Camilla.The soft rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. I stretched lazily, feeling the remnants of a wonderful dream about Grey. Last night had been perfect. He’d held me close, kissed me with such intensity, and whispered promises of forever into my ear. It had felt so real, so right. I smiled at the thought of it as I slowly sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes.But as the haze of sleep lifted, something felt… off. I glanced around, noticing immediately that the space beside me was empty. The sheets where Grey had been just hours before were cold, undisturbed. I reached out instinctively, as if hoping to feel him beside me, but there was nothing. The bed was just a bed, and it felt like it was missing a piece.A small pang of disappointment blossomed in my chest. Where did he go?I stood up and pulled on my robe, then quickly made my way out of the room. My feet moved automatically, but my mind was clouded. I hadn’t expected him to be gon
Camilla.I didn’t tell anyone.Not old lady that has been friendly lately, not even Miri—no one. If I opened my mouth, they’d try to stop me. Maybe not out of malice, maybe out of fear or love or whatever, but it didn’t matter. This was something I had to do. Alone.The newspaper felt damp in my hands, crumpled and nearly torn at the edges from how many times I’d folded and unfolded it throughout the night. The image on the front page stared up at me like a challenge—her face, my face. That woman... she could be my exact replica, if not for the blank emptiness in her eyes. And there, in bold print beneath the photograph, was the name of the venue where it all supposedly happened.I held the paper tighter, slipping past the east wing of the mansion, careful not to make the floorboards creak. My heart thundered in my chest, screaming that someone would catch me, but no one did. The morning air hit me like a slap the moment I stepped outside—sharp and cold, waking me up in ways that no a
Grey’s POVI sat behind my desk, fingers idle against the cold mahogany surface, but my mind? It was a storm. The soft clicking of the clock on the wall was the only sound in my office, yet it felt deafening, as if it were mocking me for how distracted I’d become.Ivory.Her name whispered in my mind like a damn prayer and a curse at once.I’d told myself this marriage was just a contract—an arrangement, a strategy. But ever since the night we made love, something had cracked open in me. I couldn’t get the way she’d whispered my name out of my head, the softness of her lips against my skin, the way her body had curled into mine like we belonged together. It was just sex, I told myself. Just a lapse. But it didn’t feel like it.And that terrified me.I slammed a file shut harder than necessary, the sharp snap echoing through the room. My jaw tightened. No. No, I couldn’t let this happen. Falling for her would only complicate things. She wasn’t supposed to matter this much.“Mr. Grey?”
Camilla.I stared at them both—Grey and Bryce—with the kind of raw expectation that threatened to tear me apart. My voice trembled, though I tried to lace it with fire."Who the hell is Camilla?" I snapped. "What did you mean when you said I was her?"Silence. Deafening, suffocating silence.My heartbeat pounded like war drums in my ears. Grey glanced at Bryce, his mouth opening, then shutting again like a fish out of water. He looked… scared? No, stunned. I stepped forward, eyes wild. “Answer me!”Grey finally stammered, "Iv—I mean, Cam— I mean, listen, this isn't easy to explain."He winced as if even the name burned his tongue.“Stop looking at me like that and just tell me!” I screamed, the name Camilla ringing in my head like a curse. “Tell me what you know. I woke up in that hospital and I couldn't remember anything! And yes, I had to name myself Ivory or maybe my aunt gave me that name.”Grey scrubbed a hand over his face and then shoved Bryce forward like he couldn’t bear to
Camilla.At first, I thought it was just a voice in my dream—soft and distant, like someone calling to me from the bottom of a well. “Camilla,” it said. Gentle. Urgent.Then it came again, louder, slicing through the fog in my mind.“Camilla!”My eyes flew open, breath catching in my throat. The world tilted as I sat up too fast, and for a moment, everything spun. Cold air wrapped around me like icy fingers, and I blinked against the grey haze.Miri was crouched beside me, her hands trembling as they gripped my shoulders.“Camilla! Oh thank God—you scared the hell out of me,” she breathed, voice cracking. Her eyes were wide, glassy with tears that she clearly didn’t want to fall. “Don’t you ever do that again!”“I—” My voice came out hoarse, dry as dust. I touched my forehead, wincing as a dull ache throbbed behind my temples. “What… happened?”“You fainted.” She sniffed, wiping at her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Right in front of that damn grave. One second you were standin
Julia.I couldn’t stop shaking.My hands trembled as I poured a splash of brandy into the crystal tumbler. It sloshed over the rim, dripping onto the polished oak table, but that was the least of my problems. My mouth was dry, and the burn of the liquor was the only thing anchoring me to the moment.That idiot. That absolute, bumbling, thick-headed idiot.He got caught. After I paid handsomely, I might add — to make Rose go away, had somehow managed to get himself picked up by the police like a common thug. The very thought made my skin crawl. I pressed my palm against my forehead, dragging it down my face, smearing the sweat and brandy as I went.Worse, I’d heard the whispers.Rose wasn’t dead.They said she was in a coma, clinging to life like a weed in concrete, and the police were sniffing around like dogs who'd caught the scent of something rotting. My chest felt tight, and I struggled to draw in a full breath. If she woke up… if she talked—I downed the rest of the brandy in a s
PROLOGUEOnce, I’ve heard someone saying that you know it’s cold when you see a lawyer with his hands in his own pockets. It’s colder than that now. My mouth is numb and every breath is like ice.People are shouting and pointing torch lights in my eyes. In the meantime, I hugged this big wood like I’d die if I ever let go.A guy with a really loud voice and garlic breath panted in my ear. He was very strong and tried to ease my grip on the wood. I was too cold to move.He wrapped his arm around my chest and pulled me backwards through the water. More people that I couldn’t see, took hold of my arms, lifting me to the deck.Darkness surrounded me, thick and endless. “My goodness, look at her stomach!” someone shouted.“She's been shot in three different places!’Who were they talking about?People were shouting all over again, yelling for bandages and plasma. Then I felt someone slide a needle into my arm and put a bag over my face.“someone get me blankets. We have to keep her warm.”
