The Taste Of Lust

Kamille

Hell burned right before my eyes.

And no, it was not some fiery hot pit. It was in the form of a towering, delicious man who my entire life revolved around, and the divorce papers in his hand. The deep blue of his eyes burned colder than artic glaciers, pinning me with an intensity more dangerous than hate, like I was nothing but filth in his path.

“Sign them. Now.”

He threw the papers across the bed and they fluttered in front of me, taunting me with words boldly spelled on them.

Divorce.

My blood had fizzled out, leaving my veins empty. A loud, repeated knell of doom reverberated from one ear to the other, but I was frozen stiff. I refused to believe this was happening. I had never filled myself with delusions of Ezekiel ever loving me, but I had truly believed we could both tolerate our obligations to each other.

Perhaps I was just blinded by love.

“You cannot just order me to end this marriage, Ezekiel.” I said in a trembling voice. “I am not one of your employees. I am your wife, and I deserve the barest bit of consideration at least. I just buried my grandmother three hours ago. I am already grieving.”

A cruel glint entered his eyes as he tilted his head at me. “What makes you think you deserve that? I have no time to waste exchanging words with you, Kamille. Sign the papers now that I ask nicely. Don't fucking piss me off.”

A spike of fear cracked down my spine.

The fear wasn't just for me. It was for the innocent baby slowly forming in my womb. One that I had to protect with my life, one that he had no idea about. My trembling hand rested on my abdomen, but of course, he didn't care enough to notice.

“I will not sign them.” I said, strengthening my voice.

He let out a dark chuckle that sent the temperature of the room various degrees lower. He raked a big hand through his dark hair, sending strands falling out of the slicked-back hairstyle. His other hand loosened his tie.

When he looked back at me, a vein was throbbing in his forehead, promising me that he was close to exploding into an ugly fit of rage.

“You will sign the divorce papers, Kamille.” He nodded darkly. “Your old fart of a grandmother was the only thing fucking holding us together. Now she's dead, thank the bloody heavens, and this marriage is going to follow her to the darn grave.”

Tears burned my eyes, turning my vision blurry.

How could he speak about a poor old woman in such manner? She was still warm in her grave, yet this was how he spoke about her, to my face. Not even a slap across the face could hurt worse than this.

“Don't blame my grandmother for your decisions.” I whispered. “You're not breaking this marriage because of her, you're doing this because of Ellen. You never got over her, did you? It's pathetic that after three years of marriage—”

“Shut your fucking darn mouth, Kamille!” He slammed his fists on the mattress, “You have no right to utter her precious name through that foul mouth of yours! She's the woman I've always loved! I want her in my life, not a free-loader like you! You can resist all you want, but I will make you sign those papers. It's up to you.”

He looked unhinged, I had never seen him like this.

His anger was usually cold, like the still waters of the sea hiding the vicious creatures lurking underneath. But now, it was a raging tempest.

How could I love such a man? Our marriage had been an arranged one, but the moment I caught sight of him for the first time, I was arrested. He was sculpted by the gods, a product of superior breeding and rare genes. He wielded power, influence and confidence. A man women scrambled for without shame or dignity.

So I fell helplessly, with no one to catch me. He, on the other hand, was already in a relationship with Ellen, my half-sister. She held his heart in her palms.

Why not? She was a skilled violinist, elegant, graceful and famous among the elite circles of the royals and billionaires of London. She was a white swan, pure and lithe, the epitome of feminity. At least that's how it seemed from the outside. Her true self, was terrible, twisted and ugly. No one but me seemed to see that.

Ellen was studying in France at the time of my engagement to Ezekiel. His grandfather and my grandmother were lovers, but could not be together for undisclosed reasons, and decided to bind themselves through their offspring, settling as best friends instead.

I fulfilled my grandmother's last wishes to give her peace in the last years of her life. Ezekiel, on the other hand, had to marry me to become CEO of the powerful Reid Conglomerate. It was a deal solidified since we were mere children, after I was adopted into the powerful Manor family.

“You used me. And this is how you end things? No regard for my grief, no ounce of respect, nothing—?”

“—oh, he has given you plenty of respect, Kamille.” A nauseous voice snapped from the open door. My eyes whirled to the side, and it was Ellen, my half-sister and archenemy. “If it were up to me, this would have been done and over with ages ago! Isn't that right, baby?”

She cast a sultry smile at Zeke, strutting straight into his strong arms. His face underwent an instant transformation, from rageful to serene, his eyes following every movement of hers like he was transfixed.

“You're far more effective at dealing with difficult leeches, baby.” He held her closer, running his aristocratic nose along her smooth cheek.

It felt like an invisible foot was stomping my heart into a splatter.

Her fingers massaged his muscles, “Oh, you feel so tense. What kind of bloody woman did you get mixed up with, my goodness.” She sent me a contemptuous, dirty and repulsed glance. “Here, let me kiss it better.”

She went on her tiptoes —even with her skyscraper heels— and slanted her lips against his. He held her tighter and deepened the kiss, their mouths moving hungrily and in sync, devouring each other right in front of me. The tears that were burning in my eyes finally spilled onto my cheeks, making wet paths down my chin.

My throat constricted in a fight against the sobs pushing upward, and my breaths trembled.

It dawned on me then.

I had no place in this marriage. I could refuse to sign the divorce papers, but I could never stop Ellen and Ezekiel from humiliating me, parading themselves in my face. I did not deserve that. My unborn child, did not deserve such a home.

Only once, had Zeke and I shared this bedroom which he was currently desecrating. Perhaps something had gone wrong with him and Ellen that night, he got drunk and forced himself on me. I remembered the pain, the fear, the violation of my body that I felt. But the love I felt deluded me from seeing the monster that he truly was.

So I had held him, silently crying when he spilled his seed into me, whispering Ellen's name in my ear.

A part of my soul went permanently black since then. Dead.

He remembered nothing of it. But here in my belly, a lifetime reminder grew, innocent and pure. I would give the child my all, and I had to start by giving Zeke what he desperately wanted. A divorce.

I picked up the pen and gathered the scattered papers in trembling hands. They paused their snogging to look at me in triumph.

Ellen let out a snort, “There you go. Not so difficult now, is it? Anyway, everyone is waiting for grandma's will to be read, back home. You're delaying us.”

I ignored her, wiping my sweaty palms against my drab black dress. When I was done, I straightened up and dropped the pen, barely holding in the tears, yet, my voice was strong when I spoke again.

“You do not have to worry about seeing me again, Ezekiel. I will come get my things tonight.”

He barely acknowledged that I spoke, all his attention was focused on the signed papers. I picked up the tatters of my heart, and walked out of the bedroom.