After a long drive through the Sterling family estate, the car finally stopped in front of a luxurious mansion painted in creamy white.
Camilla was escorted straight to the master's bedroom on the second floor. The room was lavishly decorated in black and white, making her casual outfit feel out of place. “Wow, they really went all out.” she murmured, eyeing a beautiful vase awkwardly placed in the corner. Who leaves such a valuable item lying around? “Quite rich and wealthy.” Taking in her surroundings, Camilla realized she would likely be spending quite a bit of time here, and it might even be an interesting chapter of her life. She settled into a chair, and crossed her legs, pouring herself a drink she found on the table. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed down the hallway, and the door suddenly swung open, revealing a man dressed in a custom suit, followed by a guard, Carter. He had thick, short hair, which fell across his face, hiding one of his piercing eyes. Beneath his strong, noble nose were delicate lips, resembling cherry blossoms. He exuded an air of elegance, and detachment, like a warning not to get too close to him. “What?” Camilla's eyes widened, and she couldn't help but laugh out loud. It was him!! The man who had thrown her out of his car, when she needed help. So he was the Crazy heir of Sterling, no wonder, no wonder he didn't think twice and threw her out of the car. Hearing her laughter, his previously eyes suddenly sharpened, piercing through her like a blade, carrying a hint of warning. Camilla, unfazed by his expression, relaxed into the chair, propping her chin up and smiling as she took in the scene before her. Once the guard closed the door and left, Camilla stood up. “Wow, it's only been a few days, and you seem not to recognize me. Buddy, are you also losing your memory?” Cyrus snorted coldly, “You're too noisy to be an arranged bride, aren't you scared of me?” Camilla raised an eyebrow, to be sure he was joking. “Scared of a Crazy man?” she chuckled. Cyrus's expression shifted and darkened, “You look smart, so I assume you should know your choice of words.” he said, his gaze lingering on her. “Why? Does it sting to be called a—” “Shut up!” Camilla thought since she had already been married into the family, they were in the same boat and were open to a mutually beneficial relationship. However his attitude says otherwise and was quite unappealing, so she shrugged deliberately. “Mr. Sterling, I didn't study much, and my brain isn't sharp, so, I'm not sure of what you're talking about, can you explain to me in detail?” Cyrus had never misjudged a person. From the moment he laid his eyes on her, he knew she wasn't one to be underestimated, though she looked petite and fragile. “I hope you don't regret agreeing to this marriage. Because right now, I can't stand you.” Camilla scoffed impatiently, “Seems like I forgot to mention that I dislike people who question my choice or decision. I know, you and your family need help from me, you better come down from your high throne and ask nicely.” Cyrus had encountered many people and women and they were so scared of him, that they didn't dare to stay in the same space as him, but the woman in front of him was not only in the same space, but was also rude and not scared of him. It made him angry, yet curious to know more about her. His gaze lingered on her, as he slowly walked towards her, closing their distance. Camilla frowned, “What do you think, you're doing?” Before she could react, he suddenly lunged forward, covering her mouth and pushed her to the bed. The sudden movement caused Camilla's heart to race wildly, but she couldn't move as she was pinned down firmly. “Make a sound!” Cyrus commanded, his voice low and urgent, leaning closer to her ear. He was also listening for any noise outside the door. Sure enough, his mother was eavesdropping, hoping to ensure the new bride would carry on the family line. “Make a sound, someone's listening outside.” He repeated. Camilla blinked in confusion, trying to process his words. “Haaahaaa?” she finally replied, hesitantly. Cyrus' expression darkened, “If you don't play along, I won't be responsible if she comes in here.” he warned. Camilla seemed to finally understand, as a hint of pink crept to her cheeks, and instead of feeling awkward or embarrassed, she felt a rebellious spark ignite inside her. Without thinking, she pushed Cyrus back, her tone defiant. “Why should I be the one to do it? Why don't you take the lead?” Cyrus hadn't expected that from this angle, the woman would actually look attractive. He was usually immune to beautiful women, no matter how sought after they were, to him, they were all quite the same. The two of them were locked in a struggle, one resisting and one overpowering. Cyrus gritted his teeth, as he pressed his elbow against her lower back. He disliked being close up with someone, but for the sake of playing his mother's game, he didn't mind. As his elbow pressed against her lower back, Camilla felt a wave of electric curse through her. Her lower back was the only weakest spot on her entire body, and it made her feel funny. “You! Ahh…” She instinctively let out a sound.The morning light filtered softly through the bathroom window as Camilla stepped into the bathroom, naked.The water was already running, steam curling around the edges of the glass as she stepped into the shower. She tilted her head back under the spray, eyes fluttering shut as warmth soaked into her skin.She didn’t hear him at first—Cyrus walking in. Not until she felt the cold air shift, the door sliding open.She turned her head just in time to see him step inside, naked and slow, like a storm approaching without warning.Their eyes met. “Cyrus?”He reached for her without a word, his hand sliding around the back of her neck, pulling her in. The kiss was immediate—wet, deep, possessive. Tongues tangling, teeth catching on lips. His hand slid lower, grabbing a fistful of her ass, squeezing like he needed to feel her in his palms.“You’re not playing fair,” he rasped against her mouth, voice hoarse and rough. “You walk around with that body like it doesn’t drive me fucking insane.
