The Billionaire’s Bride: Our Vows Do Not Matter

Cathleen’s fingers traced the rim of her porcelain cup, a delicate dance of apprehension and resolve. Around her, the restaurant hummed with the quiet cadence of morning routines, yet within her chest, a storm brewed more bitter than the dark roast she reluctantly sipped.

“Did you know?” Her words cut through the murmurs, eyes fixated on the man across from her.Content © copyrighted by NôvelDrama.Org.

Her father, William, met her gaze with a wearied resignation that belied his stoic front. The air thickened between them, laden with the weight of unspoken truths and the sharp tang of betrayal.

“Did you know I wouldn’t be marrying Finn that day, but his uncle?” The question hung in the air, accusatory and demanding. Her voice was steel-wrapped in velvet, as authoritative as any closing argument she’d delivered in the courtroom.

William’s nod was almost imperceptible, but to Cathleen, it roared like thunder. “Mr. Knight called me before the wedding,” he began, his voice steady despite the tremor Cathleen detected-a lawyer’s daughter, attuned to the slightest inflection of guilt. “Told me there was a little change.”

The word ‘change’ sat between them, mocking a chasm that spanned far beyond the mere switch of a groom. It was a testament to the manipulations that had ensnared their lives.

“And the change was that Finn ran away to go and find Avery-so you would marry his youngest son.” There was no evasion in his confession, no attempt to soften the blow. The truth, raw and unadorned, spilled from William Jackson’s lips.

Cathleen’s grasp tightened around her cup, its warmth a stark contrast to the chill that settled in her bones. Xavier Knight-cold, ruthless, dominant-was now her husband, a man who lived shrouded in shadows, his disdain for love as palpable as the ring on her finger. A marriage that was born not of passion or tenderness but of strategic retreats and familial chess moves.

A clatter of dishes in the distance echoed like a gavel, punctuating the silence that followed. The taste of coffee lingered, acrid on her tongue, a metaphorical brew for the life she had been served-a life steeped in duplicity, where affection was a pawn and fidelity a forfeited king.

“Everything… was a lie then,” she stated, not a question but a verdict, her sharp tongue slicing through the façade of familial bonds. Love, hate, loyalty-all reduced to mere casualties in a war where hearts were collateral damage.

William’s fists clenched on the mahogany desk, his knuckles whitening-a physical echo of the strain in his voice. “No,” he answered with a gravity that belied his usual calm demeanor. “Everything isn’t a lie.” His eyes, usually so warm and understanding, bore into Cathleen with an intensity she rarely saw. “It broke me to let you marry Finn,” he continued his voice a low rumble of confession. “I wanted the alliance so bad because financially we were going down the drain and I couldn’t tell anyone.”

Cathleen stood across from him, her posture rigid and every line of her body screaming defiance. The air between them crackled with the unspoken truths finally surfacing. Her heart hammered against her chest, each beat a reminder of her entrapment.

“When I was told Avery ran away, somehow I knew it was all a scheme.” William’s gaze drifted, lost for a moment in the deceit that had cocooned their family. “And I knew Mr. Knight wouldn’t let you marry Finn,” he said, dragging his gaze back to Cathleen. “And I also knew Finn was blinded by the intimacy they’ve been sharing with Avery.” His tone took on a bitter edge. “I knew he wouldn’t go on with the wedding.”

“Like me,” he added, his voice softening. “Mr. Knight wanted the merger, but he wanted the best for you.”

“Best for me?” Cathleen’s laugh was sharp and jagged, like a shard of glass. She crossed her arms defensively as if to ward off the very idea. “I am married to a man who changes women like underwear,” she spat out, her voice laced with venom. “He brings women to our home”-her voice broke, then hardened-“and I have to sit and watch because apparently he thinks I’m a prostitute and wants his family’s money!”

The words hung heavy, charged with accusation and resentment. William’s eyes went wide, the shock registering on his face before his features quickly receded into the stern mask of a patriarch protecting his empire. But there was something else in his expression-fear, perhaps, or regret for the world he had thrust his daughter into.

For a long moment, they stood in silence, the revelations hanging between them like a chandelier teetering dangerously close to shattering. The air seemed to grow thick with tension, history, and the weight of a future neither could escape.

William’s gaze held a weight of unspoken truths, and Cathleen could feel the gravity of his words before they even left his lips. “Cathy,” he began, his voice low and tinged with concern, “I think Xavier is as confused as you are.”

In an instant, her mind turned against her, hurling her back to the days of weakness and pain during her recovery. She was trapped in the wheelchair, with Xavier by her side, his touch unexpectedly tender but also dangerously close. They teetered on the edge of something forbidden, their breaths mingling in a dance of temptation that wound tighter around them. But it was all just Xavier’s game, wasn’t it? The charming player reveled in seducing vulnerable women. With a hardening glare, she pushed the memory away and faced her father, steeling herself for the confrontation ahead.

“You made me marry a man who hates me.” Cathleen’s accusation sliced through the tension, her voice cracking despite her resolve. Tears betrayed her, tracing hot paths down her cheeks. “A man who thinks I’m sleeping with his father because-” She choked on the words, “-because his father likes me, as a daughter.”

William reached for her then, his arms wrapping around her in a protective embrace, but she could barely feel the comfort it was meant to offer. Her heart was too full of the image of Xavier, cold and distant, seeing her as nothing more than an obstacle to his desires for Olivia.

“I have to suck it all in,” she murmured into William’s shirt, the fabric absorbing her anguish. “He had a girlfriend before me, and now… now I’m this huge wall between him and his true love.”

“Xavier isn’t who he pretends to be.” William’s voice was firm and insistent. “Give him time. He’s a good boy.”

Cathleen scoffed, pulling away to look at her father with a mix of anger and disbelief. How could he defend him?

“And Cathy,” William continued, locking eyes with her and delivering the coup de grâce, “he isn’t the boy from the farm or a cousin they say he is. He is a Knight by blood, and he’s the real owner of Knight Group International.”

That revelation hit her like a physical blow, her eyes going wide with shock. All this time, the man she had been taught to despise, the man she believed she understood, was cloaked in a deception far beyond what she had imagined. In an instant, the foundations of her reality shifted, threatening to crumble beneath her.