Camilla. My hands trembled as I stared at the white sheet of paper in front of me. I’ve always heard this saying, that life is not a bed of roses, but now I understand exactly what it means. Until recently, my life was a bed of roses, but now all those roses have withered away, leaving me with only thorns.Dr. Mark’s voice echoed in my ears, confirming what I was scared to admit. “Camilla, I am so happy to announce that you’re going to be a mother. Congratulations dear.”Instantly I felt my entire body go numb, my heart was racing. This isn’t real. It can’t be. I am sure there’s a mistake somewhere.“What are you talking about?” I said, almost laughing at his statement. I just wanted to believe this was a prank and he was trying to pull my legs. I threw the paper onto his desk immediately, waiting for him to correct his mistake. “This cannot be my result. I would give you a few minutes to go back in there and bring my result.”Dr. Mike looked at me patiently, like he had seen this re
Julia.I couldn’t stop shaking.My hands trembled as I poured a splash of brandy into the crystal tumbler. It sloshed over the rim, dripping onto the polished oak table, but that was the least of my problems. My mouth was dry, and the burn of the liquor was the only thing anchoring me to the moment.That idiot. That absolute, bumbling, thick-headed idiot.He got caught. After I paid handsomely, I might add — to make Rose go away, had somehow managed to get himself picked up by the police like a common thug. The very thought made my skin crawl. I pressed my palm against my forehead, dragging it down my face, smearing the sweat and brandy as I went.Worse, I’d heard the whispers.Rose wasn’t dead.They said she was in a coma, clinging to life like a weed in concrete, and the police were sniffing around like dogs who'd caught the scent of something rotting. My chest felt tight, and I struggled to draw in a full breath. If she woke up… if she talked—I downed the rest of the brandy in a s
Camilla.At first, I thought it was just a voice in my dream—soft and distant, like someone calling to me from the bottom of a well. “Camilla,” it said. Gentle. Urgent.Then it came again, louder, slicing through the fog in my mind.“Camilla!”My eyes flew open, breath catching in my throat. The world tilted as I sat up too fast, and for a moment, everything spun. Cold air wrapped around me like icy fingers, and I blinked against the grey haze.Miri was crouched beside me, her hands trembling as they gripped my shoulders.“Camilla! Oh thank God—you scared the hell out of me,” she breathed, voice cracking. Her eyes were wide, glassy with tears that she clearly didn’t want to fall. “Don’t you ever do that again!”“I—” My voice came out hoarse, dry as dust. I touched my forehead, wincing as a dull ache throbbed behind my temples. “What… happened?”“You fainted.” She sniffed, wiping at her cheek with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Right in front of that damn grave. One second you were standin
Camilla.I stared at them both—Grey and Bryce—with the kind of raw expectation that threatened to tear me apart. My voice trembled, though I tried to lace it with fire."Who the hell is Camilla?" I snapped. "What did you mean when you said I was her?"Silence. Deafening, suffocating silence.My heartbeat pounded like war drums in my ears. Grey glanced at Bryce, his mouth opening, then shutting again like a fish out of water. He looked… scared? No, stunned. I stepped forward, eyes wild. “Answer me!”Grey finally stammered, "Iv—I mean, Cam— I mean, listen, this isn't easy to explain."He winced as if even the name burned his tongue.“Stop looking at me like that and just tell me!” I screamed, the name Camilla ringing in my head like a curse. “Tell me what you know. I woke up in that hospital and I couldn't remember anything! And yes, I had to name myself Ivory or maybe my aunt gave me that name.”Grey scrubbed a hand over his face and then shoved Bryce forward like he couldn’t bear to
Grey’s POVI sat behind my desk, fingers idle against the cold mahogany surface, but my mind? It was a storm. The soft clicking of the clock on the wall was the only sound in my office, yet it felt deafening, as if it were mocking me for how distracted I’d become.Ivory.Her name whispered in my mind like a damn prayer and a curse at once.I’d told myself this marriage was just a contract—an arrangement, a strategy. But ever since the night we made love, something had cracked open in me. I couldn’t get the way she’d whispered my name out of my head, the softness of her lips against my skin, the way her body had curled into mine like we belonged together. It was just sex, I told myself. Just a lapse. But it didn’t feel like it.And that terrified me.I slammed a file shut harder than necessary, the sharp snap echoing through the room. My jaw tightened. No. No, I couldn’t let this happen. Falling for her would only complicate things. She wasn’t supposed to matter this much.“Mr. Grey?”
