Chapter 2 - Victim Game

VIOLET

I was stupefied. Words failed me. The situation was difficult to comprehend and look for a solution instantly. I knew Katie was a bastard but I didn't think that she would stoop so low as to do something like that.

"Katie, I didn't...," I was still trying to talk when the people at the door rushed in. It was my husband, Stewart Johnston, and his mother, Madam Josephine who walked in on us.

"Oh my! Violet! How could you do this to my child?" Madam Josephine gasped, raising her hands to her mouth with her eyes widened. She rushed to Katie and bent to her level.

"Mum! Brother! Please, ask Violet why she hates me so much. I was only trying to deliver what you sent me before she got pissed off. She slapped me, mum. She didn't just slap me but pushed me to the floor," She explained, shedding crocodile tears.

I was perplexed. This was beyond my expectations. Katie played the victim game effortlessly. Her cracked speech and crocodile tears were top of the game. I had really underestimated her

"What! You mooch! Did you really do this to my daughter? You are such a heartless pauper. This is the reason I never wanted my son to associate with you. The poor people's hearts are filled with evil and you just proved that to us," Madam Josephine let out, assisting Katie up.

"Mother, you need to believe me. I didn't do it. She was the one who slapped me. Look at my face. You can see the shape of her fingers," I enunciated, hoping that they would listen to me.

I was aware that Madam Josephine didn't like me. And I wouldn't be surprised if she believed her daughter over me. I just wished that she would have a bit of conscience and analyze the situation without bias.

"Don't call me your mother. I am not the mother to a dirty poverty stricken idiot like you. I know my children and you aren't one of them," She shouted, pointing an accusing finger at me.

As expected, she didn't believe me. She would support her daughter and paint me badly. How do I explain to everyone that I was the victim? I was the one who got slapped by Katie.

Retracting my gaze from the mother and daughter, I moved it to Stewart who was standing beside her. His hands were tucked in his pockets and his mouth clamped as he watched the scene.

"Stewart, you trust me, right? You know I didn't push her," I said, walking to him.

As I got closer, I was hit by a cold wave that sent chills down my spine. Goosebumps gripped me, appearing on every part of my body. For a bit second, I couldn't look at him.

"Take Katie to her room, Mom. I will ask Doctor Martins to tend to her," Stewart ordered in a deep baritone voice. His voice brought serenity into my heart and I forgot about my predicament for a second. I was certain that he knew the truth about the situation and didn't want to apologize to me in front of his family since they wouldn't want that.

Madam Josephine and Katie glanced at me irritatingly for the last time, hissed, and strolled out of the room, with Katie's head on her mother's shoulder.

As soon as they left, Stewart removed his hands from his pockets and kneaded his brows with his fingertips. "You must have forgotten your place, Violet. Do I need to remind you that you are just a maid who was given the position of a bed warmer in this house?" He husked, breaking my assumptions.

My eyes flickered and my mouth shook. "What!" I spurted out in disbelief. It was hard to accept that my ears weren't malfunctioning. I didn't want to believe that I heard the right thing.

He closed the little gap between us, snatched my hand, and lifted it angrily, squeezing it while probing his gaze into me. "You shouldn't have hit my sister with these dirty hands of yours. You know how I hate toying with my family. I don't joke with them," He growled, his eyes darkening with fireballs rolling in them.

"Stewart! What are you doing? Your sister hit me and lied that I hit her. How can you just believe her words?" I spurted out, tears dancing in my eyelids. My voice was shaky and I felt emotions surge within me.

He snorted, pushing my hands away. "You don't think I will believe a word that comes from an obsessed moocher like you, do you?"

"What!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, Violet. I have had enough of you. I don't want to keep pretending I like you. You are suffocating me with your bad breath. You have no usefulness whatsoever to me. The only thing you are good at is manipulating my grandfather to force me to marry you. You are not good in bed. You are also a bloody barren. Your stomach cannot hold a single baby for the past two I have been fucking you like a whore," He spat in my face. His veins popping in his skin. His eyes reddened.

At this point, I couldn't stop the tears from rolling out of my eyes. What just happened? Why did he suddenly hate me? He never had a problem with me. Our wedding was impromptu but he never seemed like he didn't want it. He accepted me. It had been two years since we got married and he had never spoken to me rudely. Was it because of what Katie said? Was it because I hadn't conceived? But I tried my best. I have done countless tests at the hospital and the doctor kept saying that I was fine. They told me that nothing was wrong with me.

"You know the truth, Stewart," I said, tears gliding out of my eyes. "You know I am not barren. The doctors affirmed that. They said nothing was wrong with me and I would conceive at the right time. Why are you making it seem like everything is my fault suddenly?" I asked, stifling the snots back to my nostrils.

He chuckled. "The reason I endured your shits for two years was because I thought you could bore me an heir but you failed. You cannot get rich and you cannot even conceive. I have never seen a woman who is as useless as you. And you think you have the right to raise your hands on my sister? Do you have a death wish? Where the hell did you get your audacity from?" He barked. There wasn't an ounce of affection in his eyes like they used to. I was surprised. How did everything change? We were fine until this moment. Could it be the party stress? He is celebrating his thirtieth birthday today. Is he nervous?

Thinking about it, I thought he was misbehaving under stress and decided to end the conversation. He would apologize for speaking to me rudely after his birthday party.

I took his hands in mine and looked into His eyes even when he clearly didn't want to look at mine. "My dear husband, I am so sorry for frustrating you. Please, let's go to the party and talk about this after the party. I will go and apologize to Katie in her room," I told him with a smile.

I had no choice. It was a stupid move to argue with Katie in the first place, knowing that she had more supporters than me. I had been destined to lose from the beginning of the whole shit.

Violently, he yanked his hands away from mine and pushed me backward. "Don't you ever touch me with those filthy hands of yours," He said. "Remove your dress and change into something comfy. You will be assisting the maids in the kitchen," He simply informed, turned, and began to walk toward the door.

"Stewart," I called, surprised by his last statement. "What do you mean by I will be expecting the maids at the kitchen today? Am I not supposed to be at my husband's side today?" My brows raised.

He halted, tilted his head so that he could see me and a smug was etched on his face. "You don't have a husband here. You are just a maid. So act like one to avoid being punished," He said.

"I... I thought you wanted me to be at the party. Isn't that the reason you...,"

"Oh! That!" He cut me off and then scoffed. "Willow didn't like it anymore. She asked me to bring it to you. I don't think you can ever be as nice as milady," He mumbled, chuckled mockingly, and left the room.

My knees weakened and I fell to the floor the moment I heard that name.

Willow. Willow Collins. She is Stewart's childhood lover.

When the hell did she return to the country?