The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

The early morning sun had barely crested the horizon when Xavier’s black SUV pulled into the driveway of their sprawling mansion. He stepped out, his form casting a long shadow on the gravel as he moved with purpose toward the imposing front door. This dawn-lit return had become an unwelcome ritual, ever since Cathleen crumbled under the weight of their loss, clutching a doll to her chest instead of their baby Bella.

He entered the quiet living room, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee hung in the air like a veiled accusation. Cathleen was there, as expected, perched on the edge of their plush cream sofa, which now seemed more like a throne of judgment. She took measured sips from her porcelain cup, eyes fixed on some distant point only she could see.

“Cat, it’s not what you think,” he began, the lie tasting bitter on his tongue, “I had a late meeting I needed to attend to.” His voice betrayed him, rough with unspoken truths.

Cathleen’s laugh was a sharp crack in the silence; her gaze finally landed on him. “Since when have you ever seen the need to explain anything to me?” Her words were coated with venom as she brought the cup to her lips once more.

Xavier’s pulse quickened, and the vein in his neck was throbbing visibly. “I mean, that my daughter is dead doesn’t mean you can’t attend to your… heir, right?” The implication struck him hard-a direct hit to his already bruised conscience.

“Cathleen Knight, stop it!” he roared, the force of his anger reverberating through the room. “I am going through so much right now, trying to fix things so we can get back to normal, and all you can think is Olivia?”

The look in Cathleen’s eyes was unforgiving, cold, and calculating as she absorbed his fury without flinching. She stood up, her movements fluid and deliberate. Xavier bit back a curse, realizing he was teetering dangerously close to revealing his secret, the one thing that could shatter the fragile peace between them.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed away, but Cathleen’s voice halted him mid-stride.This material belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.

“Xavier,” she called out, a deceptive softness to her tone, yet the underlying threat was clear as day. He didn’t need to look back to know she wore a smile-one that spoke of a chess player closing in on the king.

“Remember, darling,” she continued, her voice dripping with disdain, “every secret has its price.” With a viper’s grace, Cathleen set her cup down and stood. “I will make sure the same pain you caused me, you feel it 100%, Mr. Knight,” she hissed, her voice an icy blade. “I will make you kneel and beg for mercy, but I will never show you mercy. You took my daughter away from me, and now you’re busy playing baby daddy with Olivia at the expense of my feelings.” Every word was a calculated strike, meant to wound or destabilize. She collected her handbag with a flourish of finality. “You will beg for divorce; you will beg to eat from me; I promise you that.”

He clenched his fists, feeling the familiar burn of rage and desire twist inside him. This woman, this infuriatingly brilliant woman, knew exactly how to provoke him. He wanted nothing more than to reign her in and remind her who truly held the power in their twisted game. But even as he stood there, caught in the tempest of his own emotions, he knew that engaging further would be playing right into her hands.

“Cat,” he said, his tone low and dangerous, a warning hanging off every syllable. “Don’t start a war you can’t win.”

Her only response was the soft clink of her cup on the table, a sound that echoed like a gauntlet being thrown. Her heels clicked like a clock counting down the end as she walked out, leaving Xavier reeling in the silence of the opulent living room. He stood immobilized, a man torn between fury and fear. He wanted to shout, to plead, to tell her everything would be okay-but the words dissolved on his tongue. The risk was too great; he could lose them both.

He was now left standing alone, the ghost of her presence wrapping around him like chains. He drew in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm she had stirred within him. He couldn’t afford to lose control-not now, not with so much at stake.

The sound of shuffling footsteps drew his gaze upward. Old Mr. Knight descended the stairs, leaning heavily on his walking stick, his eyes heavy with concern. “I know it’s hard, but Cathleen is fragile. She might seem like she has everything under control, but she doesn’t,” the old man said, his words slow and deliberate. “She can’t bear to see her like that. Have faith.”

Xavier’s jaw clenched at the sight of his father. “When did you get here?” he demanded, his voice rough with barely contained emotion.

“When you went to the safe room,” his father replied, reaching the last step and pausing, as if the weight of his words needed grounding. “I decided to come and watch how Cathleen is doing. But when I got here, I saw her pacing, back and forth, clutching that damn doll like it was flesh and blood.”

A heavy sigh escaped Xavier, his chest tightening with each breath. “Dad, she acts so tough by day and loses her mind at night.” His voice cracked, betraying the strain. “This has been going on ever since I told her Bella was gone. I really can’t keep on with this-the worst part is, she thinks I killed Bella, and now she’s going after my company.”

The revelation hung in the air, charged like the moments before a storm. Xavier had played many roles: the cold husband, the ruthless businessman, and the secret lover. But standing there, in the shadow of his father’s concern and Cathleen’s wrath, he felt none of those. He was laid bare, a man facing the ruins of his empire, built on secrets that were beginning to crumble.

“What do you mean, she’s going after your company?” Old Mr. Knight’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and demanding.

“Damn it, Dad,” Xavier spat out, turning to face him. His jaw was set, and his eyes were ablaze with a tumultuous mix of anger and desperation. “I investigated ‘The Eye of The Ocean’ during the auction. Wanted to know why it wasn’t on the block that day. And I found out-you helped Cathleen secure it behind the scenes.”

The old man’s expression remained unreadable, but he gave a slight nod, an acknowledgment heavy with implications.

“Christ!” Xavier cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “She’s been using that name-The Eye of The Ocean-to covertly buy shares. My stakeholders, they’re selling out to her one by one.”

The old man’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” There was a tremor in his voice, a crack in the facade of the family patriarch.

“Meaning,” Xavier growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Cathleen has amassed 7% of my company. For someone who claims to have no interest in business, she’s playing a damn calculated game.”

Old Mr. Knight gasped, gripping his walking stick tighter as if bracing himself against the blow of this revelation.

“Whatever her motive,” Xavier continued, his words laced with venom and worry, “it’s tied to Bella, I’m sure of it.” He stopped pacing, standing still as a statue, yet emanating a restless energy. “But letting Cathleen see her like that… it would destroy her. I’m trying to unravel this twisted knot while shielding her from the fallout.”

“Protecting her?” The old man’s tone shifted, now laced with skepticism. “Or protecting what’s left of your empire?”

“Both,” Xavier admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked away, unable to meet his father’s penetrating gaze. “I can’t lose everything. Not to vengeance. Not to her; I want them both, Dad; I can’t lose them; I would rather lose myself than lose my little girl and my wife.”

The room fell silent, save for the ticking of the grandfather clock-a relentless reminder that time was slipping through their fingers, just like the control Xavier once thought he had over his life, his love, and his legacy.