Chapter 6 On One Condition

When I heard Brice callously threaten my grandmother's life and dismiss her as an "old hag," rage surged through my veins. My vision blurred into a haze of red fury, and I clenched the edge of the bed, my voice emerging as a low, menacing growl. "Brice Smith, you filthy piece of trash. You want to sell me off to keep living your fancy lie? Screw that! Hugh Gilbert, the Saunders family, I don't care who it is-I'm not your damn ticket to luxury. If you've got the balls, do it-kill me now. If not, brace yourself-you'll regret this sooner or later."

My words seemed to strike a nerve with Brice, the man who viewed me as nothing more than a bothersome obstacle.

His face contorted with rage as he lunged forward, seizing a chair next to the bed with the intent of crashing it down upon my head.

"Brice!" Kacie's voice cut through the tension as she dashed forward, grabbing his arm and uttering a reminder. "Don't forget what William just said!"

Her eyes, cold and calculating, bored into me as she stood there with the poise of a seasoned socialite, issuing a veiled threat. "There are far more excruciating ways to cause pain than death, Cathy. Just how long do you reckon your dear grandmother can endure under my control?"

A shiver of dread rippled through me. I swallowed hard, my voice thick with defiance. "Don't you dare lay a finger on my grandmother..."

With that, I hurled myself at her, fueled by desperation and the wild hope of dragging her down with me.

But Brice, with his brute strength, easily thwarted my attack, slapping me aside as if I were nothing more than a rag doll. I tumbled back onto the bed, the impact jarring every bone in my body.

My head crashed against the sharp corner of the nightstand, sending a piercing jolt of pain that blurred my vision momentarily.

As I reached up to feel the impact site, my fingers came away coated with blood, the vivid crimson stark against my skin.

"Stop squirming," Kacie sneered, her voice dripping with contempt. "You're nothing but an insect to us, one we can squash whenever we choose."

Her posture, brimming with arrogance, and the scorn in her gaze stung like salt in an open wound.

She wasn't wrong; in the eyes of the Smith family, I was merely a bug-insignificant, negligible, easily extinguished.

Despite my relentless efforts at the company, despite every ounce of my dedication as a director, and despite drinking with the clients until my stomach threatened to rebel, the moment I defied my boss, my job hung by a thread.

The Smith family, a family whose prestige had been cemented over three generations in Gruixtin, were courted and flattered by all. What chance did a powerless pawn like me stand against such giants?

My jaw tightened as I shot Kacie a glare cold enough to freeze hell over. "Even if I marry into the Saunders family, I will never bow to you or let you dictate my life. What's the point of forcing me into this marriage?"

Kacie's expression hardened, a smug certainty etching her features. "Oh, you will. Whether you like it or not."

***

I couldn't fathom where Kacie had mustered her audacious certainty, but it spurred me to a firm resolution.

As soon as the hospital released me, I'd whisk my grandmother away and abandon this city's shadows for good.

But there was one loose end I needed to tie up: Jaxton. I had to clarify things with him face-to-face, hoping to dispel the fog of misunderstandings.

The whole situation was a tangled web-how Kacie ended up getting William involved in this mess, or how he learned Jaxton was the father of my child, was beyond me. And why on earth William had promised to coerce Jaxton into marriage was a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

There'd been a huge misunderstanding, and the last thing I wanted was for Jaxton to get the wrong idea.

Yet, Jaxton never showed up.

William had mentioned he would bring Jaxton to the hospital for an apology, so I clung to that promise with a flicker of hope as soon as I woke up the following day.

My anticipation stretched from the golden hues of sunrise to the deepening twilight, yet neither of them appeared.

When the clock solemnly chimed midnight, I relinquished my grasp on hope.

In moments like these, I realized I was just as gullible as my late mother.

I clung to every word spoken to me as if it were gospel.

Had my soul been adrift in an endless ocean of misery, so starved for hope that the smallest spark seemed like a lifeline?

