Chapter 61 Chapter 61: An Obedient Dog Part 1
Cathy's P.O.V
The anger started as a small spark in my chest, but as I continued watching the tablet screen, it grew into a roaring fire that threatened to consume me completely.
Caroline was laughing. Actually laughing at what Xavier had just said about me.
"And honestly," Xavier continued, his voice dripping with disdain, "Cathy looks plain as fuck anyway. The only men she'll attract, if she actually takes me up on this offer, are men like that pig, Mr. Hawthorn."
My hands clenched around the tablet so hard my knuckles turned white. Mr. Hawthorn was the disgusting old businessman who had tried to corner me at Hunter’s New Year’s party, his hands wandering where they shouldn't have been. Xavier had seen it happen and had done nothing. Now I knew why.
Caroline's laugh rang out through the speakers again. "Xavier, don't be so mean."
But her words held no real conviction. She was enjoying this, enjoying hearing Xavier tear me down.
"I'm not being mean," Xavier said, and I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "I'm being honest. Cathy doesn't even compare to you, Caroline. You're gorgeous, intelligent, everything a man could want. She's just... there."
Just there. Like I was a piece of furniture. Something that existed but had no real value or purpose.
Caroline chuckled, a soft, satisfied sound. "Well, if that's the case, then this whole arrangement is actually perfect, isn't it? If Cathy agrees, we can continue being intimate right in front of her. And if anything happens like today where she catches us or gets upset..."
Xavier cut her off. "Nothing will happen. Trust me."
"How can you be so sure?" Caroline asked.
"Because Cathy is like an obedient dog," Xavier said, his voice cold and matter of fact. "She won't disobey her owner, or she risks losing everything. The house, the money, the lifestyle she's become accustomed to. She's too scared to leave, too dependent to fight back. She'll accept whatever I tell her to accept."
An obedient dog.
Those three words echoed in my mind, each one like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.
That's what he thought of me. That's what he had always thought of me. Not as his wife, not as his partner, not even as a human being with her own thoughts and feelings. Just a dog. A pet that existed to serve him and make him look good.
I turned off the tablet with shaking hands, unable to watch or listen anymore. If I kept going, I was afraid I might throw the tablet across the room, might scream loud enough for the entire mansion to hear.
Instead, I took a deep breath and stood up from the bed. My whole body was trembling, not from fear or sadness, but from pure, unadulterated rage.
Xavier thought I was plain. He thought I was worthless. He thought I would just accept whatever scraps of dignity he threw my way because I was too scared and too stupid to do anything else.
Well, he was about to learn just how wrong he was. I walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, making the water as hot as I could stand. As steam filled the room, I stripped off my clothes and stepped under the spray.
The hot water cascaded over me, washing away the feeling of Xavier's hands from this morning, washing away the lies and the manipulation and the false concern. I took my time, scrubbing every inch of my skin until it turned pink, shampooing my hair twice, conditioning it until it felt soft and silky.
I shaved my legs carefully, taking extra time to make sure they were perfectly smooth. I exfoliated, I moisturized, I did all the things I used to do when I actually cared about making myself attractive for Xavier.
But this time, I wasn't doing it for him. I was doing it for me. Because I wanted to feel beautiful, wanted to feel powerful, wanted to prove to myself that I was so much more than what Xavier thought I was.
When I finally stepped out of the shower, I felt like a different person. The anger was still there, burning hot and bright in my chest, but it was controlled now. Focused.
I wrapped myself in a towel and walked to my closet, scanning the rows of clothes hanging there. Most of them were things Xavier had chosen for me. Conservative dresses, modest skirts, clothes that made me look like the perfect, respectable wife.
But pushed to the back, hidden behind all the appropriate outfits, were a few pieces I had bought for myself. Things I had purchased before I got married, when I was still allowed to have my own style.
My hand reached for a red dress I hadn't worn in years. It was off the shoulder, showing more skin than Xavier would ever approve of. The hem was short, hitting mid thigh, and the fabric clung to curves I had forgotten I had.
Xavier would hate this dress. He would tell me I looked cheap, that I was embarrassing him, that no respectable wife would wear something like this.
Perfect. I slipped the dress on, adjusting it until it sat just right. Then I moved to my vanity and started on my makeup.