I was His wife. Now I am His Nemesis

Camille’s POV

“Honey, I bought this tie for you to wear to the elite club tonight,” I said, handing Marcus a red tie. He took it reluctantly.

“Thanks,” he said softly, almost too quiet to hear.

“The red matches my gown,” I said, smiling and showing him. He looked disgusted at the idea of us matching.

Marcus has been cold to me for months. He was never very affectionate, but this is worse. Now he hardly talks to me. The only time he shows any closeness is when he wants sex. I have been trying, but he is impatient and rarely returns my feelings. I keep telling myself it is just a phase and he will change.

Valmont Elite’s club parties were never meant to be warm, they were beautiful, expensive and cold like everything else in the city.

I stood beside Marcus as the camera flashed, my hands resting on his arm the way a wife was expected to. On our way I noticed he didn’t put on the red tie,he had a green one instead, I was a bit disturbed.

“Smile.” Marcus murmured without looking at me. 

I smiled.

The estate was full of familiar faces. Bank heirs, council members, women in silk and diamonds, men who judged people by bloodlines and money. Everyone knew each other. Everyone was watching.

Marcus had been distant all evening. He barely spoke to me unless someone was watching. When he did, it felt forced, like a role he was tired of.

I saw Fiora almost right away. Maybe it was because the color of her silk dress matched my husband’s tie, I brushed it off as coincidence. She was popular and knew almost everyone in town. She married one of the richest men in Valmont.

She stood across the room, laughing quietly at something someone said, her hand lightly on her husband’s arm. She looked so Elegant.

Her eyes met mine for a moment. She smiled, but not kindly. Marcus stiffened beside me and I felt it.

“I need a drink,” he said suddenly. “Stay here.”

Before I could answer, he was gone.

Ten minutes passed. He was still not back. I tried to ignore the tight feeling in my chest.

People started moving toward the ballroom. The music got louder and Conversations grew.

Then I noticed Fiora was gone too but I didn’t think much of it.

I was tired of the party, tired of pretending to smile. I wanted fresh air. The hallway led to the garden pavilion behind the estate.

The night air was cool. I heard voices as I walked.

I heard Marcus’s voice. I slowed down and then I  stopped.

They were in the pavilion, half hidden by shadows and vines. I couldn’t see them clearly, but I didn’t need to.

I heard her laugh. It sounded soft and close. It was Fiora. 

“Someone might walk in,” Fiora said, her voice low and teasing. “You are being careless.” She touched his chest. They were so close. My heart started to race.

Marcus chuckled. “No one is watching. They are all busy at the party.”

“You are married,” she said lightly.

“So are you,” Marcus replied.

Then I heard movement, sound of fabrics and a soft gasp.

My fingers curled into my palm. I stepped closer but stayed hidden.

“I don’t feel guilty. Do you?” Fiora asked.

Marcus didn’t answer at first. He slid his hands inside her dress and cupped her breast. Then he said, “Why would I?”

My heart pounded.

“I don’t feel guilty because I don’t love my husband. I married him for status. If my plan works, I will take all his wealth,” Fiora said.

“Poor thing,” Marcus said. He kissed her neck and she gasped softly.

“Do you love your wife?” Fiora asked.

The question hit me like a knife. There was a long pause.

Then Marcus laughed.

“No, I don’t,” he said.

“She’s useful,” he added. “She’s beautiful, smart, and has good genes. That’s all that matters.”

I could barely breathe.

“She was never meant to be more,” he said. “I married her to give me heirs and stay quiet. She hasn’t conceived for three years. I will discard her soon.”

My ears rang and My body felt frozen.

Fiora hummed softly. “And she thinks you love her.”

“She believes what I let her believe,” Marcus said. “Camille is obedient and predictable.”

Fiora laughed. “Oh, poor thing.”

Something inside me broke.

I stepped forward, anger burning through the shock. My heart raced, and my vision blurred.

I was going to confront them. I was going to scream and I wanted to ask him how long. The man I loved, the one I gave my body and soul to for three years, had shattered my heart.

I took one step closer. Then a hand grabbed my arm. I didn’t know anyone was there which means I wasn’t the only one who saw them.

“Don’t. It’s not necessary,” a quiet voice said.

I tried to pull away but the grip was tightened. It didn’t hurt, but it held me firm.

“If you go in now, you lose everything. Wait, and you will gain control.”

“Let go of me,” I hissed, turning to see who stopped me.

I froze. The person holding me was someone I never expected.