Clutching desperately at the last straws of hope, I only sank deeper into the abyss, an even more profound darkness swallowing me whole.

I buried my face in the pillow, surrendering to tears that soaked it completely, each drop a testament to my fragility.

A week later, rays of relief pierced through the gloom when the doctor declared that I was fit for discharge.

With a newfound resolve, I gathered my belongings, navigated the discharge formalities on my own, and was on the brink of hailing a taxi to retrieve my grandmother from the sanatorium.

However, as I stepped outside, a familiar car glided to a halt before me.

Before I could make sense of the situation, the back door swung open, and a bodyguard shoved me inside without a second thought.

The vehicle cut through the city, steering straight for the imposing gates of the Smith family estate. As soon as we arrived, I flung the door open and bolted out. My heart pounding, I stormed into the living room, my voice charged with a storm of emotions. "Brice, you-"

The words choked off in my throat.

There, exuding an aura of undeniable presence, sat a tall, elegant figure on the sofa.

Silent yet undeniably imposing, he commanded the room effortlessly, drawing every eye magnetically.

Shock washed over me as I met his gaze. Jaxton? What the hell was he doing here?

I shifted my gaze to the left and caught the gleam of warm, inviting eyes that twinkled with a gentle smile.

A chill ran down my spine, and my heart fluttered uncontrollably.

"Why are you lingering over there? Come join us," Brice called out.

He attempted a gentle tone, yet a subtle undercurrent of contempt bled through, rendering his words stiff and unnatural.

At that moment, however, my focus was elsewhere. I moved toward them almost mechanically, my eyes riveted on Jaxton's enigmatic face. Could it be that he was here to discuss marriage?

Kacie tugged me down beside her, her voice bubbling with excitement. "Cathy, William and Jaxton are here to talk about your marriage."

The announcement struck like a bolt of lightning, leaving a blinding flash of confusion in its wake.

Dumbfounded, I looked at Jaxton and managed to stammer, "You... you really want to marry me?"

Jaxton's eyes met mine briefly, a frosty barrier in his gaze.

His look doused me in an icy shock, harshly pulling me back to the stark reality.

He had clearly misunderstood.

Just as I was about to clarify, his voice cut through the tension, his lips barely parting as he icily stated, "Yes, I want to marry you. But on one condition-it remains a secret for now."

William's reaction was visceral, his eyes flaring with outrage as he spat out, "You little bastard..."

The words sliced through me, igniting a sharp pang in my heart.

The harsh reality struck me deeply: A man claimed he wanted to marry me, yet he insisted on keeping our union under wraps.

The reason was as painful as it was clear-there was no love.

"May I have a word with Jaxton in private?" I asked William, my voice barely above a whisper.

In the solitude of the study, Jaxton and I faced each other-tension crackling in the air.

My lips parted several times, attempting to break the silence, yet words eluded me.

Jaxton, however, didn't hesitate. His cold smile was the prelude to his cutting words. "Are you pleased with yourself now?"

His piercing gaze felt like a sword thrust through my soul. "You've pulled off an impressive bit of scheming. You staged that whole falling out just to make me vulnerable, and then called for help to draw me right into your trap. You revealed our past relationship, made sure everyone knew the child was mine, and manipulated this knowledge to press the Smiths into cornering my grandfather, who in turn forced me into agreeing to our marriage. Your lack of shame is astounding!"

I faced him, my expression a mask of hurt and disbelief as his words lashed out at me. It felt like a vice was tightening around my heart.

No, this wasn't the truth at all!

Desperate to clarify, I opened my mouth to speak, but the moment was shattered by the unexpected opening of the door.

Florrie breezed in, her expression apologetic yet insincere. "Sorry to barge in, but Cathy, there's someone on the phone for you."

Jaxton's parting look was icy as he exited the room, leaving me to grapple with the turbulent emotions his accusations had stirred.