For a moment Camila saw a flicker of guilt in his eyes. But it was quickly dismissed.
Tears streamed down Camila's face as she repeated, as though trying to jog his memory, "I gave you my kidney." "And you were paid for it!" Lawson spat. "Paid for it?" she repeated, her voice trembling. "You think my kidney was for sale? You think I would have given it to you if I didn't love you?" "Stop being dramatic, Camila," Lawson said, his voice cold. "Our marriage was based on a clear understanding: I needed a kidney, and you needed financial stability. You can't claim ignorance now." "I thought I was your wife," Camila whispered. "I thought I was the person you loved. But I was just a means to an end, wasn't I? A way for you to get your health back?" "If that's the way you see it then, so be it." Lawson replied, his words devoid of any remorse. "You know I didn't sign up to be a broodmare or a kidney donor. I thought I was marrying a man who would love and respect me, not use me for his own convenience." Lawson shrugged. "Camila, you're getting upset over nothing." "You've destroyed me, Lawson. You've taken everything from me: my love, my trust, my dignity…" She trailed off, feeling drained of words. It was clear as day that her feelings didn't matter; her love didn't matter; nothing mattered to him. And it hurt her that she didn't realize this sooner. Now she was paying the price for loving a man so badly. "You're ungrateful," she croaked. "You're ungrateful for my kidney, for my love, my support, my sacrifices." Tears poured out like a fountain as she spoke, and Lawson looked away, avoiding eye contact. "Let's just make this clear, Cami. I don't want to divorce you as a token of my appreciation. Let's just have an open marriage." Camila laughed, the sound mirthless and filled with bitterness. "Fuck you and your open marriage. Do you hear me? Fuck you!" she spat, and her voice echoed all over the place. She was certain that everyone in the living room could hear. "Fine. If that's how you feel," Lawson shrugged, unbothered. "Maybe we shouldn't be together. But let's not forget, I've given you a life of luxury and comfort." . "You've given me nothing but pain and humiliation. And you'll regret every word you say." She declared and pushed past him, going for the locket beside their bedroom. Lawson gazed after her in confusion, wondering what she was up to. But then Camila grabbed the car keys and her phone and headed for the door. Lawson's confusion turned to alarm as he realized she was leaving. He quickly recovered and strode after her, grabbing her arm to spin her around. "Where are you going?" he demanded. Take your hands off me!" she spat as she struggled to broke free. She had to escape the toxic marriage. With quiet dignity, Camila turned and walked away, leaving Lawson standing alone in the room. The moment she stepped foot in the living room, her mother-in-law and Diane's attention snapped towards her, and Camila quickly wiped the tears from her face. Diane had already made herself feel at home, swirling a glass of water in her hand as Camila walked past. A triumphant smile still etched on her face. "Where are you going?" her mother-in-law sounded behind her, but Camila didn't stop. She kept walking, her eyes fixed on the door ahead. "I'm talking to you," she hollered, but Camila ignored her again. She could feel the weight of their gazes on her, but she refused to give them the satisfaction of a reaction. She pushed open the door, taking a deep breath as she walked towards the parking lot. Her focus was on getting as far away from him and his toxic family as possible, at least for now, until the fog in her head clears. She reached the car and yanked open the door, and as she attempted to slide into the driver's seat, a familiar voice called out. "Ma'am." It was the butler, his eyes widened in alarm as he realized Camila was about to drive away. He rushed to the driver's side door, pounding on the window. "Ma'am, please don't drive the car!" he exclaimed, his voice urgent. "It's not safe! The AVR system was just repaired a few days ago, and it hasn't been properly tested yet." Camila hesitated for a moment, her hand on the gearshift. But then her face hardened, and she put the car in gear. "I don't care," she said, her voice cold. "I'm not staying here another minute." The butler's face fell, and he stepped back as Camila pulled away from the curb. He watched in concern as the car disappeared into the distance, wondering if he should call Mr. Lawson and report the situation. Camila's eyes blurred as tears flowed down her cheeks. She