Camilla.I didn’t tell anyone.Not old lady that has been friendly lately, not even Miri—no one. If I opened my mouth, they’d try to stop me. Maybe not out of malice, maybe out of fear or love or whatever, but it didn’t matter. This was something I had to do. Alone.The newspaper felt damp in my hands, crumpled and nearly torn at the edges from how many times I’d folded and unfolded it throughout the night. The image on the front page stared up at me like a challenge—her face, my face. That woman... she could be my exact replica, if not for the blank emptiness in her eyes. And there, in bold print beneath the photograph, was the name of the venue where it all supposedly happened.I held the paper tighter, slipping past the east wing of the mansion, careful not to make the floorboards creak. My heart thundered in my chest, screaming that someone would catch me, but no one did. The morning air hit me like a slap the moment I stepped outside—sharp and cold, waking me up in ways that no a
Camilla.The soft rays of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. I stretched lazily, feeling the remnants of a wonderful dream about Grey. Last night had been perfect. He’d held me close, kissed me with such intensity, and whispered promises of forever into my ear. It had felt so real, so right. I smiled at the thought of it as I slowly sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes.But as the haze of sleep lifted, something felt… off. I glanced around, noticing immediately that the space beside me was empty. The sheets where Grey had been just hours before were cold, undisturbed. I reached out instinctively, as if hoping to feel him beside me, but there was nothing. The bed was just a bed, and it felt like it was missing a piece.A small pang of disappointment blossomed in my chest. Where did he go?I stood up and pulled on my robe, then quickly made my way out of the room. My feet moved automatically, but my mind was clouded. I hadn’t expected him to be gon
Grey.What was she doing?Restlessly, I swept my gaze around her room, passing indifferently over the bed. I tried to pierce the darkness beyond, and focus on her bathroom where I knew she was. But the night was impenetrable. Earlier, I’d heard her splashing water. Then I’d heard sniffling. Now—nothing. Just the cry of a lonely owl.What the hell was she doing?It felt like she’d been gone for a long time, but I knew it hadn’t been more than ten or fifteen minutes. So why was I impatient? Patience had been a survival skill I’d learned long ago. But my mind was playing tricks on me—cruel, vivid tricks. I imagined her unbuttoning her blouse, baring her big, white breasts to bathe. I stood and began pacing, tugging at the crotch of my trouser. I wasn’t used to this kind of frustration.I was spoiled when it came to women. They always wanted me. All of them. I couldn’t remember one who hadn’t. But this one? She was different. A lowlife that probably doesn't even know her real name. I didn
Camilla.I’d never known boredom could be this loud. The silence of the mansion roared in my ears as I paced around my room, again, arms folded, lips pressed into a thin line. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating me with every passing hour. I wasn’t a prisoner, technically, but that’s exactly what it felt like. A golden cage wrapped in luxury, yes—but a cage all the same.Grey hadn’t come to see me all day. Again.I flopped onto the bed, rolling onto my side to stare at the cold, untouched spot next to me. My hand hovered over the sheets, then clenched into a fist. I was done being ignored. If Grey wasn’t going to give me attention, then I’d get it elsewhere—even if it meant sneaking out.When Miri, one of the younger maids, walked by my room with a tray of clean towels, I sprang to the door like a woman possessed.“Miri!” I called, soft enough not to draw attention, but loud enough to make her stop.She peeked her head in, cautious. “Yes, ma?”I stepped closer, dropp
Benjamin.I was seething.My hands were trembling, fists clenched so tightly my knuckles had turned bone white. I could still feel the sting of humiliation crawling under my skin, burrowing deep like a parasite I couldn’t kill. She threw me out—threw me out like I was some houseboy she caught stealing silverware.Julia.I could still see her face, jaw tight, eyes burning like acid when she stormed into the room and found Rose and me having sex in that bed. No words. No screaming at first. Just silence. And then hell broke loose. The sound of her voice still echoed in my ears—sharp, cold, controlled.“Get. Out.”At first, I thought she was bluffing. I sat up, dazed. “Julia, listen—”“No. No explanations. No fake apologies. Just go.”I’d never seen her like that. I wasn’t sure if it made me angrier or just… shocked. But when she turned and walked out of the room like I didn’t exist, like I didn’t matter, something inside me snapped.I didn’t even realize I’d started trashing the place u