Chapter 02

Camille sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, phone clutched tightly in her hand as the clock struck 10:17 p.m. She had called Roderick’s line twenty-three times.

 Twenty-three unanswered calls. Each one rang until it went to voicemail, his deep voice coolly instructing callers to leave a message.

Why wasn’t he picking up?

He had given her permission this morning to have the servants prepare a special anniversary dinner. He knew tonight mattered, or at least he should have known.

 Married couples were supposed to celebrate milestones together, weren’t they? They were supposed to sit across from each other, talk, maybe even pretend they didn’t hate the sight of one another for one night.

Her thumb hovered over his name again. She pressed call.

Straight to voicemail.

With trembling fingers, she dialed his office. His secretary answered on the second ring, sounding surprised.

“Mr. King didn’t come into the office today, Mrs. King. He’s been out all day.”

Camille’s stomach twisted. Her last resort was his personal assistant. Grey answered on the first ring, his voice professional and guarded.

“Good evening, Madam Camille.”

“Where is my husband?” she asked, voice barely steady. “He’s supposed to be home tonight.”

There was a short, uncomfortable pause.

“Boss is busy right now.”

“Busy with what?” Her voice rose. “Where is he, Grey? Tell me.”

Another pause. Then, quietly...

“He’s with Miss Taylor.”

Her heart dropped like a stone into an endless well.

Grey hung up before she could say another word.

Camille stared at the phone screen, the glow illuminating the tears already gathering in her eyes. Taylor.

 Of course it was Taylor.

She had always known about his mistress. For three years, she had swallowed the humiliation, telling herself that no matter how many nights he spent in that woman’s bed, he would always come home to her in the end. 

She was the wife. The one with his last name. The one living in this cold, beautiful prison.

But tonight?

Tonight was supposed to be different.

Rage, hot and unfamiliar, began to bloom in her chest. She stood abruptly, chest heaving. How dare he? How could one man treat his wife with such cruelty? She wasn’t even worthy of one night? Not even their anniversary?

She stormed out of the bedroom, her heels clicking angrily against the floor as she paced through the silent villa. 

“I’m such a fool,” She whispered bitterly, wiping angry tears from her cheeks. “Waiting like a loyal dog for a man who doesn’t even see me as human.”

The sound of the front door opening made her freeze.

Roderick stepped inside, looking as impeccable as he had that morning, though his hair was slightly tousled now. His jacket was slung over one shoulder. He smelled faintly of expensive cologne and another woman’s perfume.

Camille stood up at the sight of him, watching him.

Their eyes met. For a split second, something like surprise flickered across his face at seeing her still awake and dressed.

“Where were you?” She asked.

Roderick paused mid-step, one eyebrow lifting slowly. This was new. Camille never questioned him. 

“I was out,” He replied calmly, continuing up the stairs. “Got a problem, Camille?”

He walked past her into the bedroom as if she were invincible to him. She followed him, fury rising with every step.

“You were out with your mistress, weren’t you?” Her voice cracked with disbelief. “You were with Taylor!”

Roderick began unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the hard planes of his chest. He didn’t even look at her.

“Yes, I was with her,” he said flatly. “Today was her birthday, so I spent the evening with her.”

The words hit Camille like a physical blow. Disbelief twisted her features. He said it so casually, not even a single remorse.

“Our wedding anniversary,” She whispered, then louder, “Today was our wedding anniversary, Roderick! It was supposed to be our day! I waited for hours like an idiot while you were celebrating another woman’s birthday. How could you be so heartless?”

She stepped forward and shoved at his chest, her small hands barely moving him. “You knew I was waiting!”

Roderick’s hand shot out lightning-fast, catching her wrist in a firm grip. He yanked her closer until their bodies touched. His dark eyes bored into hers, cold and unyielding.

“You already know about me and Taylor, so why are you acting up now?” His voice was dangerously low. “Don’t start throwing tantrums, Camille. It doesn’t suit you.”

She stared up at him, searching his face for even a flicker of remorse.

There was none.

Just irritation and mild annoyance. As if her pain was an inconvenience.

Something inside Camille finally snapped.

She jerked her wrist free, breathing hard. Tears streamed down her face, but her voice came out steady and strong for the first time in years.

“I’ve had enough.” The words tasted like freedom.

 “You know what? I want a divorce.”

Roderick stilled completely. For the first time in their marriage, genuine shock flashed across his handsome face. His eyes narrowed as he studied her, as if seeing her for the first time.

Camille let out a bitter, broken laugh.

 “Oh, you probably didn't expect that, did you?”