James flicked through the grainy footage, his fingers poised over the keyboard like a pianist ready to strike. "Check this out," he said, his voice low and laden with urgency. The screen displayed a timestamp frozen at 8:38 PM.
Cathleen leaned forward, her eyes narrowing as she observed the woman in the video. "That's Anastasia. And that's not Xavier." Her lips twisted into a grim line, the revelation igniting a spark of vindication within her. "She lied."
"Exactly," James replied, his tone matching the gravity of the situation. He clicked play, and the footage resumed, showing Anastasia entering the hotel lobby without Mr. Knight in tow.
"Where the hell is Xavier then?" Cathleen muttered more to herself than to James. It was a puzzle, each piece meticulously falling into place, but with gaps still yawning between truth and deceit.
"Wait for it..." James paused the footage once more, bringing up another clip. "Mr. Knight leaving his office at 10:51 PM." He turned to face her, his expression grim. "But after that, nothing. The rest of the night is a blank canvas."
"Conveniently erased," Cathleen spat out, her mind racing. The missing hours screamed of manipulation-someone pulling the strings from the shadows.
"Too convenient," James agreed, his brow furrowed. "Someone's playing a dangerous game here."
"Or covering their own ass," Cathleen added acidly. She stood abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor. Every muscle in her body tensed, her instincts screaming that this was more than just a simple case of sabotage.
"Either way," James said, locking eyes with her, "we're about to stir up a hornet's nest."
"Let them buzz," Cathleen replied, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. "I'm ready to slice through their bullshit."
Their gazes locked, two warriors before the storm, aware that the next steps would be treacherous. But Cathleen was no stranger to walking on the knife's edge; her every victory in court was a testament to her calculating mind and relentless spirit.
"Game on," she murmured, a predatory smile playing on her lips. She had never lost a case before, and she wasn't about to let Xavier Knight be the first.
Cathleen's fingers curled into a fist at her side, the evidence on the screen before her burning into her mind like a brand. "I hate him," she seethed, each word laced with venom. "But this... it reeks of a setup." She paused, her eyes narrowing as she plotted her next move. "Caleb will have the dashcam footage. I need to see where Xavier went that night."
Before James could interject, the door creaked open, and a familiar voice resonated through the tension in the room. "Good day, my beautiful daughter." Old Mr. Knight entered with his signature smile as if he were oblivious to the storm brewing within these walls.
Cathleen's heart sank. "Father!" Her call was both a greeting and a plea for the earth to swallow her whole. The old man's presence was the last thing she needed.
His gaze held a flicker of pride. "I'm glad you took his case," he declared, settling into a chair with the weight of years evident in his movements.
"Um-I, I didn't..." Cathleen stammered, retreating to her chair, feeling suddenly small under his scrutiny. "My colleague will be representing him."
The old man waved a dismissive hand. "It doesn't matter. I know he's in good hands." He turned to James, who stood awkwardly by the door. "James, if you don't mind, I would like to talk some sense into my daughter."
"Of course, Mr. Knight," James said, nodding, before slipping out, leaving them alone in the charged silence.
"You look good," the old man remarked casually, but his eyes betrayed a keen insight as they studied her.
"Father, I-I..." Words failed her, her emotions swelling up until they burst forth in a torrent of tears.
Old Mr. Knight's expression softened, just a fraction, as he watched her unravel. "I understand your emotions are everywhere, but this," he began, his voice firm and unforgiving, "I can't say I am proud, Cathleen. You've taken this hatred for your husband too far."
Her sobs cut through the air, raw and unfiltered, her facade of strength crumbling. He had seen right through her, as he always did, the turmoil within. And as the old man's words sliced into her, she knew that this battle would leave scars on them both.
Cathleen's chest heaved with ragged breaths, and her eyes were red-rimmed and burning. Fury marked every line of her body as she faced the patriarch of the Knight family, a man who had once been her anchor.
"That man," she spat out, her voice trembling with rage, "was always sleeping with Olivia right under my nose. He didn't care he was married."
The old man shifted in his chair, the worn leather creaking under his weight. His gaze, sharp as ever, pierced through her defenses. "And now you want to divorce him?" he prodded, his tone laced with a mix of disappointment and curiosity.
"I don't want him in my life," she declared each word a knife-edge of resolve.
He scoffed a harsh sound that echoed off the stark office walls. "My son might be a lot of things," he said, standing up slowly, leaning heavily on his cane, "but right now, this,"-he paused, his voice lowering to a growl-"he will make sure you pay dearly, Cathleen."
A cold shiver ran down her spine. She knew the threat wasn't an idle one; Xavier was vindictive, a master at playing twisted games that left scars.
"I love you so much, but I don't think even I can save you from his fury." The old man's words were a chilling caress, a warning wrapped in concern. "I don't know what he will do to you, but let's just hope it won't be the worst."
With those ominous words, Old Mr. Knight turned, his silhouette casting a long shadow across the room as he walked away. The slow tap of his cane on the hardwood floor punctuated the growing dread in Cathleen's gut.
Left alone, Cathleen slumped back in her chair, her mind racing. The silence of the office was suffocating, wrapping around her like a vice. The world outside the window continued on, oblivious to the storm brewing within these four walls-a tempest she wasn't sure she could weather.