Chapter 2 Your Husband

Not a single message came from Robert after the day they got married.

A whole year slipped by in silence.

Kaitlin threw herself into her teaching job in a senior high school and, thanks to her hard work, recently landed a promotion to lead the senior class.

It should have been a moment worth celebrating, but before she had the chance to enjoy it, two students in her class suddenly broke into a fight, throwing the entire room into chaos.

Inside the faculty office, Kaitlin faced two girls with bruised cheeks and stubborn attitudes. She pressed her fingers to her forehead, trying to keep her patience. "Let's hear it-what started this fight?"

Cathryn Murphy barely bothered to hide her attitude. "Why bother asking? My dad's a major investor in this school. She hit me, so you have to kick her out. End of story."

Everyone in Qaumond knew the Murphys were big in real estate and had influence everywhere.

The principal chimed in, clearly not wanting to cross Cathryn's family, "We should probably go along with Cathryn's suggestion and expel the other one."

Turning her attention to Khloe Phillips, Kaitlin couldn't help but feel sorry for her.

She didn't know much about Khloe's family, just that her older brother spent most of his time overseas. It seemed like Khloe barely had anyone looking out for her.

Kaitlin shook her head. "I'm going to get to the bottom of what really happened before I make any decisions."

The principal seemed relieved to pass the burden along. Once he heard her words, he wasted no time handing the matter over. "You're right about that. I'll let you handle this. There are other things I need to deal with, so I'll be on my way."

With that, he walked off in a rush.

Once the principal was gone, Cathryn sprawled across the couch with a smug air, her arms folded over her chest.

She fixed Kaitlin with a sharp, defiant glare, her tone dripping with disdain. "Do you even know who my dad is? How dare you, just a lowly teacher, think you can cross me? Are you looking for trouble?"

Kaitlin stayed composed and looked directly at her student. "I don't care who your father is. What matters to me is that you're my student, and it's my job to teach and guide you."

The words left Cathryn stunned. Then, with her face twisted in anger, she shot up from her seat. "Fine! Just wait and see!"

She stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind her.

Khloe remained seated, her eyes following her teacher. Admiration welled up inside her, and a thought crossed her mind.

If only her brother hadn't married before leaving the country. Having someone like Kaitlin as a sister-in-law would have been perfect.

Her train of thought was interrupted by Kaitlin's calm voice. "You're in no shape to sit through class right now. I'll call your family to pick you up."

Snapping out of her daze, Khloe quickly recited a phone number.

Kaitlin placed the call, and on the other end, a rich, commanding voice came through. "Who's speaking?"

Something about the tone nagged at her. It was familiar, though she couldn't quite place it.

She spoke politely. "Hello, I'm Khloe Phillips' teacher. Could you come to the school and take her home?"

Half an hour later, a sleek Maybach rolled to a stop at the school gates.

Khloe gave her teacher a small smile. "Ms. Watson, my family's here."

Kaitlin returned the smile warmly. "Alright, head home and get some rest."

"Alright." Khloe gave a small nod.

Kaitlin was about to head back toward the building when a window of the car slid down and the man behind the wheel leaned slightly forward, his expression calm and refined. "Thank you, miss."

The sight of him made Kaitlin pause. His face looked strangely familiar, though she couldn't place where she might have seen him before.

It took her a moment before she found her voice. "You're welcome. I was just doing my job as her teacher."

Dominic Phillips' dark gaze lingered on her for a beat, unreadable, before he gave a polite nod and pulled away in the sleek Maybach.

Kaitlin stood there, watching the car shrink into the distance, a faint sense of confusion clouding her mind.

Maybe she was mistaken.

Someone like her had no reason to cross paths with a man who drove a Maybach.

She pushed the thought aside and walked back toward the school.

By the time the day ended, her phone buzzed with a new message: "I want to send you something. Can you give me an address?"

The number wasn't saved in her contacts.

She stared at the screen for a while before responding, "Who is this?"

The reply came almost instantly. "Your husband."