gripped the steering wheel tightly, trying to focus on the road ahead. But her mind was a jumble of emotions, her heart heavy with the weight of Lawson's words. She couldn't believe what had just unfolded. Not only had he cheated, but he had reduced their relationship to a mere transaction. He even mentioned an open marriage now, of all times, after cheating on her. Camila's sobs grew louder. She felt like she was losing herself, like she was drowning in a sea of pain and heartache. She didn't know where she was going; she just knew she had to get away. Away from Lawson, away from his toxic family, away from the memories that haunted her. But she knew one thing—she would never go back to Lawson and never again subject herself to his cruelty, indifference, and the insults from his mother. She slid one hand off the steering wheel and wiped her tears away, but more poured out like a torrent, and she found herself breaking down into uncontrollable sobs. Marrying Lawson was the biggest mistake of her life. She was fully aware that Lawson was in love with Diane, yet when Diane rejected Lawson's marriage proposal, she accepted the arranged marriage offer from his father. Now she felt like a fool for entering a marriage devoid of love, in which she had to sacrifice a kidney in the name of affection. But what did she get in return for her sacrifices? A cold shoulder from Lawson, humiliation from his mother, and Diane getting her way all over again. The feeling of regret was suffocating, making it hard for her to breathe. As Camila drove, the city lights gave way to the dark stretch of highway. She had been driving for what felt like hours. The tears hadn't subsided, yet there was a numbness that had settled over her. She accelerated, the speedometer climbing higher and higher. The wind rushed past her, whipping her hair into a frenzy. But as she rounded a curve, the car's wheels suddenly locked up. The steering wheel jerked out of her hands, and the car skidded across the lane. Camila's heart almost leaped out of her chest as she kept slamming on the brakes, trying to get the car to slow down. But they didn't respond. "Come on, come on!" she hollered, hitting the panel with all the strength she could muster as though her life depended on it. Her eyes widened at the windshield, her legs trembling as she kept slamming on the brakes. All her attempts were futile. The car continued to skid, heading straight for the guardrail. "No, no, no," she mumbled, but it quickly turned into screams as panic set in. The highway was packed with cars, and Camila's skidding vehicle was heading straight for a tanker truck just a few meters away. The truck's large, cylindrical body loomed before her, a potentially explosive payload that made her blood run cold. Camila's screams grew louder as she frantically tried to regain control of the car. But it was too late. With one last ditch effort, she steered the wheel to the left, but the car still crashed into the side of the tanker truck with a deafening impact, sending Camila’s face slamming against the steering wheel. The sound of crunching metal and shattering glass filled the air as Camila's world went dark, accompanied by searing pain in her face.FEW MONTHS LATER The courthouse papers were tucked away in a drawer, a small stack of officialdom that now made Camila's life feel both more and less complicated. Less because she loved the feeling, the new place, and the time off work she got, even though she was practically a CEO. She's a workaholic, so this became a vacation—a much-needed break from work after her recovery. Now that she was officially Mrs. Antonio De La Cruz, the weight of everything had finally begun to settle. She was in the kitchen, humming softly when Antonio wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his cheek on her shoulder as he watched her slice an avocado. A simple lunch she decided to toss together. The place was quiet, just how they liked it—no bunch of staff running around unless it was during designated hours. They had agreed to keep it free of full-time staff, with cleaners coming only a few times a week. It was a simple luxury they both enjoyed; some nights they cooked together, but most nights,
