

“Are you not tired?” Her query was a whisper of challenge.

“We fucking fight every time; we can’t even get to know each other in peace!” Cathleen yelled, and his grip tightened, a physical corollary to their constant battle of wills.

“Did you fucking yell at me, Cat?” Xavier’s hand crept up, fingers encircling her neck with a pressure that was both threatening and intoxicating.

“And I will fucking yell at you if you bring my family business to our bedroom. This room is for us to sleep, make love, and laugh. I’m tired of fighting. Aren’t you? Am I supposed to be scared now?” Cathleen’s retort came out breathless, her own anger mingling with an undeniable thrill.

“Sorry,” he muttered, the hardness in his touch receding. He released her, tension bleeding away though the air remained thick with it. “But please try to reach out to them.”

“I won’t,” Cathleen snapped her resolve ironclad, her words slicing through any hope of reconciliation. “And don’t ask me again.”

Their standoff hung heavy, a tightrope stretched to near breaking. But as the silence settled, they remained locked in orbit, bound by something fierce and unyielding.

The cold morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting a pale glow on the plush carpet as Cathleen’s bare feet touched down. The ring of her phone shattered the silence. An unknown number flashed across the screen, but curiosity won out.

“Hello,” her voice was groggy yet edged with steel.

“Cathy, this is Avery; how are you this morning?” The familiar syrupy tone made Cathleen’s eye twitch.

“Good, how about you?” She kept it curt, clipped.

“I’m good, Cathy. I wanted to spend some time with Bella if that’s okay with you. Bella needs to know her aunt in case something happens to you.”

“In case something happens to me?” A laugh, more a snarl, escaped her lips. “Do you wish something happened to me?”

“No, Cathy, I’m just saying that no one knows tomorrow. I just want to get to know my niece.”

“She was born seven months ago,” Cathleen hissed. “Seven months, and now you remember your niece? Stay the fuck away from me, my child, my house; just stay away from anything that belongs to me.” Click. End call. Finality.

Steam poured from the bathroom as Xavier emerged, a towel slung low on his hips. His gaze lingered on Cathleen, cautious and calculating. He dressed silently, tension knotting every move, then retreated to the sitting room.

Cathleen followed moments later, the weight of the phone call heavy in her chest. She collapsed next to Xavier, resting her head on his lap, seeking solace in the warmth of his thigh.

“Cat, your stepsister called.”

A dagger had less bite than her glare. “When did you two exchange numbers?”

“Cat, she really wants to see Bella-”

“Xavier Alexander Knight,” her voice was ice, a blade ready to cut. “One more word to Avery, and you lose your perfect sub. And your kitty privileges.”

His eyes widened, his mouth agape.

“Me and Bella or Avery. Choose.”

Silence hovered, thick as fog, before he whispered, “You and our daughter, babe.”

“Then block her.”

“Yes ma’am.” His fingers danced over the screen, a pledge sealed in silence.

Resting back against him, Cathleen closed her eyes. In the quiet, their hearts beat a syncopated rhythm-a fragile truce in the eye of the storm.

Later that night, Xavier’s fingers lingered over the cold screen of his phone, a shadow creeping across his features. The room was dim, lit only by the malignant glow of city lights that dared penetrate through the half-closed blinds. He dialed with trepidation, the numbers echoing in the silence like an accusation.

“Hello, Xavier.”

The familiar voice came swift and smooth as if William Jackson had been expecting this call, waiting for it. A shiver ran down Xavier’s spine. His jaw clenched.

“Sir, I’m… concerned about Cathleen,” he confessed, the words tasting like ash on his tongue. “The way she treats Avery-it’s so harsh.”

“Support her,” came the terse command, a dismissal wrapped in velvet tones.

“Fuck,” Xavier muttered under his breath as the call ended, the finality hanging heavy in the air. He pocketed the device with a sense of betrayal, the weight of his father-in-law’s words anchoring him in confusion.

He stepped into their bedroom, his gaze fixed on Cathleen. She was a vision of vulnerability, the curve of her body outlined beneath the sheets, a stark contrast to the steel in her soul.

“Cat,” his voice barely above a whisper, betraying the turmoil inside.

“Mmm?” Her reply was soft, a melody against the discord of his thoughts.

“Shit, I’m sorry. About this morning.” His hands were fists, the need to touch her wrestling with the dread of crossing unseen lines.

Cathleen turned to him, eyes glinting in the half-light. A ghost of a smile played on her lips, a silent challenge.

“We are just starting to know each other, are we?” Her words dripped irony, laced with a warning.

“Fuck, yes.” He exhaled, tension bleeding from his shoulders. “I won’t fall for their shit, Cat.”Copyright by Nôv/elDrama.Org.

“Good.” It was a purr, a promise, a threat-all rolled into one. And Xavier knew there was no turning back.