His Wife, His Enemy

ier's office. His eyes didn't leave Arabella not even as her face crumbled with guilt, not even as her hands trembled around the vacuum. But when the name on the caller ID flashe

with that, the call ended. Xavier stayed there for a few seconds longer, the wall behind his back holding him up as the weight of memory settled around him like ash. The echo of Arabella's voice from earlier clung to the inside of his mind. The girl with wide eyes and too much sincerity. She looked at him like she expected to be crushed. And that bothered him more than it should've. He exhaled sharply, collecting himself, before returning to the office with every bit of his usual controlled coldness. But when he pushed the door open again, it was empty. Only a faint trace of citrus cleaner lingered in the air. She was gone. Later That Evening - Hudson Estate, Westchester County** The big iron gate creaked as it closed behind Xavier's sleek black SUV, the sound swallowed by the vast, manicured estate that had once felt like home. He wasn't supposed to be here until Friday. But the phone call with his mother had left him rattled. And something deep in his chest told him this something was going to happen. The golden porch light was on when he pulled up, casting a warm halo over the ivy-wrapped columns. As he stepped out, the smell of lavender and firewood hit him-familiar, nostalgic. But instead of finding his mother at the door, he found someone else. "Xavier," said a thin man in a navy suit, standing in the entryway with a thick folder clutched under his arm. "Lucas?" Xavier frowned. "What the hell are you doing here?" Lucas Harrington, the family lawyer for over two decades, looked freshly arrived himself-coat still damp from the spring rain, spectacles sliding down his nose. "I didn't expect you tonight," Lucas said. "But... maybe it's time." Xavier glanced inside. The hallway lights were dim. His mother's favorite jazz record was playing faintly in the background. "Time for what?" Lucas gave him a weary look. "Come inside. You might want to sit." That sentence never led to anything good. Xavier stepped into guest meeting room, his eyes scanning for his mother. "She's in the kitchen ," Lucas said, already moving toward the study. Xavier followed, every step laced with a familiar dread. The study hadn't changed. Same mahogany shelves. Same scent of aged paper and sandalwood. Same oil portrait of his father above the fireplace, eyes forever watching. Lucas sat and gestured to the chair across from him. Xavier didn't move. "I'm standing." "Suit yourself." Lucas opened the folder and slid a packet across the table. "This is your father's final addition to the will. It wasn't legally binding until three years after his passing. That milestone... was last week." Xavier's fingers curled into fists. "You brought me here for a clause?" "A clause," Lucas said carefully, "that affects your ownership of Knight Enterprises." Xavier's eyes sharpened. "What?" Lucas hesitated. Then read aloud, "If, after three years of my passing, my eldest son Xavier Blackwood Knight is not married and has no legal heir, all Knight holdings-shares, assets, partnerships-will be severed from X Enterprises and transferred to Ethan Alexander Knight." The words dropped like a grenade. Xavier's jaw tensed, blood