Camila woke up feeling a heavy weight around her back, like the feeling of someone holding onto her. Looking down, she saw a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She didn't need to look to know who it was already. "Hola," Antonio whispered in her ear and kissed softly on her earlobe. Camila almost giggled, squeezing his arms that were around her stomach. As her hand skimmed the fabric, her mind instantly flashed back to the news, and her smile dropped. "We lost the little one," she sighed, trying to sound calmer than she felt. "The name Miguel would have suited him. I like imagining how he'll look in my head—half me, half you. He gets your nose. I prefer your nose to mine, and then he gets my blonde hair." "Camila," Antonio began, but she wasn't finished. "A male blonde would be nice in the family. I was also hoping he wouldn't take my personality, especially my temper. And I didn't want him to look like any of his grandparents. Ernesto—yuck." She recoiled and trailed off, star
The gunshots still rang in Camila's head, even though the sounds were long gone. She clenched her jaw, biting her lips so hard that she tasted blood. Emily wasn't moving. Perez was bleeding out. Her brain just... couldn't deal with what was in front of her. Everything felt numb.But then, she had to move. She was free, kind of, just to get rid of the cuffs and the duct tape. She started dragging herself. Her hands were still tied, the cuffs digging in, but she used her legs, pushing and wiggling across the muddy ground. Every inch hurt like hell, but she just focused on Perez.When she finally got to him, he was flat on his back, eyes half-open, breathing shallow and ragged. He was still alive but barely. She wasted no time and immediately dipped her cuffed hands, reaching into his pocket, hoping he had the key.She fumbled with the jagged edge of what felt like a key; her cuffed hands were awkward and stiff within the confines of his pocket. Her fingers, numb and sore, struggled to
The door burst open, and a swarm of police officers rushed in, flooding the room. Guns pointed, the whole room surrounded. Red laser dots danced across faces and chests.Everything just... stopped. The yelling, the arguing, the frantic movements—all of it froze like the air sucked out of the room.The cops fanned out as they took in the scene: the crumpled bodies on the floor, the vomit, and Alejandro heaving and coughing up whatever was left in his stomach.The officers' eyes then landed on Ernesto, who still had his gun pressed to Alejandro's head, and on Madison, who was standing there like a ghost, her hand shaking so hard the pistol looked like it might fly out of her grip. The chaos wasn't gone; it had just changed uniforms.***The outside air was a shock to Antonio's face: cold and thick with the sound of a dozen sirens all screaming at once. His hands were cuffed behind his back, and the metal bit into his skin. He was being pushed along by a cop who smelled like old coffee a
A couple of masked men swarm in, guns raised and ready. They were the remaining men of Alejandro stationed outside on the lookout. These guys moved with a quiet, practiced ease. The large room suddenly feels too small as they spread out, surrounding them completely.They ignored the bodies on the floor and the heaving Alejandro. All eyes and all gun barrels were on Ernesto. It was as if they didn't notice Antonio with a gun, or that he wasn't sensed enough of a threat. He just stood frozen, the pistol by his side.Ernesto’s glare was enough to bore a hole through Antonio’s skull. He kept his gun pressed to Alejandro's head, his hands steady as ever.Glancing over every face and seeing how ready they were to cock their guns, Ernesto gritted his teeth."Antonio," he muttered under his breath as he pulled Alejandro off the ground and hooked his arm around his neck.The masked men flinched, their gun barrels wavering for a fraction of a second. The silence returned, but this time it was d
"You're gonna frame me, and you're telling me to my face," Antonio said.Alejandro grinned wider, a smile that made the air feel heavy. "Why not? You're a smart guy. I figured you'd appreciate a little heads-up. A man needs to know his options."Before Antonio could respond, a new masked figure slipped into the room. He whispered something to one of the guards standing next to Alejandro on the right side, right next to Abuelo's body. And the two men made a switch. A shift change? Antonio didn't think that was necessary."This wine is boring me," Alejandro said with a sigh, holding up his half-empty glass. "Get me another one."The new masked man nodded, took the glass, and walked to the bar. He turned his back to the group; he looked like he was lost in thought for a bit before he reached for a bottle and began pouring.Antonio was positioned at the edge of the couch, never taking his eyes off the new guy. He was acting odd, slightly out of place, and too slow to fit the job.Though A