Mag-log inLydia was still pacing my living room like she was the CEO of my life and I was an intern she was disappointed in. Her heels clicked like a clock counting down to my humiliation.“Stephano,” she sighed for the fifteenth time, “I swear, if this blows up tomorrow, I’m the one who will have to deal with the PR nightmare. Do you even understand how messy this is?”“Lydia,” I said slowly, “if I hear the words ‘nightmare’ or ‘messy’ one more time, I’m throwing you out.”She didn’t flinch. “Then who will clean up your disaster? Certainly not you.”I inhaled sharply. “You’re unbelievably irritating.”“And you’re unbelievably reckless,” she snapped. “Where did you even think she’d go? And you just left her unsupervised…”“I didn’t think she’d run,” I bit out.“You never think!” she shot back. “You assume people orbit you! Like, what did you think, Stephano? That she would just stay wherever you put her like a purse? She’s pregnant, hormonal, scared.”I raised a hand. “Spare me the sentimental
~ Stephano Home, sweet home. The door clicked behind me, and the quiet of the apartment hit like a velvet wall. I kicked off my shoes and ran a hand through my hair. The day had been long, brutal even, but I had been looking forward to one thing. Home. My home. My space. And Camilla.I frowned, lifting an eyebrow as I let the door swing shut. Something about the apartment felt… wrong. Not messy. Not chaotic. Everything was where it was supposed to be. Glasses on the sideboard, cushions lined like soldiers on the sofa. Even the faint scent of her perfume lingered, but only faintly, like a whisper from a past life.I rubbed my jaw. “Well, that’s weird.”I called her. One ring. Two rings. Three. Straight to voicemail.I frowned deeper and called again. Nothing.A slow, deliberate frustration curled inside me, not panic. Not yet. No, panic was for idiots who didn’t have control. I had control. I always had control. I inhaled. Exhaled. Calm. Calm. I walked through the apartment with delib
CHAPTER 101~ CamillaAlex walked towards me, and for a split second, a stupid, delusional split second, I searched his face for something human. Give me anything, a flicker of worry. Confusion. Regret. Love. Anything. Anything that resembled the man who kissed the corner of my jaw when he thought I wasn’t paying attention, who used to laugh at my little mistakes like they were adorable, but what stood in front of me wasn’t that man. This person was different.This Alex was steady. Cold. Detached. His jaw was set like stone, his eyes empty except for a calculating flicker that terrified me more than Isabella’s slap.“Alex…” My voice came out strangled. “Alex, please, please, help me.”He didn’t even pause. He approached me with slow, controlled steps, like a surgeon approaching a patient he no longer cared to numb.“Camilla,” he said calmly, “this isn’t personal.”He didn’t even pause. He approached me with slow, controlled steps, like a surgeon approaching a patient he no longer care
CHAPTER 100~ CamillaWhen consciousness finally clawed its way back into me, it didn’t feel like waking up. It felt like dragging myself through thick mud in the dark, every breath heavy, every heartbeat sluggish and far away. My skull was pounding, not like a headache, not like a migraine, but like there was a dull drum inside it being hit by a slow, cruel fist. My ears buzzed with a faint ringing. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. Then, like a camera lens adjusting, the room came into shaky focus around me.Dim. Brownish walls. A single lamp casting a muted glow that didn’t reach the corners. The faint smell of dust and floor polish. A bed, or maybe a cot, beside me. My wrists… tied. Not painfully. Not violently twisted or cutting into my skin. Just… secured. Restrained. Like a childproof lid on a bottle someone didn’t want opening accidentally.I blinked. Once. Twice. The world kept tilting, slow and nauseating, like I was still sliding toward unconsciousness. I swallowed.
CHAPTER 99~ CamillaI pulled on my clothes and the words Go. Go. Go echoed in my head. I didn’t pack a bag. The thought was a death sentence. Stephano noticed everything. A missing suitcase, an empty hanger, a cleared-out drawer, it would be a flare gun screaming my betrayal. He would hunt me down before the Uber even crossed the city limits. So I moved on pure, animal instinct. I picked my purse. My phone. My wallet. That was it. That was my entire life, condensed into the contents of a handbag. My hands trembled so violently I could barely type the Uber request into my phone. A Toyota Corolla. License plate... The details blurred. I didn't care if it was a spaceship, as long as it took me away from here. I slipped out the front door, the click of the lock behind me sounding like a gunshot in the morning quiet. I didn't look back at the sprawling modern prison, at the manicured lawn he was so proud of. I just started walking, fast, toward the meeting point at the end of the long d
~ CamillaThe sun wasn’t just bright; it was a judgmental bastard, spotlighting every dust mote dancing in the air and every single mistake I’d made last night. 9:00 AM. The other side of the bed was cold and untouched. Of course it was. Stephano didn’t linger. He conquered, he came, he left for his billion-dollar day, leaving me here in the wreckage. I tried to sit up, and my body screamed in a chorus of protests. A sharp ache in my lower back, a deep, throbbing soreness between my legs, and a specific, tender bruise on my hip from where he’d held me down against the living room couch. The memories crashed over me. The sting of the silk cushions against my cheek, the brutal, perfect rhythm of his hips slamming into me from behind, the raw, guttural sounds he made when he finished. And the worst part, the truly sickening part that made my stomach clench with self-loathing? A hot, slick pulse of remembrance low in my belly. I enjoyed it, every damn time. What kind of a dick fool was I?







