Chapter 7

The bottle came down.

The first blow sent black spots bursting across Fredrick's vision, followed by a wave of searing pain.

The second blow struck, and something warm blurred his sight.

By the third, he could no longer feel the pain.

The world spun before everything went completely dark.

…

When Fredrick woke up in the hospital again, there was no one by his side, just as before.

Thick gauze covered his forehead, and bandages wrapped his shoulder and back. Even the slightest movement sent pain shooting through his body.

Roxanne probably still had no idea that the woman she had beaten half to death for Jaxon's sake had taken out her rage on her own husband instead. Or perhaps she already knew and simply didn't care. She was probably too busy comforting a shaken Jaxon to spare Fredrick a single thought.

He lay in the hospital bed and stared at the white ceiling, overcome by an exhaustion and desolation that seemed to seep from the depths of his bones.

…

Fredrick remained in the hospital for a few more days until the wound on his head had healed enough for him to leave.

He took a taxi home, only to find Roxanne waiting for him in the living room. She sat on the sofa, her expression sour.

The moment she saw him, she demanded, "Where have you been these past few days? Mary said you never came home."

Fredrick didn't bother answering. He changed his shoes and headed for the stairs.

"Stop right there," Roxanne called after him. "I'm talking to you."

Fredrick paused and turned toward her, his eyes weary. "Is there something you need?"

His tone caught her off guard for a moment.

She swallowed her irritation and said, "Jax's first solo sculpture exhibition is today. He doesn't have many friends, so he wants you there to support him."

Fredrick almost laughed. "Roxanne, since when is the husband supposed to be friends with the man his wife is having an affair with?"

Her expression darkened. "Fredrick! I've told you before that you two need to coexist peacefully. Can't you be a little more generous?"

Fredrick stared at her. She was so utterly convinced that her demands were reasonable that he suddenly felt too exhausted to argue.

He knew that even if he refused, Roxanne cared enough about Jaxon's feelings to drag him there one way or another.

What was the point of resisting?

"Fine. I'll go," he replied flatly.

Roxanne blinked, clearly surprised by his easy agreement. But she gave it little thought, assuming he had finally come to his senses or simply given up.

"The car's out front. Let's go."

…

The exhibition took place at a newly opened art gallery. It was a grand, elaborate affair that had drawn a large crowd of socialites, journalists, and artists.

It was obvious how much money Roxanne had spent to make Jaxon the center of attention.

Dressed in a white suit, Jaxon moved through the crowd with a dazzling smile.

When he spotted Roxanne, his eyes lit up, and he hurried over. "Roxy! You made it!"

He slipped his arm through hers as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Then, as if he had only just noticed Fredrick, he put on a convincing look of surprise. "Freddy's here too? That's great! I was worried you wouldn't want to come."

Fredrick's mouth twitched. "Congratulations."

Jaxon's smile broadened. "Thanks, Freddy. Come on, let me show you around."

The spacious gallery was divided into several sections. Each sculpture bore a hefty price tag and a detailed description of its concept and creative process.

Wherever Jaxon went, people stopped him to offer their congratulations and praise. His smile grew brighter with every compliment.

Roxanne said nothing, but the indulgent look on her face was impossible to miss.

Fredrick followed quietly behind them, little more than an irrelevant bystander.

When they reached the center of the gallery, Jaxon stopped and addressed the crowd around him. "I've prepared a little surprise for everyone. It's a video that looks back on my journey as a sculptor, from when I first started to where I am today. It also shares some of my thoughts and experiences along the way."

He gestured for the staff to begin the screening.

The lights dimmed, music swelled, and a series of images appeared on the screen. Some featured abstract sculptures, while others showcased more realistic works.

But just as the video was about to end, the images abruptly changed.

The screen no longer displayed sculptures or artistic photographs. Instead, it showed private photos of Jaxon, completely naked.

His face instantly turned deathly pale.

The room erupted into chaos. Reporters raised their cameras, and flashes went off in a frenzy.

Roxanne finally snapped out of her shock and roared, "Turn it off! Turn it off right now!"

The staff scrambled to shut off the screen, but it was already too late.

Jaxon stood there trembling before he suddenly pointed at Fredrick. "Freddy! I've never done anything to hurt you! Why would you try to ruin me with something so filthy? Why?"

Fredrick stared at him, struck by the sheer absurdity of the accusation. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

"Who else would hate me enough to do something like this?" Jaxon spun toward Roxanne and clutched her hand. "Roxy, you have to make this right! I'm finished! I'll never be able to show my face in public again!"

Roxanne comforted him before turning her gaze on Fredrick. Her eyes, once so full of reckless charm, were colder than he had ever seen them.

"Fredrick Tatham." She spat out each syllable. "Are you satisfied now?"

"I already told you. It wasn't me."

"Who else could it have been?" Roxanne snarled, a vein bulging at her temple. "Fredrick, I know you hate Jax, but to humiliate him with something this filthy? Don't you think you've crossed the line? I never imagined you'd become such a vicious man."

Fredrick stared at her. 'Vicious…'

The word struck him like a blade to the chest, yet he had grown too numb to feel its sting.

He let out a sudden laugh, his eyes reddening. "So that's what I am to you now, Roxanne? A vicious man?"

She didn't answer, but the look in her eyes said everything.

"Fine." Fredrick nodded, his smile more painful to behold than tears. "So what are you going to do about it? Call the police on me? Or lock me up again, like you used to, and force me to reflect on my sins?"

His apparent indifference only fueled Roxanne's anger. He had ruined the exhibition she had worked so hard to organize for Jax. He had destroyed Jax's reputation. Yet he couldn't even muster a shred of remorse.

"If you do something wrong, you have to pay for it." Her voice was icy.

She turned to the assistant behind her and snapped, "Find every private photo of Fredrick you can get your hands on. Print them out and plaster them all over the city. Whatever humiliation Jax has suffered today, I want Fredrick to suffer a hundred times worse!"