Scorned Ex Wife Novel Camille Novels & Stories

The luggage crashed into a side table loudly, and gasps echoed immediately from the staff. “You don’t get to act proud after leeching off my brother for five years,” Camille spat viciously. "He leeched off me!!" Selene yelled back. "I really are crazy and ungrateful, you bitch!" Vivian stepped forward and threw a hard slap across Selene's face, her eyes spitting Venom. The workers gasped. “Call Adrian,” She ordered Camille coldly. “Let him deal with his wife.” Camille smiled wickedly while dialing immediately.

She glanced at Jocelyn and asked Skyler with a cutesy smile, "Skyla, who is she?" When Jocelyn heard that Camille called Skyler so intimately, Jocelyn felt disturbed somehow. But Jocelyn wasn't that narrow-minded. She just glanced at Camille and kept silent. Skyler introduced Jocelyn to Camille, "She's my wife, Jocelyn White!" Camille fell into a trance, but soon she nodded at Jocelyn with the same cutesy smile, "Hi, Jocelyn!" Jocelyn's expression changed slightly. She felt more disturbed!

I muttered. After I returned from the shower I received Camille's message. “I met that ex-boyfriend of your wife, and trust me, he has bad intentions for you all” I tried calling her, but she wouldn't pick up. I had gone to bed barely touching Stephanie because I was worried. I left early the next day, arriving at Camille's place. “I knew you'd come,” she said immediately she opened the door. I walked in. “Tell me where did you meet Maison” I asked quickly.

"Mariella really knows how to play this game, ma'am. She may be sweet and timind, but be very careful with her. Personally, I don't think she's someone to mess with. There is something dark hidden beneath her kind features." "Well, she's the one who needs to be careful. Because I'm going to make her pay for her sins. Both she and my husband will suffer the consequences of what they're doing to me. I am going to be their biggest karma," she declared. "That's right, ma'am. They hurt you and ruined your dignity. You should make them pay for that." "I will," she answered in a determined tone. "Please get her number for me. I'll call her for something very urgent. "

Controlled, deliberate, beautiful even through a cheap intercom speaker. Vivienne. "Camille," she says. "I know this is not what you want. I need five minutes. Please." I stand at the intercom with my hand on the button and I think about everything. About the hotel and the screenshots and the lawsuit and Martin Raymond and Tasha and Isla and Claire and a three year old boy named Evan and a hospital bed and a letter and a wedding anniversary spent falling for the wrong person's husband in the best possible way. I think about what Vivienne said in that 3am message.

Camille's eyes were cast down at the floor, her shoulder's slumped in defeat, as she sniffed and wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue. Sean's concerned gaze was drawn to her, his eyes locking unto hers as he noticed Camille's sudden change in demeanor and asked, “Hey, Camille is everything okay?” Camille hesitated, moving her eyes up to meet Sean’s. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this, Sean. My husband…I mean, my ex-husband he chose my sister over me, his wife.” She said, her eyes welling up. “I thought we had a perfect marriage, but…” she paused clinging to her wedding ring.

The Ex-Wife Camille woke to the quiet rhythm of Julian’s heartbeat beneath her cheek. The penthouse was still dark, save for the orange city light spilling through the windows. For a moment, she pretended they were normal—just two lovers tangled together, with no contracts, no secrets, no scars. But reality was never so kind. Last night had felt different. Too different. He hadn’t touched her like a man trying to possess her, but like one who feared she might vanish. And that scared her more than any of his threats ever had.

Or Rose's scandals? A waiter passed with champagne. Camille exchanged her empty glass for a full one, steadying her trembling hands. She should move away. Should minimize the risk of direct interaction. Should protect the revenge plan she and Victoria had executed so meticulously. Instead, she drifted closer, drawn by something stronger than caution. Not love, that emotion had burned away months ago. Not forgiveness, that was beyond her now. Perhaps simply curiosity about what had become of the people who had once been her world. She hadn't counted on her mother's uncanny ability to sense when someone was watching. Before Camille could retreat, Margaret turned, eyes sweeping the crowd before

I felt a sharp tug on my elbow, and suddenly I was being steered toward the heavy velvet curtains of the sunroom, away from the prying eyes of the elite. "You look pale, Clara," Camille said, her voice dropping all the professional pretense the moment we were alone. "Is the morning sickness hitting you that hard? Or is it the guilt?" I pulled my arm back, smoothing the pink silk of my dress. "What do you want, Camille? Go back to counting the appetizers." She stepped into my space, smelling of expensive smoke and malice. She was taller than me in her heels, looking down at me with a smirk that told me she’d already won the game.

She hoped the boss wouldn't be so clueless as to marry a harlot as Camille. “Vino, how are you? How was your trip?” Camille asked Vino. She sat down on the table in front of him, with her legs opened to invite him in. Vino noticed that she wasn't putting on any panties. It wasn't new to him. Camille has always been one to seduce him at every given time she got. He couldn't even count the number of times he had taken her in his office up against the table. Is such an irony that after enjoying such luxury from Camille, he was now the one seducing Skylar into his life and bed…