Chapter 38 Chapter 38: Height of Humiliation
Catharine's P.O.V
I was shocked beyond words, completely frozen in place as Mr. Hawthorn's cruel statement echoed in my ears. The sheer audacity of this man left me breathless. He had just insulted me in the worst possible way, reduced me to nothing more than damaged goods, and now he stood there with that disgusting smirk on his face, acting like he had every right to do so.
But then the shock began to fade and something else took its place. Rage. Pure, white-hot rage that started in the pit of my stomach and spread through my entire body like wildfire.
It wasn't enough that most of New York's elite now saw me as some kind of damaged goods, and whispered about my inability to have children at parties and social gatherings. It wasn't enough that I had to endure the pitying looks and the barely concealed judgment every time I walked into a room.
But now this man, this vile excuse for a human being, had the audacity to come forward and suggest something so disgusting, so completely inappropriate, and even throw my infertility in my face like it was some kind of weapon he could use against me?
My hands balled into fists by my sides, my nails digging into my palms so hard I was sure they would leave marks. Anger was taking over logic, consuming every rational thought I had. I didn't care anymore about being polite, about maintaining appearances, about what anyone at this party would think.
All I could see was that stupid smile on Mr. Hawthorn's face, that smug expression that said he thought he could get away with this, that he thought I was too weak or too scared to fight back.
Well, he was wrong.
I lifted my fist, pulling my arm back, ready to punch that stupid smile right off the old man's face. I didn't care that I had never thrown a punch in my life. I didn't care that I was wearing an evening gown and heels. All I cared about was wiping that smirk away and making him feel even a fraction of the pain he had just caused me.
But someone beat me to it.
I saw movement in front of me, so fast I barely registered what was happening. There was a sickening thud of flesh hitting flesh and suddenly Mr. Hawthorn was falling backward, his body crumpling like a rag doll.
He hit the ground hard, landing flat on his back. The glass he had been holding flew from his hand and shattered against the marble floor with a loud crash that seemed to echo through the entire room. The sound cut through the music and conversation like a knife, and suddenly everyone nearby stopped what they were doing and turned to look.
I stood there, my fist still raised in the air, trying to process what had just happened. And then I saw him.
Hunter stood in front of me, his own fist still raised, his knuckles red from where they had connected with Mr. Hawthorn's face. His chest was heaving and there was a dangerous look in his eyes that I had never seen before, something dark and furious and completely terrifying.
On the ground, Mr. Hawthorn groaned and touched his face. A huge red mark was already blooming across his cheek, spreading from his jaw up to his eye. He looked dazed and confused, like he couldn't quite believe what had just happened.
The crowd around us had fallen completely silent. Everyone was staring at the scene unfolding before them, mouths hanging open in shock. The music was still playing somewhere in the background but it seemed distant and unimportant.
Hunter stood over Mr. Hawthorn's fallen body, his hands still clenched into fists. When he spoke, his voice was cold and sharp as a blade.
"Mrs. Hawthorn," he called out, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Come and take your husband away. Now."
A woman in a blue dress pushed through the gathered crowd, her face pale and horrified. She rushed to her husband's side, kneeling down beside him.
"What happened?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Richard, are you alright?"
But Hunter didn't give Mr. Hawthorn a chance to answer. He took a step closer, looming over both of them with an expression that would have made anyone think twice about crossing him.
"Being drunk isn't going to save him from a lawsuit of sexual harassment if I'm the one filing it," Hunter said, his voice carrying clearly through the silent room. "Get him out of my house. Now. Before I decide to press charges."
Mrs. Hawthorn's eyes went wide with fear. She grabbed her husband's arm and tried to help him up, struggling under his weight. Mr. Hawthorn was still groaning, his hand pressed against his rapidly swelling cheek.
"There must be some mistake," Mrs. Hawthorn said desperately. "My husband would never do such a thing. He's a respectable businessman. He wouldn't harass anyone."
