LOGINCamilla
I did not just read that.
No! No! No! No!
I couldn’t believe I just dropped my phone on the ground! And of all the days, it had to be today, my first day of work! I quickly bent down to pick it up, my heart slamming against my ribs like a jackhammer. As I unlocked the screen, my eyes widened again in horror, re-reading the text. The text from Stephano Maddens, my new boss.
I went blank. Why was he texting me? What did he want from me? I tried to find some context, some reason to believe it was just a kind gesture. But deep down, I knew it wasn't. This was Stephano Maddens we were talking about. The man who made my high school years a living hell. The guy who took pleasure in my misery.
"No, no, no, no, no!" I muttered to myself, pacing around my room. "This can't be happening. Not today, not ever." I felt like I was going to throw up. My stomach was tightening with anxiety, my fingers shaky.
I thought about not going to work at all. Just staying in bed, hiding under the covers, and pretending the world didn't exist.
But then reality slapped me right back to my senses. I needed this job. I could quit, just walk away and never look back. I needed the money, I needed the job. I had bills to pay, rent to cover, and a life to live. I couldn't just let Stephano Maddens run me out of town. But how was I going to face him every day? How was I going to take orders from him, work under him, and play the obedient little staff?
"Okay, okay, okay," I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. "Let's think this through, Camilla. Maybe it's not as bad as you think. Maybe he's changed. Maybe he's actually a decent human being now."
But as I looked at the text again, I knew I was lying to myself. This was Stephano Maddens we were talking about. He hadn't changed. He was still the same cruel, heartless person he was in high school. And now, he was my boss.
What was I going to do? How was I going to survive this? I had to think of something, anything, to get out of this nightmare. I thought about calling in sick, but that would only delay the inevitable. I had to face him eventually. But maybe I could pretend I had a family emergency? No, that wouldn't work, I'd have to provide proof. Hmm, maybe I could say I had a sudden case of food poisoning? But what if he wanted me to provide a doctor's note? Ugh, why was this happening to me?!
Maybe I could request a transfer? But what if that didn't work? What if I was stuck with him as my boss forever? The thought gave me the chills.
"Okay, Camilla," I took another deep breath and tried to steel myself. "You got this. You can do this. Just go to work, do your job, and ignore him. You don't have to deal with him. You can do this."
But as I looked at the text again, I knew it was just the beginning of the torment. And I was trapped.
I rubbed my hand against my neck, taking long strides across my room. I stopped right in front of the clock, my eyes widening in horror. The bright red numbers glaring at me. It spelt: 7:45 AM. I couldn't believe it. I thought the battery must be dead, but then I saw the seconds ticking away.
No, no, no! This couldn't be happening!
I quickly pulled out my phone to set the correct time, my hands shaking slightly. But as I unlocked my phone, my heart dropped even further. The time on my phone read 7:45 AM too.
A voice echoed in my head, "You're so doomed, Camilla. It's like you are destined to have a bad day today. Running late on your first day of work? That's not exactly the impression you want to make."
I could feel my heart racing like a rabbit's. I could feel my face heating up, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. How could I be so stupid? I thought I had set the alarm for 6:00 AM, but now I realized I had made a mistake. A big one.
I quickly unlocked my phone, my fingers shaking slightly as I checked my alarm clock. And that's when I saw it. The alarm was set for 6:00 PM. Not 6:00 AM. I felt like screaming. I was supposed to be at work at 8:00 AM. Sharp. And now, I was extremely late.
“Camilla, you're doomed.”
"Shut up! This is not funny!" I snapped at my inner voice. It was like a pesky little sibling who wouldn't leave me alone. "You're going to be late, you're going to get fired, and you're going to end up living in a cardboard box. Just great, Camilla. Just great."
I glared at my phone, as if it was the device's fault that I was running late. "Stupid alarm clock! Why didn't you go off?" I exclaimed, feeling my anxiety spike.
I stared at the clock, my heart racing with every ticking second. Now, 7:47 AM. I was supposed to be at work in thirteen minutes. Stephano already had it in for me, and now I was handing him more ammunition to hate and torment me.
What if he thought I was irresponsible? What if he thought I wasn't taking this job seriously? The questions swirled in my head, making my mind spin.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. I could still make it on time. I just needed to rush and get ready. But my mind was a jumble of worst-case scenarios. What if I tripped and fell on my way there? What if I spilled coffee all over my shirt? The possibilities were endless, and my anxiety was getting out of control.
