The leather of the car seat groaned under Xavier as he shifted, his gaze lingering on the serene face of Cathleen. Her chest rose and fell in a silent rhythm, oblivious to the world's weight she so often carried. The vehicle's engine cut, the sudden quiet marking their arrival. He studied her-a warrior in repose-and felt an unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest.
Xavier's hand moved to the door handle, a deliberate betrayal of routine. Caleb, mirror eyes wide in the rearview, watched as the door clicked open, self-sufficiency breaking the unspoken protocol between master and servant.
"Sir?" Caleb's voice held a question he dared not ask.
"Let her rest," Xavier replied, his voice low but spurred by the undercurrents of a brewing storm.
Graceful despite his size, Xavier slipped from his seat, the night air crisp against his skin. With a protector's gentleness, he cradled Cathleen, lifting her with ease born from necessity rather than affection. Her head nestled against his shoulder, her breath a whisper against his neck. She stirred, a frown fleeting across her features, but did not wake.
"Keep an eye out," Xavier commanded over his shoulder, his words for Caleb carrying an edge sharper than any blade.
"Olivia?"
"Exactly. Make sure she doesn't do anything stupid."
Caleb nodded, understanding the gravity beneath Xavier's terse command. Olivia's obsession was no secret; her ambition was as sharp and dangerous as broken glass.
With each step toward the jet, Xavier's shadow stretched long and dark, a harbinger of the power he wielded and the violence it beckoned. His world, built on control and cold calculation, allowed no room for error-especially not from Olivia Williams.
Inside, the muted hum of the aircraft awaited its master's command. Xavier turned down the narrow corridor, and the walls closed like confidants sharing whispered secrets of betrayal and love. He paused at the doorway of a small room, a sanctuary within the steel bird, and laid Cathleen down with reverence that belied his ruthless nature.
He stood there for a moment, watching her sleep, the lines of his face softening. But the reprieve was fleeting; his expression hardened once more, the mask of the sex god, the tycoon, sliding back into place.
"Everything will be alright," he murmured, though whether it was a promise to her or a vow to himself, even Xavier couldn't say.
Cathleen's eyelids fluttered, consciousness seeping in like the dawn. Above her, an expanse of azure stretched out, so pure and vast that she nearly gasped. Her heart skipped-was this the afterlife? But reality clawed back as she turned, the softness of a bed beneath her incongruous in the steel belly of a plane.
"Xavier." The name slipped from her lips before she registered the man himself-an imposing silhouette against the streaks of the moon that invaded the cabin.
At her call, he snapped to attention, the iPad forgotten as it clattered onto the plush carpet. His strides were purposeful, eating up the distance between them. "Hey Cat, how are you feeling?" Xavier's voice, usually clipped with authority, held a note of something almost tender.
"Like I've been hijacked," Cathleen replied, and her sharp tongue showed that she wasn't thankful for the comfort of his private jet. The light made it hard for her to see, so she shifted on the bed, arms crossed on her chest, and looked at him. If she didn't know better...
But she did. This was Xavier Knight-cold and ice. A man who wore ruthlessness like a second skin, who avoided flashing cameras like plagues, and who loved women as much as he loved winning-which was to say fiercely, but fleetingly. His warmth was a facade, a calculated display meant to disarm.
"Where are we going?" she demanded, her voice steady despite the disquiet churning in her chest. Her mind raced every calculated move building upon years of courtroom battles where she'd remained undefeated. She wouldn't lose control now-not to Xavier Knight.
Xavier's lips curled in a knowing smirk, the sight before him an intoxicating blend of vulnerability and venom that only Cathleen could manifest. Her eyes, usually so poised and calculating, now flashed with a feral intensity that sent a familiar thrill down his spine. He leaned back against the plush leather seat of the private jet, relishing the moment as he baited her. "So, since we're apparently in the afterlife," he drawled with feigned casualness, "why not divulge the true reason you married me?"
"It seems I've been cast in your underworld drama," he quipped, cloaking his sentiment with mockery. "Now, in this supposed afterlife, indulge me-why, Cathleen?"
Cathleen's gaze swept the plush interior of the private jet as if seeking an escape or perhaps confronting the incongruity of their surroundings. A farmhand's fortune shouldn't stretch to the skies. Yet here they were, soaring.
Cathleen's gaze swept the cabin again, this time with more determination, a sanctuary of wealth far removed from the rustic simplicity of farm life if her husband was Mr. Knight's son from the farm. How had Xavier, who shunned the limelight as if it were poison, secured such extravagance? She didn't let the question reach her lips. Instead, she met his challenge with the sharp edge of her tongue.
"Xavier," she started, ice-etching her words, her voice slicing through the hum of the aircraft. "I don't love you. I never did." She hesitated, a flicker of discomfort crossing her face. "It was about my last name. A means to an end. "But I told you this already."
A pregnant pause stretched between them, charged with unspoken history.
"Right!" Xavier chuckled, his hollow and mirthless laughter echoing off the walls as he retreated to his seat across from her. coolly retreating to his seat. "I'm just the ladder to your lofty ambitions," he says, then sighs.
"Vacation," he announced, the word loaded with unspoken promises and threats alike. "We're going on our honeymoon."
The sudden heat that flooded Cathleen's cheeks betrayed her composed exterior, a girlish flush that mocked her usual stoic facade. It was a sensation she loathed, a reminder of vulnerabilities she couldn't afford to reveal. Yet there it was, burning bright for him to see-a weakness laid bare.