Chapter 6

Dixon played his part perfectly. He was quiet, efficient, and never met my gaze. Catalina, meanwhile, ignored him completely, focusing all her attention on me, suffocating me with her care. It was a masterclass in psychological warfare.

One night, she brought me a glass of warm milk before bed, just like she always did.

"To help you sleep, my love."

I took a sip. It tasted slightly off, a little bitter. My heart lurched. She had drugged me.

I pretended to drink it, then poured it into a potted plant when she wasn' t looking. I got into bed and feigned sleep.

A few minutes later, she leaned over and kissed my forehead. Her lips were cold. She thought I was unconscious, her little pet safely sedated for the night.

She got up and quietly opened the bedroom door. Dixon was waiting in the hallway.

He practically threw himself at her. "I can' t take it anymore, Cat. Seeing you with him, pretending I' m a servant..."

"Hush," she whispered, but she didn' t push him away.

She led him to the guest room across the hall. And then, they did something so cruel, so deliberate, it stole the breath from my lungs. They pulled back the curtains, leaving the window completely bare.

I opened my eyes. Through my own bedroom window, I had a clear view. I saw them on the bed, their bodies entwined in the moonlight. A silent, brutal performance meant just for me.

I squeezed my fists so tight that my knuckles turned white. The palm of my good hand was slick with blood from where my nails had dug in. But I didn' t feel the pain. My heart had stopped hurting. It was just a cold, hard lump in my chest.

She wasn' t worthy of my pain. She wasn' t worthy of anything from me.

The next day, I locked myself in my studio. I didn' t want to see either of them. I had Maria bring my meals. I needed to focus. The deadline for the London prize was approaching.

That evening, there was a knock on my studio door. It wasn' t Maria. It was Dixon, holding a dinner tray.

He smirked at me, the picture of smug victory. "Still hiding in here, playing with your little crayons? It' s pathetic."

He leaned closer, his voice a venomous whisper. "She only keeps you around out of pity. You' re a broken toy. Once she gets tired of you, she' ll throw you away."

A wave of nausea hit me. I wanted to smash his smug face in. I wanted to use my one good hand to wrap around his throat.

But I didn't. Violence was his game, not mine. My revenge would be different. It would be my success.

"What do you want, Dixon?" I asked, my voice dangerously calm.

"I want you gone," he sneered. "I' m the one she' s married to. I' m the one she loves. And I' m going to make sure you disappear for good."

I was about to slam the door in his face when I heard the click-clack of high heels on the hardwood floor. Catalina was coming.

Dixon' s face changed in an instant. The sneer vanished, replaced by a look of utter terror. He threw the tray of food on the floor, splashing soup and sauce all over my design sketches. Then he stumbled backward, falling to the ground.

"Please, don' t!" he cried, his voice full of fake panic. "Mr. Miller, I' m sorry! I didn' t mean to upset you! It was an accident!"

Catalina appeared at the end of the hall. She saw the mess, she saw Dixon cowering on the floor, and she saw me standing in the doorway.

Her eyes, for a moment, flashed with genuine concern for Dixon.

"He pushed me!" Dixon wailed.

"I did not," I said, my voice flat with disgust.

Dixon, the master manipulator, immediately changed his tune. "No, no, it was my fault. I tripped. I' m so sorry, Mrs. Carter. Please don' t be angry with Mr. Miller."

Catalina' s gaze shifted from him to me. Her expression was unreadable. She walked towards us, her face a cold mask.

"I believe you, Eleazar," she said softly, her eyes fixed on mine. Then she turned to Dixon, her voice turning to ice. "Pack your things. I want you out of my house tonight."

Dixon looked stunned.

"Now," she commanded.

He scrambled to his feet and scurried away like a kicked dog.

Catalina turned back to me, her face softening. "I' m sorry you had to deal with that, my love. Let' s go out. I' ll buy you dinner to make up for it."

She took my arm, leading me to my room to get changed. "I' ll get rid of him for good, I promise," she whispered.

But as she was helping me with my tie, I felt a familiar vibration from the pocket of the jacket she' d laid out for me. The ring. She must have slipped it in there. I palmed it, my fingers finding the small button.

I heard her voice, a low murmur from the other room where she' d gone to make a call.

She was talking to Dixon.

"...just a temporary setback, my love. You have to leave for now, to make him trust me. But it' s all part of the plan. Soon, you' ll have your freedom. Soon, we' ll be together properly."

"You promise?" Dixon' s pathetic voice whined.

"I promise," she said. "We' re husband and wife, aren' t we? I would never abandon you."

My world, which I thought could not break any further, fractured again.