"I saw what I saw," Hunter said flatly. "And I have dozens of witnesses who can testify to what happened here tonight. Now get him out before I change my mind about being merciful."
Mrs. Hawthorn looked like she wanted to argue further, but something in Hunter's expression must have convinced her that it would be a very bad idea. She redoubled her efforts to get her husband to his feet, finally managing to pull him up to a standing position.
But before she could lead him away, two more figures pushed through the crowd.
Xavier and Caroline appeared at their side, both of them looking concerned and confused. Xavier's eyes swept over the scene, taking in Mr. Hawthorn's swollen face, the broken glass on the floor, and Hunter standing there with his fists still clenched.
"What's going on here?" Xavier demanded. "Mr. Hawthorn, are you alright?"
I felt my heart sink. Of course Xavier's first concern would be for his investor, not for me. He hadn't even looked in my direction yet, hadn't asked if I was okay or what had happened.
Hunter turned to face Xavier, and I saw his jaw tighten with barely controlled fury. "Are you seriously asking that pervert if he's alright?" Hunter snapped. "Your investor just tried to humiliate your wife. He grabbed her, wouldn't let her go, and said some truly disgusting things to her. And your first instinct is to check on him?"
Xavier's face flushed red and I couldn't tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. He finally looked at me, his eyes searching my face for a moment before turning back to Hunter.
"My family matters are none of your business, Hunter," Xavier said, his voice tight and controlled. "I'm sure there's been some kind of misunderstanding here."
"Misunderstanding?" Hunter repeated, his voice rising. "I heard what he said to her. I saw him grab her wrist. There's no misunderstanding about it."
But Xavier was already shaking his head, dismissing Hunter's words like they meant nothing. He turned to Mr. Hawthorn, who was leaning heavily on his wife, still looking dazed from the punch.
"Mr. Hawthorn is a respected member of the business community," Xavier said firmly. "I've known him for years and he's always conducted himself with the utmost professionalism. Cathy probably misunderstood his intentions or is overreacting to something innocent."
The words hit me like a physical blow. I actually took a step backward, my hand coming up to my chest as if I could somehow protect my heart from the pain of what Xavier had just said.
He thought I was overreacting. He thought I had misunderstood. He was taking a pervert's side over mine.
"Xavier," I whispered, but my voice was so quiet it got lost in the noise of the gathered crowd.
Caroline stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Xavier's arm. "Maybe we should hear what Cathy has to say," she suggested softly. "Before we make any judgments."
But Xavier barely acknowledged her words. He was too focused on Mr. Hawthorn, on making sure his precious investor was taken care of.
"There is no way a noble man like Mr. Hawthorn would have stooped so low as to harass Cathy," Xavier continued, and each word felt like another knife in my back. "He's been a friend and supporter of my business for years. I trust him completely."
I stood there, stunned into silence, watching the man I loved defend the person who had just tried to force himself on me. My heart was breaking into smaller and smaller pieces with every word that came out of Xavier's mouth.
Hunter looked between Xavier and me, and I saw something change in his expression. The fury was still there, but now it was mixed with something else. Disgust, maybe. Or disappointment.
"You're really going to stand there and defend him?" Hunter asked Xavier, his voice dangerously quiet. "After what he did to Cathy? After the way he spoke to her?"
"I'm defending a valued business associate from what appears to be a drunken altercation at a party," Xavier replied coolly. "You assaulted him, Hunter. In front of all these witnesses. You're lucky he doesn't press charges against you."
"He grabbed your wife," Hunter said, emphasizing each word. "He wouldn't let her go. He made inappropriate advances and insulted her in the worst possible way. And you're worried about pressing charges?"
Xavier's expression hardened. "Like I said, my family matters are none of your concern. Cathy is my wife and I'll handle this situation as I see fit. You had no right to get involved."
I felt tears starting to burn behind my eyes but I refused to let them fall. Not here. Not in front of all these people who were watching us like we were some kind of entertainment for their boring party.