All Novel Sweet
I am beginning to think you don’t even know who the father of your baby is
Xavier’s pulse throbbed in his ears as he eased the bedroom door shut behind him, careful not to let the latch click. Cathleen’s measured breathing filled the space he’d left, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of undisturbed slumber. He hesitated, casting a shadow against the dim moonlight seeping through the curtains, before turning away.
His footsteps were ghosts on the plush carpet of the hallway, silent vows to return before dawn. The drive was a blur, and his mind was a whirring machine of possibilities, each darker than the last. When Xavier pulled into the driveway of his father’s imposing estate, the sight of an unfamiliar car sparked a flare of alarm in his gut.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, parking with a screech of tires that broke the stillness of night. His exit from the vehicle was swift-a predator’s lunge toward uncertainty. It wasn’t fear that propelled him-it was the need for control, for dominance over whatever chaos awaited within the walls that had once been his sanctuary.
The front door gave way to his forceful push, and the interior’s silence was shattered by Finn’s voice, cutting through the tension like a serrated blade.
“Grandpa, I know I just came back from prison, but I can’t let Olivia stay homeless; she gave birth to an heir to this house.” Finn’s words were laden with misguided nobility, a plea wrapped in the cloak of family duty.
“Who gave you the right to mingle in my affairs?” Xavier’s voice was ice, the chill of it snaking through the room. Heads snapped toward him, eyes wide, uniformly startled. They hadn’t expected the master of the house to emerge from the shadows.
“I asked you a question, kid,” Xavier pressed, advancing on Finn with a predator’s grace. His presence loomed large, an unyielding force that demanded submission.
“Uncle, she gave birth to your son; we can’t let her be homeless,” Finn stammered, defiance wilting under the weight of Xavier’s glare.
“Miss Williams,” Xavier said, turning his attention to the woman who dared to disrupt the order of his world, his tone slicing through the air. “I thought I was clear to you when I told you I did not want you anywhere near my family, wasn’t I?”
Olivia stood her ground, though her eyes flickered with the knowledge that she faced a man who was no stranger to the darker cravings of power and possession. She knew that beneath the tailored suits and cold exterior lay a man whose dominance in the boardroom was matched only by his command in more intimate arenas-a man who wielded pleasure and pain with equal expertise.
“Xavier, please-” she began, but the crack of his name on her lips was enough to tighten his jaw further.
“Address me with respect, or don’t speak at all,” he cut her off, every syllable a lash that set the boundaries between them. Xavier Knight was many things, but lenient was not one of them. The game they played had rules and consequences-something Olivia Williams was about to learn the hard way.
Olivia’s voice, a steel blade wrapped in velvet, cut through the silence. “I can’t be homeless when my baby daddy lives a luxurious life.” She stared up at Xavier, unflinching and demanding. Her words hung heavy in the opulent room. “I understand you want your wife, but I was there before her, and you got me pregnant before her. I deserve something.”
Xavier loomed over her, a dark shadow eclipsing her defiance. “I deserve to be treated like a queen,” she insisted, but her plea cracked against the fortress of his indifference.
“The queen,” he sneered, his voice low and lethal, “can only be the woman I married.” Disgust curled around each word. “You were nothing but a fuckbuddy.” The accusation was sharp and meant to wound. “And that baby… are you sure he’s mine?”
A gasp rippled through the room. Old Mr. Knight, till now an observer, interjected with a tone that demanded attention. “Why haven’t you done a paternity test, Xavier?”
Their eyes locked, father and son battle unspoken between them. “I have,” Xavier confessed, his admission laced with reluctance. “A long time ago.” He pulled out his phone, a lifeline to another truth. “Caleb,” he commanded into the device. “Collect an envelope from Dr. West and bring it to my father’s house.”
As he ended the call, a woman emerged from the shadows, silent as a ghost. Her presence was a mystery, a whisper of secrets untold. Xavier’s eyes captured hers; he read the silent communication, and without a word, he followed her. A hush fell upon the onlookers, surprise etching their faces as they watched the mystery woman.
Silence clung to the walls of the grand foyer like a stubborn shroud. Finn’s gaze locked onto the retreating figure of his uncle, disappearing with the woman whose sudden appearance had shaken the room’s foundation.