It was late in the night, Cyrus laid on the bed with Camilla tucked into his arms. The room was silent save for the slow hum of their steady breathing. It wasn’t long before Cyrus’s breathing changed— erratic and ragged. His brows furrowed deeply, as if in pain. Jaw tight and clenched, as sweat formed on his face.His nightmares were back. Suddenly, he was no longer in the safety of the room. He was back at the old hostel he shared with his brother, Conan, during their school days.Rain hammered the roof, cold and relentless. Midnight’s darkness swallowed the world outside. Conan sneaked out of the room with a small bag slung over his shoulders. Cyrus followed him, dread pooling in his stomach.Then, he found himself in a bush, near a clifftop. It was pouring heavily and the floor beneath him was damp with mud and dirt. At the cliff edge, Conan stood with his back against Cyrus, unaware of being watched. But he wasn't alone. Facing him was a boy, who looked to be his age, but h
Cyrus sat in the car with the engine running but unmoving, the rain smearing down the windshield like the past bleeding into the present.His fingers were tight around the steering wheel. He wasn’t sure if it was anger, regret, or exhaustion that made his chest ache more.He’d gone there thinking he could leave untouched. But her voice — cracked, frail, real — lingered.“I never wanted to become this… the mother you had to survive.”He closed his eyes. Camilla had been right. And maybe that’s what scared him the most — that someone could see right through the walls he’d built, and still want to stand there anyway.He pulled his phone from his pocket.Camilla was on his screen.He didn't call. He just stared for a long moment before setting it down and driving off into the rain.*****Katrina couldn't help the horror that washed over her face, “What? To who—?”Camilla took her time to explain to Katrina everything, from when she stabbed Louis to how she ended up in Cyrus's mansion.The
The weather was cool and it was drizzling by the time Cyrus stepped out of the car, but the unease in his chest had nothing to do with the weather. He took out his umbrella and opened it.He stared at the hospital entrance, the glass doors reflecting a man he barely recognized. Camilla's words haunted him. “Not for her. Not even for me. For you. Pretend all you want, you know the truth, deep down.”His fists clenched at his sides. His jaw tightened. Every instinct told him to turn around. Walk away. Keep the armor on.But his foot had a mind of its own, and he’d promised her. And a promise to Camilla wasn’t something he wanted to risk breaking.The hallways smelled like antiseptic and something faintly floral. It made his stomach twist. Hospitals are least of places he'd want to stay. They reminded him of things he tried hard to forget — loss, helplessness, words unsaid.A nurse recognized him and offered a polite smile. “Room 309,” she said, almost too gently.He gave her a curt nod
The room was bathed in soft light as the early morning rays peeked through the curtains. Camilla stretched out next to Cyrus, her cheeks rested against his chest, listening to the slow and even thud of his heart. He was silent, his fingers trailing the length of her spine in idle, peaceful and gentle strokes. The air was thick with the intimacy they shared, the kind that existed even without words.“What's going through your mind, right now?” Camilla broke the silence, her voice teasing and muffled against his chest.“How to take you again and again, until you're unable to get off the bed.” he teased, his voice near hoarse and throaty.Camilla's heart skipped, heat crawling down her spine.“Oh Cyrus, don't be a fiend.” “Congratulations, you've successfully turned me into one. I'm shamelessly a fiend, for you.”“Get off me!” She laughed, slightly hitting his chest.His lips carved up slightly, as his chest made a deep, low rumble. Not quite laughter — just the kind of sound only Cami
Inside the room was silent, except for the steady and slow hum of Cyrus and Camilla’s breathing. Camilla was tucked by his side, their legs tangled as they faced each other—forehead pressed together.“I didn’t know it could feel like that,” Cyrus whispered, voice still wrecked, eyes lost in hers.Camilla brushed a kiss over his lips, smiling softly. “Neither did I. Not like this.”He kissed her again—slower this time, the kind of kiss that made her feel like he was trying to memorize her. But when their lips parted, her expression shifted, a quiet seriousness settling behind her gaze.Cyrus noticed immediately. He leaned back slightly, studying her face. “Angel?”She raised her soft gaze at him, meeting his blue worry-laced ones. “Do you trust me?”His brows furrowed, “Of course I do, why would you even ask that?”Camilla hesitated, then breathed, “I feel like you don’t.”Cyrus sat up slightly, his grip tightening on her wrists. “Don’t feel that way,” he said, firmly. “I do trust you,