Camila Smith Novels & Stories

Cami smiled brightly. “Hi.” Mateo looked at her calmly. “Hello.” His voice was deep enough to cut through the music. Cami gestured between them. “I’m Camila.” Mateo’s gaze flicked briefly to Ariana. Then back to Cami. “Mateo.” Ariana’s stomach twisted. Cami continued smiling. “Well, Mateo, you’ve been staring at my friend for five minutes.” Ariana nearly choked. Mateo’s eyes moved slowly back to Ariana.

She kept her head down, trying to ignore the unmistakable sounds that had ceased inside. She had worked with Camila long enough to be used to it, but it never ceased to be embarrassing. To the world, Camila Rodrigues was the “Pure and Innocent Goddess.” But the assistant knew the truth: Camila was insatiable and manipulative. If fans could hear the lewd moans of their “immaculate virgin,” the internet would crash. Half an hour passed—an unforgivable delay on a professional set—before the door finally opened. Camila emerged, walking with calculated slowness.

“Who are you looking at, Cam?” She forced a smile, cupping his face. “Nothing, babe. I thought I saw an old friend.” She kissed him. I stared at the stage instead—anger tempered into quiet resolve. When the show ended, Camila was invited onstage to speak. She glided up with the confidence of a woman who’d planned every step. The microphone was in her hand, the lights on her. She opened her mouth—and the big screen behind her shuddered to life. “Camila, please help me… please…”

The faint rustle of paper filters through the speaker. “I’m transferring all my share, every percentage point into a protected trust for Camilla .” The name slices through the room. Camilla. Our daughter. Greaves blinks. “You’re…what?” “You heard me,” Dominic says. “Camilla is the rightful heir to the Smith legacy. Until she comes of age, Liana Smith will serve as trustee and protector of her interests. I’ve already executed the transfer. It’s irrevocable.” The secretary confirms again, voice trembling. “The documents are here. It’s real.”

Everything about her, including her schedule, her location and her hobbies. Camilla smirked after scanning through the documents which had been delivered to her, then dropped them while taking a sip of the wine in her hands. "Sabrina Ventimiglia, from now on, I want to see how they will react when I finish with you" Camilla said to herself while a smirk curled up her lips.

“You must have been really desperate that you had to come find me in person.” Emery Hart had barely moved her eyes up to look at the woman standing in front of her. Camila Martin, the new sensational actress who had been making the headlines for quite some time now, was standing in front of her with a huge smile plastered on her face. “Miss Hart, it’s a pleasure to meet you here.” Emery acknowledged her with a nod, and Camila continued, "I have been sending my assistant to Miss Hart for quite some time now, but it seems like Miss Hart doesn't like the deal I am offering her."

The Smithson brothers, seated in the front row, exchanged proud, satisfied glances. As Kamila stepped down from the stage, she was immediately surrounded by a throng of reporters, each eager to know if she was really a Smithson and why she chose to run against her ex husband. “No questions for now please,” she said flashing them her best smile. “All questions would be answered at the Smithson charity gala tomorrow.” ***** The Smithson annual gala was in full swing the next evening, with everyone mingling and laughing together. Kamila looked absolutely stunning in that sky blue glittery dress, making her shine brighter than any chandelier in the room. She sipped her wine and smiled warmly wit

Jag finally asked. “Twenty minutes.” Camille replied confidently as she pulled away and looked up at Jag with an excited smile. “I don’t have much here...or anywhere actually.” Camille had come to New York with very little. Sure, Charlotte had helped her out but pretty much everything has been lost on the bombing and so anything Camille did have was donated. Even the crappy phone she currently had was given to her by Kal so she at least had something to allow her to stay in contact with Sid but she couldn’t access any internet services. So, when she said she only needed 20 minutes, she wasn’t exaggerating. Currently, Camille’s life fit into one bag.

She knew something about the consortium. "Fair questions, I suppose. I'm Camila Cueva, my sisters call me Mila. I'm a changeling like you, but from upriver. And, my sister and I are merely passing by on our way to find someone in Manaus. We can't help that our mothers want to take care of us…"