The ornate, wrought-iron doors of the opulent Knight residence groaned their welcome as Cathleen swung her sleek car into the grand driveway. Despite the luxurious surroundings, every line of her body exuded reluctance and a sense of being trapped. With a decisive jab of her finger, she killed the engine, a symbolic gesture that could not mask her true intentions: she wasn't staying, not if she could help it. The sprawling mansion loomed before her, its imposing presence a constant reminder of Xavier's control over her. To Cathleen, it was nothing more than an ornate cage, beautiful on the outside but suffocating within its gilded walls.

"Damn sham," Cathleen muttered...