**Chapter 8: A Hunger for More Than Just Power** Moore Mamet’s voice crackled through the phone, thick with a condescending disappointment that he didn’t bother to hide. He simply couldn't fathom how Xaviera Evans had transformed so drastically overnight. "This is exactly why you’ll never be anything more than a country bumpkin," Moore spat, his words dripping with venom. "It doesn't matter what Mag and the others do for you; you’re nothing but a wolf in sheep’s clothing, an outsider who doesn't know her place. People like you? You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as the Mamet family, let alone marry into it!" In that moment, Moore felt a wave of profound relief. He was practically patting himself on the back for refusing to marry Xaviera, even with the staggering sixty-five percent of company shares she brought to the table. To him, a wife like her wasn't an asset; she was a lead weight, a social disaster waiting to happen. "Unworthy of the Mamets?" Xaviera echoed, a small, humored sound escaping her throat. The irony was delicious. She leaned back, a sharp, knowing glint in her eyes as she remembered the reality Moore was blind to. She *had* married into the Mamet family. In fact, she had climbed straight to the top of the family tree. Her husband wasn't some distant cousin—he was Caleb Mamet, the undisputed head of the dynasty and Moore’s own uncle. "Whether I’m worthy or not… well, that’s not really your call to make, is it?" she said, her voice dropping to a silken, mysterious purr. She could already envision the look of pure, unadulterated shock on Moore’s face when they eventually crossed paths at the Mamet estate. Before he could bark another insult, Xaviera ended the call, leaving him to scream into the silence. *** The following morning, Xaviera woke to the sight of an unfamiliar, high-ceilinged bedroom. For a moment, she was disoriented until the weight of the previous day settled back onto her shoulders: she was a married woman. But where was the groom? Caleb hadn't appeared in the master bedroom all night. After she finished dressing, she stepped out onto the landing and saw the guest room door swing open. Caleb emerged, looking devastatingly handsome even in his casual gray loungewear. He was a pillar of quiet strength—broad-shouldered, tall, and carrying an aura of lazy indifference. His signature "cherry blossom" eyes were half-lidded, as if he hadn't quite finished waking up. Xaviera’s gaze was shameless, traveling from his tousled hair down to his feet, lingering perhaps a second too long on his hands. "You slept in the guest room? Why?" Caleb suppressed an eye-roll. *Why else? Because you were sprawled out in my bed,* he thought. "Are you shy?" Xaviera asked, a playful tilt to her head. Seeing his silence, she offered some 'expert' advice. "Honestly, Caleb, there’s no need for modesty. We have the certificate. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to share a bed. It’s only logical." Caleb stopped in his tracks, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face her. "You’re remarkably eager to share a bed with me, aren't you?" He hadn't forgotten the way she looked at him yesterday. She didn't look at him like a person; she looked at his fingers like they were a delicacy she wanted to devour. Between her rogue comments about kissing him and that fervent, hungry gaze, Caleb was beginning to suspect that his new wife wasn't interested in his money or his name—she was lusting after his body. "Well," Xaviera mused, staying silent for a beat as she weighed her options. "We don't *strictly* have to sleep together yet. But... you should at least let me kiss your fingers from time to time." Caleb’s suspicions were officially confirmed. This woman was a predator, and he was the prey. "If memory serves," Caleb said, his voice dropping into a dangerous, low register, "didn't you mention a divorce yesterday? You said once the shares were transferred, we’d go our separate ways. Wasn't that the plan?" He stepped closer, his towering frame casting a long shadow over her. He was two heads taller than her, and the sheer weight of his presence was meant to be oppressive, to remind her who he was. He had only agreed to this madness to satisfy his father’s whims and because Xaviera had seemed like she wanted a clinical, business-only arrangement. But now? Now she was looking at him like he was a snack. Xaviera felt the shift in the air. Usually, she held the reins, but Caleb was finally asserting his dominance. She felt a flicker of heat but quickly regained her composure. "I admit, divorce was the initial plan," she said, pulling out her phone and pulling up a document. "But there’s been a bit of a twist. Let’s put the divorce talk on the back burner for now." She showed him the screen—a share transfer contract she’d drafted in the middle of the night. "To make it worth your while, I’m giving you the Evans Group shares in advance." She paused, her eyes locking onto his. "And on top of that, I’ll promise you three favors. I can do things most people can't, Caleb. Those favors are worth more than the shares." Caleb stared at her, unimpressed. "And what, exactly, could I possibly need from a girl like you? Are you going to help me harvest crops in the countryside?" Xaviera shrugged, an enigmatic smile playing on her lips. "Life is long, Caleb. Anything is possible." Caleb raised a skeptical eyebrow, ready to deliver a cutting retort, when Xaviera’s phone erupted in a shrill ring. "Hold that thought," she said, stepping back to create some distance before answering. Caleb watched her retreat, a soft, dry chuckle escaping his lips. He found her audacity… almost refreshing. However, the voice on the other end of the line was anything but refreshing. It was Mr. Evans, and he sounded like he was on the verge of a stroke. "XAVIERA! Where the hell are you?!" he bellowed, his voice so loud Caleb could hear it from feet away. "The servants said you didn't come home! Did you spend the night with some random man? Have you no shame? You are a stain on this family’s reputation!" Xaviera held the phone away from her ear, her expression going cold and flat. Once the screaming subsided into heavy breathing, she replied with a chilling indifference. "Our family's reputation was ruined twenty years ago, Father—by you. And for the record, I told you yesterday: I got married." Caleb watched her, his gaze unreadable. He saw the ice in her eyes, a sharp contrast to the playful woman who had just been asking to kiss his hands. "If you called just to scream nonsense," Xaviera continued, "I’m hanging up." "Don't you dare!" Mr. Evans hissed through gritted teeth. "Don't think marriage is an escape hatch, Xaviera. You belong to this family. Be at the hospital before three o'clock this afternoon. We need to talk. And bring this... 'husband' of yours with you. Let's see what kind of trash you've picked up off the street."