Chapter 03

“A divorce?” Roderick asked like he didn't hear her the first time. “Is this some kind of joke? Not a good time to play silly games with me, Camille.”

Camille lifted her chin, even as fresh tears burned her eyes. “I said I want a divorce. Does that sound like a joke to you, Roderick?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his dark eyes narrowing as if trying to read a foreign language written across her face. Then, unexpectedly, he chuckled — a low, mocking sound that sent chills down her spine. 

He shook his head, taking off his wrist watch with casual arrogance.

“A divorce?” He repeated the word like it tasted ridiculous. “If you’re that upset about the dinner, I’ll make it up to you.”

“I don’t need you to make it up to me!” Her voice cracked with raw emotion. “I’m fed up! I want out of this horrible marriage!”

“Horrible?” Roderick’s eyebrows shot up. 

He tossed his watch onto the bed and turned to face her fully, towering over her in the dimly lit bedroom. 

“I give you everything. You live like a queen because of me. Do you know what it means to be my wife? What exactly is so horrible about this marriage that you’re suddenly so fed up?”

Camille’s chest heaved. The words she had swallowed for three long years came rushing out like a dam breaking.

“Your wife?” She let out a bitter laugh that bordered on hysteria.

 “Is this… this cage… this hell your grand definition of a wife? I don’t have friends, Roderick. I don’t go out, I need your permission just to use my own money.... money that came from my family too! I’m not allowed to work, not allowed to have a life outside these walls unless it pleases you. I’m not a wife, Roderick. I’m a prisoner!”

“Prisoner?” He repeated the word slowly, as if it amused him. His lips curled into a cold smile. 

“Look around you, Camille. You sleep in expensive silk sheets, you wear diamonds, you have servants who attend to your every needs, servants who worship you. And you call yourself a prisoner? I can see you don’t value my efforts at all.”

“Value your efforts?” She stepped closer, her hands trembling at her sides. “You parade me like a trophy when it suits you, then ignore me for weeks. You sleep with your mistress on our anniversary and expect me to smile about it. You control every single part of my life and call that ‘providing’? I’m suffocating here!”

Roderick’s expression darkened. He closed the distance between them in two strides, his presence overwhelming.

“You can’t survive without me in the outside world,” He said, his voice low. 

“You have no skills, no money of your own, no connections. The moment you step out those gates, you’ll come crawling back. What do you think you’ll do? Get a little job somewhere? Become ordinary? You were raised for this life, Camille. So stop embarrassing yourself.”

Tears spilled freely down her cheeks now. The pain felt almost physical.

“Why are you giving up?” He continued, his tone shifting into something almost nostalgic, though it dripped with manipulation. 

“You were such a sweet little kitty when we got betrothed. So shy, so eager, so happy to finally have me as your husband. You used to look at me like I hung the moon. What happened to that girl?”

“That girl was naive,” Camille whispered brokenly. “That girl thought marriage meant love, but you never loved me. You only wanted to own me.”

Roderick’s hand shot out and gripped her upper arm, firm enough to make her gasp but not hard enough to bruise her. He pulled her flush against his hard chest, his fingers digging into her skin with possessive force.

“You’re nothing without me,” He growled, eyes blazing with dark intensity. “Nothing at all. So stop this stupidity you’re exhibiting right now.”

Camille tried to pull away, but he held her in place. Then his grip softened. He released her arm and cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing away her tears in a gesture that looked tender but felt like chains. 

“Darling… you belong to me. Running away won’t change that because I’ll always find you. And deep down, you know no one else will ever want you the way I do.”

The words sank into her like poison. Camille’s knees nearly buckled as she sobbed openly now, her shoulders shaking as years of suppressed pain poured out.

 How could he be so cruel and so convincing at the same time? How could the man who broke her still make her heart twist with conflicting emotions?

Roderick stared at her for another second, his thumbs still stroking her wet cheeks. Then, as if satisfied that he had reminded her of her place, he released her face and stepped back.

Without another word, he turned and walked out of the bedroom, the door closing behind him with a quiet, final click.

Camille stood frozen in the center of the room, arms wrapped tightly around herself. Her body trembled violently as fresh sobs tore from her throat. 

She cried until her throat hurt and her eyes burned. Cried for the girl she used to be. Cried for the woman she had become. Cried because even now, after everything, a tiny, broken part of her still ached for the love he would never give her.

What hurts the most is that everything he said was true, maybe nobody would really value in the world.