The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

Their shared bedroom was bathed in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun, filtering through the half-closed curtains. He sat across from Cathleen. Every crease in his brow was marked by the years he’d spent avoiding the spotlight that now seemed to scrutinize his family unforgivingly. Silence hung heavy, charged with the unspoken, before Xavier walked to the leather seat chair, settled next to the window, and sat. He leaned back in his chair, the leather groaning under the shift of his weight. “What did your family say when you caught your sister and your fiance?” His voice was low as if he were afraid to stir the air too much around her fragile frame. She braced herself against the edge of the wheelchair, fingers white-knuckled, gripping onto the last shreds of composure. “That, since Finn had slept with Avery, I should let him go,” she said, her voice a razor’s edge, cutting through the stillness. Her eyes mirrored a storm cloud ready to burst, yet not a single tear fell. “Not that I wasn’t planning to let him go, but hearing them tell me to my face was a punch in the gut.” Cathleen’s gaze lifted, defiance flaring despite the pain. “They didn’t even ask Avery why she slept with him; instead, the blame was shifted to me.” The injustice of it lashed out like a whip, stinging the air between them. Xavier’s fists clenched at his sides, the desire to comfort warring with the fury heating his blood. She was steel-wrapped in silk, her sharp tongue now blunted by the betrayal she tasted. “I was never enough for my family,” she continued, the words laced with bitterness and years of being overshadowed. “Avery always had her way with anything, even at the expense of my pain. No one cared about me; everyone cared about Avery, the golden child.” The room seemed to contract around them, the walls inching closer, suffocating in their secrets and lies. Xavier’s cold, hard facade cracked just enough to let a sliver of empathy shine through. Silence once again claimed the space, a silent witness to the unyielding tension that held them both hostage. At that moment, it was not just Cathleen who felt betrayed. It was an echo of Xavier’s own past-family ties bound not with love but with expectations and disappointment. He knew all too well the sting of being second best, though his battlefield had been boardrooms, not familial affections. “Family,” Xavier muttered, the word like ash on his tongue. “Sometimes it’s the ones closest to us that wield the sharpest knives.” Xavier rose, the chair’s protest lost to the tension wrapping the air. His tall frame unfolded, a shadow looming as he approached Cathleen. The distance between them closed; each step was measured, deliberately. He crouched before her, a giant humbled, his hands finding purchase on the cold metal armrests of her wheelchair. Steel blue eyes, always so guarded, now pierced hers with startling intensity. “You are my family now,” he declared, his voice a low rumble. It wasn’t tenderness that colored his words, but a promise as binding as chains. “Even if this marriage is just a marriage by name, I will help you get revenge.” His declaration hung heavy, a cloak of solidarity against the chill of her isolation. Cathleen, with her courtroom battles and unblemished record, was not easily moved. But Xavier-this enigmatic force of nature-had a way of slipping past her defenses. She remained motionless, yet her heart betrayed her, thrumming like a trapped bird against ribs too tight. For the first time since they had exchanged cold vows, Xavier’s hand, surprisingly warm, brushed against her cheek. The touch was an anomaly, a crack in his armor of indifference. It was tender and caring-a stark contrast to the ruthless demeanor he showcased to the world. A flame licked at the edges of her composure, threatening to consume her resolve. “Stay married to me for one more year,” he continued his voice a whisper that wielded the weight of a hammer. “Instead of the two years we signed for, I will make sure Finn boils every day of his life.” His vow was a weapon, honed and ready. It was not love that bound them, but a shared hunger for retribution-a dance with demons clad in the guise of matrimony. In Xavier’s steady gaze, Cathleen saw the reflection of her own fury-her desire to see Finn, the lover turned traitor, suffer the torment of a thousand cuts. Silence stretched between them, a tightrope upon which their fates balanced precariously. In the quiet, Cathleen heard the echo of her own pulse, the sound of reckoning approaching with the inevitability of a storm on the horizon.

“All I want from you in exchange for this is that you stay married to me because my father seems to like you very much. I don’t know why, but when you are around, he seems happy,” he said, his voice flat, almost indifferent.© NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

Cathleen sat in her wheelchair motionless, her mind racing. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension. How could this cold, enigmatic man help her avenge Finn’s betrayal? She was a fortress in court; no case had ever breached her walls. But Xavier-his world was a mystery. She eyed him, trying to decipher the man who shunned the spotlight yet wielded power like a hidden blade. He wasn’t from the farm; he never had dirt under his nails. He was old Mr. Knight’s youngest son, yet an enigma wrapped in tailored suits.

“Your proposal is lacking in details, Xavier,” she countered. Her tone was as sharp as broken glass, betraying none of the turmoil swirling within her. “What business has filled your coffers more than anyone else in your family?” Xavier’s gaze didn’t waver, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of secrets. “What I do is not your concern. My resources are at your disposal, should you agree. That is all you need to know.” Cathleen’s fists clenched at her sides. No amount of money could salve the wound Finn had left. Yet here stood Xavier, offering his empire’s might for a simple facade of matrimony. A marriage of convenience to the uncle of the man who wronged her. The irony tasted bitter on her tongue. “Your father is wise, perhaps too good at seeing what others miss,” she said, thinking of old Mr. Knight’s fondness for her. “But even he doesn’t know everything about his sons, does he?” “Perhaps not,” Xavier admitted, and something in his admission, a hint of vulnerability, made her pause. “But he knows enough to recognize value. And he sees that in you, Cathleen, and that doesn’t mean I do.” “Value,” she repeated, the word hollow. Betrayal by Finn had stripped her of the illusion of love, leaving her with a cold resolve. Now, Xavier offered her a chance to strike back, disguised as his wife. “Consider it, Cathleen,” Xavier urged, his voice a low rumble of persuasion. “Together, we can ensure that those who have wronged us will not forget the price of their actions.” The silence that followed was heavy, laden with the weight of decisions yet to be made and the shadow of treachery that lingered in every corner of the Knight family saga.