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Trust me
Olivia’s world spun on its axis as her gaze fixed on Cathleen’s silhouette perched at the top of the grand staircase, her hand resting gently on the curve of her belly. Confusion laced with a bitter sting of betrayal wracked Olivia’s body, her heart slamming against her ribcage like a caged animal desperate for release. “You… you made her pregnant… how is that even possible? Where do I stand, Xavier?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper, yet the hurt in it echoed loudly in the sprawling foyer.
“Where were you standing before?” Xavier’s response was as cold and hard as the marble floors beneath their feet, his tone a razor-sharp edge slicing through the tension hanging in the air.
Xavier’s steely gaze cut across the distance to where Cathleen stood, statuesque and silent. The redness around her eyes betrayed her stoic facade-a raw, visceral testament to her turmoil since the revelation of Olivia’s pregnancy. A night had passed without a word between them-not even the customary greetings that would typically grace their mornings. It was as though the very foundation of their home had fractured under the weight of unspeakable truths.
“Miss Williams,” Xavier began, his words deliberate, each syllable heavy with finality. “I’m sorry, but whatever plan you have for me, or this house, has to end.” He stepped forward, closing the gap between him and Olivia, his presence dominating the space. “You may be pregnant, but that does not mean you will come to my house and disrespect me and my wife.”
The sharp inhale from Olivia punctuated the silence that followed, her disbelief palpable as she clutched at the fabric of her designer dress, seeking some form of reassurance.
“I was clear when I ended things with you,” he continued, his eyes never straying from hers, trapping her in his unwavering gaze. “If maybe you didn’t understand it since I wasn’t verbal about it, well, let me make it clear.” Xavier’s jaw clenched, each word laced with venom. “I love my wife, and I will never leave my wife for you. Whatever arrangement we had, it is over and done.”
The command in his voice left no room for negotiation, no glimmer of hope for the future Olivia had envisioned-a future where she reigned beside Xavier, not in the shadows of his marital bed.
“So, I want you out of my house right now.” His decree reverberated through the opulent halls, sealing her fate with the authority of a king banishing his concubine from his kingdom.
A gasp escaped Olivia’s lips, her mask of composure crumbling as the reality of his words struck her full force. Gone was the smug confidence of a woman who thought she held sway over a man’s heart; in its place, a visceral panic clawed at her insides, threatening to spill over.
Xavier stood immovable, a dark sentinel against the plush backdrop of his wealth and power, his decision etched in stone. There would be no mercy, no reprieve. It was a game of chess, and Olivia found herself a pawn sacrificed in a move she never saw coming.
“You were sleeping with me while you slept with her. If not, why is she pregnant?” Her voice quivered theatrically, her eyes shimmering with faux sorrow. Xavier’s gaze hardened like tempered steel as Olivia’s performance unfolded, her tears becoming a calculated weapon she wielded with the precision of an actress on the brink of an Oscar.
“You cheated on me!” The words sliced through the air-a desperate plea for sympathy, for vindication.
His laughter was cold, devoid of any trace of warmth. “I’m not sure what you mean, but Miss Williams, it’s the other way around. I was cheating on my wife with you.” Xavier’s retort was quick, his tone laced with scorn.
The color drained from Olivia’s face, her facade faltering under the weight of his blunt confession. “Now you want to throw me out of the house because I am not your wife? I am pregnant, Xavier, with your heir!” Her voice cracked, a crescendo of despair as she clutched her stomach, the theater of her agony peaking.
“Your crocodile tears don’t scare me,” he sneered, stepping closer until he loomed over her, an unyielding force. “I booked a place for you to stay for a reason, and you felt it was okay to come to my house. Am I even sure that baby is mine?” His eyes narrowed, the question hanging between them like a guillotine poised to drop.
“Wait, you can actually stay.” Xavier’s smirk was a twist of malice, a predator toying with its prey. “A doctor will be coming to attend to you while you stay here, Olivia.” His voice dropped an octave, a dark promise implicit in his words. “But if you so much as fucking talk to my wife as though you are taking a shit, I will throw you out of my house. Get that?”
Olivia recoiled, her sobs hitching in her throat as vulnerability flickered across her features. Xavier’s attention snapped upwards; his wife stood at the top of the staircase, her posture rigid, eyes glistening with unshed tears that spoke volumes of the pain etched into her soul.
“Cat, babe, please let me…” His voice trailed off, the desperation clear despite his authoritative exterior. But Cathleen turned away, her silence a deafening rebuke that echoed louder than any confrontation.
With a sharp pivot on his heel, Xavier fixed Olivia with a commanding glare and pointed an accusing finger toward the hallway. His words cut through the air like a knife, leaving no room for argument. “Use the guestroom. You are a guest in this house.” The final word was like a lash, slicing through any remaining sense of intimacy between them. Olivia felt stripped bare, exposed to the harsh reality that their relationship was nothing more than a facade.
As Xavier ascended the stairs, two at a time, his heart hammered against his chest-a cacophony of regret, anger, and a twisted sense of duty that bound him to the wreckage of his choices. His pulse pounded in his ears as he surged up the stairs, a storm of emotions whirling within him. The mahogany door to their room flew open under his urgent push, revealing the emptiness of the room they shared. No Cathleen. His chest tightened, a mix of frustration and concern scoring his rugged features.
The sound of running water cut through the silence, leading him to the bathroom. Like a beacon, it called out to him, confirming his fears. She was hiding her pain behind the curtain of falling water. Stepping over her discarded clothing, Xavier’s heart ached at the sight before him. Cathleen, his formidable wife, sat curled up on the shower floor, her body wracked with sobs that shook her frame.
“Damn it, Cat,” he muttered, his voice barely audible above the drumming water. Without hesitation, Xavier stepped into the shower fully clothed, the water instantly soaking through his shirt, plastering it to his skin. He wrapped his arms around her, the dominance he wielded so effortlessly elsewhere, now replaced by a raw vulnerability as he held her trembling form against him.
“I’m sorry, Cat,” he whispered fiercely, his lips close to her ear. “Olivia’s lies won’t stand between us.” His words were a vow, spoken with a conviction that belied the chaos Olivia had brought into their lives. “She’s here, but she’s nothing. We’ll expose her deceit. I want you, Cat; I want you more than anything, and I’m sorry I didn’t talk to you first before I let her stay. I’m sorry”
Cathleen’s cries didn’t cease; they poured out unrestrained, a torrent as fierce as the water cascading over them. He felt her tears mingle with the spray, each drop leaving a scalding mark of the turmoil within her. Xavier tightened his grip, his wet clothes a cold embrace around both of them, an incongruous shield in a battle where the enemy was already inside their walls.
“Trust me,” he urged, his tone gravelly with desperation. “I’ll fix this mess. I swear on everything I am.” But even as he spoke, doubt gnawed at him. The web of lies was thickening, and he was caught in its strands just as much as Cathleen.
“I want to watch her,” he continued a strategic whisper against the clamor of her sobs. “Keep your enemies closer, right?” It was a play straight out of her own legal handbook, yet today, logic seemed a feeble weapon against the raw emotion that gripped her.
“Please, Cat… you’ve got to believe me.” The plea was stark, stripped of any pretense of control. Xavier Knight, who commanded boardrooms and bent wills, stood drenched and shaken, grappling with the reckoning of his own mistakes.NôvelDrama.Org owns © this.