Avery's fingers slid off the fabric of Xavier's jacket, leaving behind a trail of insolence. She smirked, her eyes flicking towards Cathleen, searching for a crack in her composed façade.
"Nothing, actually," Avery drawled. "It's just that some people might think otherwise."
Xavier's body tensed, his lips pressed into a thin line. The audacity of the woman in front of him rendered him completely speechless. A weighty whisper settled, a palpable presence enveloping them both.
Cathleen crossed her legs, every inch the picture of seduction. Her voice dripped honey and venom. "I'm sure it's nothing, um, sir," she purred. "I brought lunch; wanna eat?"
The sharp words, filled with hidden meanings, cut through the thick air like a knife. Avery's jaw tensed, the rejection hitting her hard. With an annoyed huff, she turned abruptly on her heel, storming out ungracefully yet defiantly.
The apartment door slammed, rattling in its frame as Avery unleashed her fury. "Can you imagine that witch?" she spat, throwing her handbag onto the couch with reckless abandon.
Dora, seated and seemingly absorbed in her own world, didn't flinch. The TV remote clacked against the coffee table as she finally looked up, meeting her daughter's blazing eyes.
"I believe I'm not talking to myself, Mother!" Avery seethed.
Dora's gaze was steel-wrapped in silk. "I thought I told you to leave Cathleen and her husband alone," she said, her voice a warning. "It's not good for you to be chasing that man."
Avery's laughter was sharp and bitter. "Well, you stopped at nothing to win Dad's heart, and I will do the same," she hissed. Her next words came out as a venomous scream, "Even if it means shooting Cathleen!"
The air crackled with unsaid threats, the room a battleground for wills. Avery's chest heaved, her breaths coming fast and hard-each one a silent vow of war.
Back at Xavier's office was a cauldron of silence after the door clicked shut behind Avery. Cathleen's eyes, sharp as razors, fixed on him. "What was that all about?" she demanded.
"Nothing," Xavier replied coolly, his voice a smooth veneer over the tension.
"Looked like something to me," Cathleen prodded, her tone biting. "Why didn't you push her away? Send her ass flying?"
A smirk played on Xavier's lips, amused by her brusqueness. "Her ass did hit the floor," he said, the image flashing in his mind. "Put on quite the show before you came."
"Next time, pull her by the hair." Cathleen shot back, the words edged with steel. She rose, dominance in the curve of her spine, and planted a kiss on Xavier's lips-a claim-then pivoted on her heels and strode out, leaving him in the echo of her power.
Cathleen had a meeting that afternoon with Glow Girl. She decided to drive there after dropping off lunch at Xavier's office. The drive to the Glow Girl meeting was a blur for Cathleen. She walked in just as Olivia Williams, the archetypal ice queen, was holding court.
"Sorry I'm late; what did I miss?" Cathleen interjected, her arrival slicing through the room like a knife.
Olivia's voice pitched high, strained. "You can't be the face of Glow Girl. Your husband is one of the sponsors!" Olivia says, making sure her statement is firm and heard.
"Isn't that something?" Cathleen's retort cut through the air, sharp and swift. "You dated him and still held the title, didn't you, Ms. Williams?"
The conference room erupted in gasps, the air thick with scandal. Olivia's mouth snapped shut, words failing her.
"Mrs. Knight's relationship status has no bearing on her role," someone hurried to say, eager to smother the flames.
"Leave space for women with no children," Olivia spat, grasping at straws.
Cathleen's gaze turned icy, lethal. "Like yourself? Aren't you a mother too, except for the baby being taken away from you?" Her words were daggers, each one landing with precision.
"Care to continue this exchange, or shall we take it outside, Ms. Williams?" Cathleen challenged, her posture unyielding.
Color drained from Olivia's face, leaving her ashen, and hollow. Silence swallowed the room whole, every breath held, every eye locked on the two women standing on the precipice of war.
"Mrs. Knight," one of them had said, his voice a smooth balm meant to soothe the raw nerves exposed by the confrontation, "ever since she joined us, we gained over 2 million subscribers on all social media platforms. Thank you, Mrs. Knight. We'll be in touch."
Cathleen barely registered the murmurs of agreement that followed. Her lips twisted into a smirk, a silent scoff at the spectacle they'd witnessed. She threw a glance over her shoulder, her voice dripping with derision. "So this meeting was about Ms. Williams' whining? Not anything important?"
Chairs scraped back; heads swiveled; eyes followed her every step, but she reveled in their attention like a queen. Without waiting for an answer, she grasped the leather strap of her designer bag and made her exit. The door swung shut behind her with a decisive thud, leaving a wake of whispers and unease.
In the corridor outside, Olivia caught up to her, fingers clawing into the fabric of Cathleen's dress. "You feel like you're on top of the world because you're married to Xavier, don't you?" she hissed, each word laced with venom.
Cathleen turned slowly, her gaze slicing through Olivia like a blade. "Why wouldn't I?" she retorted, her voice cool as steel. She studied Olivia's flushed face and the desperate grip on her attire. "If you were married to him, wouldn't you feel the same, Ms. Williams?" The question was a taunt, the raised brow an invitation to spar.
Olivia's hand trembled, her nails digging crescents into the fine material. A tear broke free, carving a path down her cheek, betrayal in crystalline form. Cathleen leaned in close, her breath warm on Olivia's skin. "Ohhhh, you wish you were me, don't you?" she whispered, her words a sensual caress with an undertone of malice. "You might have fucked him once, twice, or countless times, but remember this-he is my husband."
With a flicker of her eyes, Cathleen dropped the final blow. "And I'm not going anywhere."
She stepped back, watching as Olivia stood there, gasping, her face a mask of shock and pain. Cathleen winked-a sharp, cruel gesture-and sashayed away, the click of her heels a punctuation mark to the scene that had just unfolded.
Olivia remained rooted to the spot, her grasp empty, her composure shattered. Like a fish out of water, she gasped for breath, the reality of Cathleen's words sinking in alongside the understanding that she had lost this battle before it even began.