Why did this have to happen to me? Why did I have to be so stupid and set the alarm for the wrong time? I felt like kicking myself.
And then, the ultimate nightmare: what if Stephano was already there, watching me walk in late? I could almost see the smug look on his face, the gleam in his eye as he thought, “Ah, Camilla's already screwing up.”
I took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but my mind was still racing. "But what if I'm really late? What if Stephano thinks I'm irresponsible?"
“Camilla, you're going to be fine. Just take a few deep breaths and focus on getting ready. You can do this. Take a deep breath and focus on one thing at a time. Get dressed. Then worry about getting to work. One step at a time."
****
I had finally arrived, and I was disastrously late. I checked my watch as I got out of the cab - 9:05 AM. My throat tightened. Getting fired had seemed like a real possibility then. I had struggled to find a cab on time, which had only added to my delay.
I fidgeted with my wrinkled shirt, the fabric bunched up in all the wrong places. I had thrown it on in a rush, not even bothering to iron it. And the skirt... ugh, the skirt was a nightmare. It clung to my hips and made my bum feel like it was on display. I had tried to adjust it in the cab, but it was no use. I was just going to have to suck it up and deal with it.
I glanced up at the building. This was it, the firm that had once belonged to Elvis, but was now owned by the devil named Stephano Maddens.
I fidgeted with my wrinkled shirt, tugging at the hem and adjusting the collar for what felt like the hundredth time. My eyes darted back and forth, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios.
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, my tight skirt riding up even further. I tried to smooth it down, but it was no use. I was a mess.
“You're not going to stand out here all day, are you?" my mind asked.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves. "No, of course not," I muttered to myself.
My inner voice was like a kick in the pants. "Then get moving, Camilla! You're already late. Just go inside and get it over with."
I balled my fingers into a fist and shifted inside.
I walked briskly inside, my bag clutched tightly in my hand. I kept my eyes fixed on the ground, avoiding eye contact with my colleagues. I didn't want to draw attention to myself, especially since I was late. The elevator was my escape route. Then, I heard a voice behind me.
"Good morning, Camilla!"
Ugh, Julia.
I pretended not to hear, keeping my gaze downcast. I couldn't afford to stop and chat, not now. I quickened my pace, my heart racing with anxiety. I was already late, and the last thing I needed was to get caught up in a conversation.
"Good morning, Julia," I muttered, not breaking stride.
Julia fell into step beside me, but I didn't slow down. I was determined to reach the elevator and make my escape. I could feel Julia's curious gaze on me, but I refused to meet her eye. I was too embarrassed, too mortified. All I wanted to do was get to my desk and hide.
I was finally close enough to the elevator to press the button. Julia was still beside me. I didn't want to talk to her, didn't want to explain my tardiness or my frazzled state. So I did the only thing I could think of - I jumped into the elevator the moment the doors slid open.
I pressed the button and squeezed inside, closing my eyes and exhaling a sigh of relief as the doors shut behind me. I was safe, at least for the moment. I could finally breathe.
Right after I exhaled, I heard a sigh.
"Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace us with their presence. You're certainly making an entrance, Camilla."
Stefano Maddens.
~ CamillaI woke slowly, the light of morning spilling soft and gold through the blinds. The bed felt empty beside me, and for a fleeting second, panic fluttered in my chest. Where was he? Stephano, my heart said it before my brain could catch up, where was he?I sat up, my bare feet brushing against the cold wood floor, and noticed his shirt lying across the chair by the dresser. Without thinking, I picked it up and slipped it on. The fabric swallowed me, the scent of him still faintly clinging to it a smell that made my stomach twist in ways I couldn’t name. I breathed it in, letting it anchor me, and sank onto the edge of the bed.Last night. Oh, last night.The memory hit me in a wave. It wasn’t like before. It was not like the sharp, brutal, wild moments he usually had with me, the kind that left me dizzy, shaken, sometimes ashamed. Last night… last night, it had been different. He had looked at me like I was the only thing in the world that mattered. He had told me he loved me.
