Classic Novel
The Slut
The early morning sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows, casting a warm glow over Cathleen as she bustled about preparing old Mr. Knight’s favorite breakfast. The tantalizing scents of sizzling bacon, buttery pancakes, and freshly brewed coffee wafted through the air, creating a mouth-watering aroma that filled the room.This belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - ©.
The maids watched in awe and admiration as Cathleen expertly flipped the pancakes and arranged them on a platter with precision. Some even dared to ask for her secret recipes, amazed by the delicious smells and flavors that filled their senses. Memories of cooking for Finn flooded back to Cathleen, but she pushed them aside and focused on creating the perfect breakfast for Mr. Knight. She wanted to make this meal special for him, just like she used to before Finn betrayed her.
Drawn to the enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen, Xavier left the warmth of his room and descended the stairs. As he turned the corner, his eyes widened in amazement at the sight before him. The woman standing at the stovetop was a picture of focused determination, her hands deftly moving about as she worked her magic on the ingredients before her. Even without saying a word, it was clear that she was not one to be trifled with; her icy demeanor radiated strength and confidence. Lost in admiration for his beautiful wife, Xavier barely noticed when Olivia joined him at his side. Her tousled hair gave away the restless night she had spent tossing and turning, but her presence next to him brought a sense of calmness and contentment.
Xavier’s eyes flicked in her direction before he strode over to the kitchen table, his steps purposeful and confident. Cathleen, the hostess of the gathering, gracefully requested assistance from the helpers in setting the table. Once everything was prepared, she settled onto the couch with a regal air. Xavier greeted her with a warm smile as he sipped his coffee, but Olivia, who had not received a greeting from him, felt a twinge of discomfort at being ignored. Determined to make her presence known and acknowledged, she cleared her throat and shifted in her seat.
Olivia gracefully rose from the table, her loose curls falling gently over her shoulders as she made her way to the fridge. She couldn’t resist the urge for a refreshing glass of orange juice on this warm summer day. As she walked past Cathleen, her mind raced with curiosity about the nature of her and Xavier’s relationship. Should she just keep walking or pause and make conversation? In the end, she took a few steps before halting abruptly and turning around to face Cathleen. Exposing her long, toned thighs that flashed in the sunlight streaming through the windows as she spoke
“Oh, hi, I’m Olivia; you must be Cathleen, the wife.” The woman’s words were laced with a mocking tone, and she smirked as she smoothed out her disheveled hair. Her little red dress clung to her body, the fabric practically screaming, “Fuck me.” Cathleen couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the woman’s obvious attempts to grab her attention. She took a slow sip of her tea, savoring its warmth, before allowing her gaze to wander over to her supposed husband. But the man remained silent, his eyes avoiding hers. Setting down her cup on the delicate coffee table, Cathleen finally spoke up, unperturbed by the blatant attempt at seduction before her.
“Nice to meet you, Olivia, the slut.” Olivia’s eyes widened in disbelief as she watched the lady in front of her. Her mouth dropped open, but before she could say anything, Xavier’s reaction caught her attention. He sputtered and coughed, nearly choking on his coffee at the shock of it all. Just as things seemed to settle down, the doorbell rang, interrupting any further conversation. Cathleen stood up from her seat and began to walk past Xavier, but she suddenly froze in her tracks. A look of determination crossed her face as she turned to face them, her lips parted as if about to speak. The air was thick with tension and expectation as they waited for her next words.
“Mr. Knight, please control your pet. I won’t hesitate to send her packing with words. I hate shades.”
Xavier wanted to answer, but then he realized that his father was waiting at the door, and if he angered Cathleen, she might show his father that she had just moved in the night before. He wanted Cathleen to be on her best behavior, and angering her wasn’t the right thing to do at that point.
“Go answer the door; I’ll deal with you later.” The man’s words dripped with a cold, icy tone, sending shivers down her spine and causing her heart to sink. The way he spoke made it clear that the conversation would not be pleasant. His voice was like a sharp dagger, cutting through the air and leaving a trail of frost in its wake. She braced herself for the impending confrontation, knowing it would not end well.
Cathleen opened the door and was greeted by old Mr. Knight and his grandson, Finn. “I have your favorite.” Finn’s voice was filled with a mixture of nervousness and excitement as he held out a carefully arranged bouquet of vibrant tulips to Cathleen. The soft petals glowed in the sunlight that streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on their faces. Each flower carried its own meaning, a silent declaration of Finn’s feelings for her. As she reached out to take the bouquet, Cathleen couldn’t help but feel her heart flutter at the gesture. With each tender stem, Finn was saying everything he couldn’t put into words.
With a gentle yet determined hand, Cathleen plucked the flowers from Finn’s grasp and tossed them unceremoniously into the nearby trash can. A flicker of surprise crossed Finn’s face as he watched his offering be rejected so nonchalantly. “I’m sorry,” Cathleen began in her soft voice, “but I much prefer tansies and orange lilies.”
Everyone around was taken aback by her unexpected statement, their expressions shifting from confusion to disbelief. It wasn’t just that she preferred different flowers, but the significance of the ones she mentioned struck a nerve. Tansies were often associated with hatred and disdain, while orange lilies represented pride and arrogance. Xavier couldn’t help but wonder if Cathleen had a heart at all, or if it too had been tainted by these negative connotations.