“Grandpa, who is that woman?” Finn pivoted, seeking answers from the old man. His question cut through the tense air, desperate for clarity. Old Mr. Knight’s eyes were deep pools of withheld knowledge, and he offered no lifeline to Finn’s sinking curiosity.
“Let’s wait here for the DNA test,” the old man uttered, dismissing inquiries with a flicker of impatience.
Before Finn could press further, Caleb burst in, urgency etched on his face, clutching an envelope as if it held the world’s weight. He moved towards the old man, hesitating only for a heartbeat before surrendering the paper missive. A visible tremor ran down Caleb’s spine, but he bit back words that clawed at his tongue.
Old Mr. Knight’s fingers tore open the envelope, a singular motion unleashing quiet fury. The contents glanced over, and his expression darkened like storm clouds crowding out the sun. “Finn,” he commanded, his voice low and gravelly, “escort Miss Williams to her home.”
No questions were asked. No explanations were given. Finn complied, lifting Olivia’s child with practiced ease-his heart pounding, his mind racing. The drive was a silent battle, tension coiling within the car like a spring wound too tight.
“Olivia,” Finn’s voice sliced into the hush, “are you sure that baby is my uncle’s baby?” Skepticism laced each syllable, a challenge thrown bare.
Her response was a scoff, disbelief coloring her tone. “What type of question is that?”
Finn’s hands tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles blanching white. “What if it’s mine?” The words hung suspended, a provocation veiled in simplicity.
The scream tore from Olivia’s lips, raw and accusatory. “What do you mean, drop me out of this car?” Fury contorted her features, betrayal gleaming in her eyes.
Brakes screeched, the car halting with violence that matched the turmoil inside. “You fucking lied about that baby, didn’t you?” Finn spat out, venom dripping from every word.
Olivia’s exit was a tempest; baby clutched close as she hurled her defense into the night’s chill. “This is Xavier’s baby; how can it be yours? I will never be with a lesser man like you; the sooner you get that, the better. Got that?” Olivia says and goes on, “We only did it once, and I regret that night. I don’t like you. I have been sleeping with Xavier all my life; why would you suggest that the baby is yours after just a night?”
Disgust curled Finn’s lip, a sneer shadowing his face. Her words, tainted with desperation and deceit, struck him-a blow to any remnants of pity he might have harbored. With a coldness he hadn’t known he possessed, Finn watched her as she batted her eyelashes.Têxt belongs to NôvelDrama.Org.
Olivia’s eyes darted away, a guilty shimmer beneath the streetlamps. Finn’s laugh was cruel, like a razor sliding across the tension-filled air.
“I thought you had some brains,” he sneered, the shadows casting grotesque patterns on his face. “It’s no wonder my uncle never looked at you as wife material.”
She bristled the night’s chill nothing compared to the icy disdain in his voice. The baby stirred in her arms, oblivious to the storm brewing.
“I am beginning to think you don’t even know who the father of your baby is,” he continued, the words deliberate and cutting. “You chose my uncle because you thought he would welcome you with open arms since your baby is a boy. You got disappointed when you found out Cathleen was also pregnant, didn’t you? Now you want to use the baby to get what you want.”
His laughter was a bitter symphony, echoing off the desolate street. Olivia’s face twisted with anger, the grip on her child tightening.
“My uncle is one motherfucker who will never bend to anyone, even if it’s a child,” Finn declared, his contempt palpable. “That man has no heart. Maybe ask yourself why he doesn’t want you anywhere closer to him. He probably knows the baby isn’t his.”
Defiance surged in Olivia’s chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spat out. “I did a paternity test, and Xavier is the father.”
“Did a paternity test, huh?” Finn’s question was like a scalpel, slicing through her facade. His eyes, dark and unforgiving, bore into hers. “Which means from the start you weren’t sure if my uncle was the father?”
The accusation hung between them, an unspoken verdict. Olivia’s breath caught, her composure shattering like fragile glass under scrutiny.
Hailing a taxi with a shaky hand, she escaped into its yellow refuge. As the vehicle sped off into the night, the taillights bled red into the darkness-her only answer to Finn’s damning question.