~ CamillaI didn’t expect him to move again. For a long, suspended heartbeat, Stephano just stood there across from me, breathing like a man holding himself together with sheer willpower. His eyes, those sharp, cold eyes that had once terrified me were soft. Open. Completely unguarded.Then his voice came, low and hoarse, barely above a whisper:“Camilla… I can’t change the way I treated you.”A pause. His throat worked, like the words were knives going up.“But I promise to spend the rest of my living existence apologizing… if you’ll have me.”My gasp was audible. It was tually audible. It sounded like some ridiculous startled bird sound.In my head, everything went completely blank and chaotic at the same time. A full system meltdown.He… what?What?WHAT?Stephano Maddens, my personal nightmare, the man who’d humiliated me, possessed me, torn my heart open and stomped on it with designer shoes, was offering himself to me?Me?The silence after his words stretched out like a chasm.
~ Stephano By the time I pulled into the driveway, my jaw ached from clenching it the entire ride home. My hands were still tight on the steering wheel, knuckles pale as bone. Isabella’s screams still echoed somewhere in the back of my skull, fading in and out like a bad radio signal. But beneath that was something to look forward to. Someone to look forward to.Camilla.The house was quiet when I stepped inside. Too quiet. My heartbeat stuttered in something like anticipation and dread. I shrugged off my jacket, tossed my keys onto the console, and walked in……and stopped dead.She was there, seated on the couch.Sitting curled up with her knees pulled to her chest, a blanket draped around her shoulders, her hair a little messy, her face bare and soft in the lamplight. The moment she heard my footsteps, she snapped her head up.Our eyes met. The look on her face hit me like a goddamn punch.It was that if surprise first, wide, unguarded. Then relief, subtle but unmistakable. And the
Two officers stepped in first. Then another. Then a detective in plain clothes, middle-aged, tired eyes, the look of a man who had already dealt with one too many ridiculous rich-people crimes this week.And behind them, heels clicking, breath catching, face streaked with makeup, Isabella stumbled out of the hallway, clutching her robe around herself.“Stephy?” she gasped. “What is this? What… what’s happening?”Her eyes darted to the officers, then to me, then back again. She looked like a panicked squirrel. A very stupid panicked squirrel.The detective looked between us. “Mister Maddens?”I gave him a courteous nod, as if he were a waiter and I’d just ordered sparkling water instead of someone’s arrest.“Ah,” I said, tapping the side of my head lightly, feigning a mild forgetfulness. “There she is. I almost forgot I ordered her arrest.”Isabella’s mouth fell open.“What?” she breathed. “You…you what? Stephy, no. No. No, you can’t be serious.”She grabbed my arm. I peeled her off wi
~ Stephano Isabella’s HouseThe closer I got to Isabella’s gated driveway, the hotter the anger in my chest burned.This kind of anger was different. It was a low, ugly flame licking up my ribs, tightening the muscles along my jaw until it felt like I’d crack teeth. I shouldn’t have come here in person. Any sane man would have sent lawyers, security, maybe a demolition crew. But sanity wasn’t something I had much of when it came to Camilla… and especially not after what Isabella had done.The gates were wide open.Wide.Open.It felt like she was expecting me. It felt ike she thought I’d come crawling back. The nerve of this bitch. My hands tightened around the steering wheel until my knuckles blanched. She was still living here, in my house, bought with my money, with furnishings I’d picked out back when I still thought she was just a harmless, clingy distraction instead of a reckless, delusional liability.She had kidnapped the mother of my child. She had tied her to a chair. She h
~ CamillaI wasn’t prepared for breakfast.Not physically, not mentally, not spiritually, nothing in me was built for the shock of waking up to the smell of eggs and butter and actual coffee drifting through the penthouse like we lived in some domestic alternate universe where Stephano Maddens cooked. The Stephano I knew ordered breakfast like royalty: one text, no thanks, no acknowledgement, no eating alongside me. The idea of him cracking eggs with his own hands didn’t even exist in the same galaxy as reality.But there he was. Standing at the stove. Fork in one hand. Spatula in the other. Barefoot, shirtless, hair slightly messy in a way that shouldn't have made my heart wobble, but unfortunately did.And, the most absurd part, he was humming. Humming. I actually thought I was hallucinating. Maybe trauma came with auditory side effects.I slid into a chair, still half convinced this was some luxurious fever dream. He set a plate in front of me, then one for himself, and without ask







