Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 1 - Chapitre 5

Camila’s brushstrokes on the canvas looked so beautiful. She was painting white lilies, which she planned to give to her sister-in-law, Clara Xavier.Outside, Manhattan was besieged by the most ferocious blizzard in a decade. The wind howled behind the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, but inside the room, the temperature felt warm from the softly crackling fireplace.Camila Wilson took a deep breath. The distinct aroma of oil paint—a mixture of linseed oil and thinner—had always been an addiction for her.Camila’s hand moved gracefully, applying a thin stroke of pearl white to the lily petals she was painting. Clara would surely be happy to receive this gift from her.In this house, only Clara truly accepted her—aside from her husband, Damian Xavier, of course.Lady Beatrice, her mother-in-law, hated her. Ever since Camila Wilson entered this mansion with the status of Damian’s wife, Lady Beatrice had been hostile toward her. She never acknowledged her existence.Was it because Camila

New York in December is a beautiful sight for those with fur coats and warm homes. But for Camila Wilson, the city was a white monster trying to freeze her very breath.The first night after the expulsion was hell. Camila walked aimlessly, her feet growing numb inside thin flat shoes that were now soaked with melting snow. She carried only a small bag containing a sketchbook, a few brushes, and a wallet with less than a hundred dollars. All her credit cards had been blocked by Damian within hours."We have to be strong, little one," Camila whispered, clutching her stomach as it began to cramp.She ended up at a dimly lit bus stop on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Her body trembled violently. Every time a bus passed, splashing dirty slush onto her dress, she could only curl up tighter. She felt like trash discarded by the splendor of Manhattan, which glowed across the river.One Week LaterCamila’s condition deteriorated rapidly. She was now living in an abandoned old building under the Br

The atmosphere inside the luxury suite at the Savoy Hotel, London, felt suffocating to Damian Xavier. Although the room was spacious with a direct view of the River Thames, Damian felt as if the walls were slowly closing in on him. He had loosened his tie, the top buttons of his shirt were undone, and the glass of neat whiskey in his hand was nearly empty. A knock at the door was followed by Mark entering, carrying a file. "Sir, I have gathered the initial data regarding Sheina Blake as you requested." Damian immediately set his glass down and snatched the file. "Tell me she’s lying. Tell me she is Camila Wilson." Mark took a long breath. "Administratively, Sir... Sheina Blake is a different person. Her citizenship data shows she was born in a small village called Chipping Campden, England. She has a birth certificate, a record of attending primary school there, and even notes that she lived in an orphanage after her parents died in an accident when she was ten years old." Damian