The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

Xavier’s gaze locked onto Cathleen, a challenge smoldering in his ice-blue eyes. “Cat, I’d like to take you out on a date,” he declared, his voice a firm command that dared her to object.

She tilted her head, a coy smile playing on her lips. “But then, Mr. Knight, isn’t it a little late since we have a little handbag to take care of?” Her tone was laced with amusement, yet she could feel the underlying seriousness of his request.

“Leave Bella home with the workers, or bring her along. What do you think?” His suggestion hung between them, weighted with unspoken promises.

Cathleen’s response came through a smile and a nod, subtle but deliberate. Xavier’s expression darkened immediately. “I told you I hated nods,” he growled, the chill in his voice sending a shiver down her spine.

“Mr. Knight, you are only a Dom in the dungeon, not outside the dungeon.” Her words were daring as she rubbed cream into her legs, each stroke defiant against his claim over her.

Xavier leaned in close, his breath hot on her skin. “You’re wrong, Cat. I’m a Dom everywhere.” His words were low, possessive. “A king isn’t a king only in his castle. When he steps out, he’s still a king. Get dressed. I’ll send you the location for the restaurant.” He sealed his decree with a kiss on her forehead, a gesture both tender and domineering.

In her bedroom, Cathleen slipped into the short spaghetti crisscross back dress, its hem teasingly high. The heels she chose lifted her an audacious six inches off the ground. She attended to Bella next, adorning her in a flower print dress festooned with a large bow and crowning her with a matching nylon accessory.

The message from Xavier arrived; the restaurant’s name glowed on her phone screen. Without hesitation, Cathleen gathered their things and stepped into the car. The driver knew better than to speak, starting the engine and pulling away from their residence.

Upon arriving, Xavier’s presence dominated the space, despite his choice of a normal dining area over a secluded one. “This is beautiful, Xavier,” Cathleen murmured, taking in the ambiance he had selected for them.

“Nothing compared to you, Cat.” His reply came as he offered her flowers and pulled out her chair, a gentleman’s veneer over his domineering core. Then he turned, taking Bella into his arms, relieving the driver of their daughter.

Cathleen watched him, the man who commanded empires, now cradling their child with a gentle strength. The tension between them-always there, always sparking-didn’t diminish in this domestic tableau. It simply took on a new shade, one that promised a night of discovery, of taut exchanges, and perhaps, just perhaps, a glimpse of something raw and vulnerable beneath Xavier’s ever-present armor of control.

The clink of fine stemware punctuated the silence hovering between them. Xavier’s gaze, always so penetrating, softened as he leaned in. “I didn’t know what you would like or feel like,” he murmured, his voice a brushstroke on the canvas of the evening, “so I didn’t book the food. Order what you want.” His eyes locked onto hers, unyielding. “Even if they take time making the food, I get to spend time with the two most important people in my life.”

“Can I please have a bottle of Pinot Noir?” Cathleen’s request sliced through the din of the restaurant, her tone crisp.Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“And I’ll have Wyoming on the rocks,” Xavier added, his voice carrying a hint of gravel.

Their drinks arrived, whispers of condensation gracing each glass. They lingered over sips, unraveling threads of conversation, exploring likes and dislikes. With each revelation, Xavier’s satisfaction grew. He was learning her, mapping her mind.

“Cat,” he said, leaning closer, “I think we should do more of this. The dates. I love knowing you.”

Her laughter, a rare sound, tinkled like a delicate chime, but it fractured abruptly as an all-too-familiar voice cut through their cocoon.

“Oh my gosh, Cathy!”

Cathleen’s head whipped around, her spine stiffening. Xavier merely shrugged, his expression unreadable.

“How are you, or my God, is this my little niece?” Avery cooed, a serpentine smile playing on her lips as she reached for Bella. Her fingers grazed the child’s cheek, a calculated gesture designed to invade Xavier’s personal space.

“Brother-in-law, you look charming as usual.” Avery purred, her laughter grating against Cathleen’s nerves. She appropriated a chair, its legs scraping against the floor-a harsh intrusion into their private sphere.

“Don’t worry, I’m leaving,” Avery continued, her voice a relentless assault. “I came with friends and just happened to see you while walking in.” She said and then went on.

“Motherhood really suits you,” she remarked, her gaze lingering on Cathleen with feigned warmth.

“I’m fine,” Cathleen replied curtly, her words clipped.

Avery, ever the interloper, had cast her shadow over their evening. But Cathleen’s resolve held firm, her demeanor unflinching. This was her battleground, and she would not yield.

Avery leaned in, her perfume cloying assault. “Oh, Cathy, I heard what Mother did; you really didn’t deserve what she did.” Her voice oozed false sympathy like poison from a snake’s fang. Cathleen remained motionless, her face an impassive mask. “She’s back now, and trust me, she regrets everything.”

The clink of cutlery on porcelain seemed to underscore Avery’s every word. Cathleen’s gaze never wavered, her eyes cold as steel. “This is not the right time or place to discuss such things, Avery,” she said, her voice flat.

“Right, I’m sorry.” Avery’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her fingers danced across Bella’s cheeks, leaving invisible trails of insincerity. “Is it okay for me to maybe spend time with my little cute niece?”

Cathleen’s lips twisted into a sneer. “I don’t need to remind you that we are not friends,” she reminded her stepsister, her words sharp as shards of glass. “What do you want?”

“Come on, Cathy, we’re family,” Avery cooed, pushing further. “I forget, Mom and I were kicked out after what she did.” Her eyes flickered, searching for leverage. “You should check on dad; he must be really lonely.”

Cathleen’s reaction was brief-a flicker of shock-but she cloaked it instantly under a veneer of composure. “I will call him,” she managed, betraying nothing more.

Avery departed, slinking away like a satisfied cat. Xavier watched her go, his expression unreadable. “She seems genuine this time,” he ventured, but his words lacked conviction.

“Trust me, she wants something.” Cathleen’s voice was laced with certainty, a dark note that hinted at storms brewing. “I know her.”

Their dinner resumed, but the air hung heavy, fraught with unspoken tension. Xavier reached for his drink, ice clinking ominously in the silent aftermath of Avery’s visitation.