When Love Becomes a Cage (Melanie) novel Chapter 39

"No need. This outfit will do. I'm busy." I quickly shook my head, truly not wanting to return to that so-called home.

The mere thought of Kayla rummaging through my closet and picking out my dresses and jewelry made my skin crawl. Indeed, no matter how expensive things were, once they were tainted, they became utterly repulsive.

He gave me a once-over before we headed downstairs, probably thinking my getup was passable.

Plenty of colleagues threw glances my way. I knew what they were thinking. They probably figured I'd pulled some trick to get Clyde to be seen with me again.

Kayla was conspicuously absent from her usual antics. I remembered she was flaunting a new watch today, and it all made sense. She'd always been selfish, ready to step back if it benefited her, something she was better at than me.

Oops, it was a nice watch, a Blue Balloon. It was worth over ten thousand.

After arriving at the Patterson Mansion, Merritt was more pissed than I'd anticipated, giving Clyde a piece of his mind right before me.

In the Patterson family, I was still considered reliable. Despite Clyde's roaming eye over the past months, I'd remained a dutiful Mrs. Patterson. So, when trouble brewed, Merritt didn't even question me, pinning it all on Clyde.

Finally, Merritt's gaze settled on me. "Next week, at the Patterson Group's anniversary gala, I want you and Clyde to be there. Make sure you dress to impress."

I stared at him, baffled. The internet was buzzing with rumors of our divorce. Yet, he was so composed.

But then, Merritt clarified. "When Clyde married you, the press was favorable, and the Patterson Group maintained a positive image. We can't let that image get tarnished. Every marriage within the Patterson family matters greatly. You have to remain accountable to the family legacy. Do you understand?"

Neither Clyde nor I responded, but we knew Merritt was right.

Supporting Clyde to this point hadn't been easy for him. A scandal could devastate Clyde's reputation, making Merritt the first casualty.

"Are you listening? Do you understand?" Merritt's voice rose, his cane thumping against the floor for emphasis.

In unison, we responded, "We understand."

With a few more instructions, Merritt finally let us go.

On the way back, I was conflicted. Those events usually saw me as nothing more than a backdrop. Last time, he had brazenly taken a model to the gala, completely sidelining me.

This time...

I turned to look at him, and he was already looking back.

"What's on your mind?" He said with irritation, but I shook my head and looked away.

There was nothing left to say to him. Attending the gala would be my way of repaying Merritt for his kindness over the years.