“Great. But I’ve got one more condition,” Dante said.
I blinked. “And what’s that?”
“Let me court you. Until I win your heart and turn it into a real marriage.”
For a second, the sheer audacity of it made me laugh. But the sound died in my throat, choked by the memory of Leon's arm cradling Cara earlier.
“Fine. Yes.”
After we hung up, I downed the rest of the scotch. The burn did nothing to ease the shaking in my chest. Leon’s indifference, the image of him holding Cara while I was nearly hit, replayed over and over like a broken reel.
My phone vibrated, bringing me back to the present. Atty. Thompson had emailed the drafted divorce papers. I skimmed through them, and it represented the cleanest cut possible, legally severing every tie, including financial and estate claims. Perfect!
I printed the divorce papers and took them to Leon’s study, where a stack of merger contracts lay in disarray. I slid them into those merger contracts, flagged the exact pages he needed to sign, and took them downstairs with me when I heard his car at the garage.
Leon strode in, already on the phone, deep into a discussion about his new franchise investments. He barely spared me a glance which was normal these days and headed straight for the stairs.
"Your assistant wanted you to review the Carver merger and sign the final documents tonight," I said before he could climb up.
It was a lie. I didn’t care. I needed his signature.
He groaned, rubbed his forehead, and pulled the papers toward him.
“Smith is on my ass about the financials. I need to review these for the third time.”
He sat, his hand hovering over the pages, when his phone rang and displayed Camilla’s name. His entire posture shifted; the stressed executive vanished, replaced by a panicked lover.
He answered, his voice instantly soft, “Cara? What’s wrong?”
Cara’s voice, though muffled, sounded breathless and urgent. I couldn’t grasp everything, but I heard the words – baby, cramps, doctor, I’m scared.
“Don’t move,” Leon hissed, gripping the phone tightly. “I’m on my way. I told you, if something happens, you call me immediately.”
He slammed the phone down, shoved the documents at me, and grabbed his car keys. His eyes were already on the door when he said, “Just sign the contracts for me, will you? I don’t have time. There is an emergency with one of the partners.”
Of course. It was always an emergency with Cara. It's why he was barely home. But it didn't matter. I'd be leaving soon.
“Leon, I can’t sign legal documents for you,” I stated calmly, my heart thrumming a silent prayer for him to just sign the papers I'd inserted.
I slid the thick stack back at him, tapping the flagged spots with a pen. He was so panicked, too rushed to truly read the content. He signed them quickly, one after the other.
“Done. Just drop those off with Smith in the morning. I’ll call him later,” he commanded, halfway out the door. “Don’t wait up.”
He didn’t even wait for my response and just rushed out. The last time he'd looked that genuinely worried about me was during the first few months of our marriage. It still stung, even though I'd begun to accept that that Leon was long gone. I took a deep, shaky breath and smiled. Everything was going as planned. And spent the rest of the night packing peacefully.
The next night we attended the Legacy Gala. Leon had insisted that appearances mattered. He steered me toward donors, flashing his practiced and blinding smile.
Minutes later, Cara appeared in an ice-blue gown, almost a copy of my custom-made ocean blue designer dress Leon had given me during our engagement. She moved straight to us, seizing Leon’s arm, while we were talking to a textile mogul.
“Leon! Sorry to interrupt,” she trilled, pulling him away. “I was just with your mother when a journalist cornered me about Camilla. They’re running a story about the car accident and… awful rumors.”
Leon’s jaw tightened. My eyes widened.
“What rumors? I handled the media that same night. The car accident didn’t go public,” Leon said in a low voice.
Cara widened her eyes, a perfect picture of panic.
“They’re saying Camilla gave a phone interview from the hospital… that the crash wasn’t an accident. That she was drunk and tried to… kill herself and the babies.”
The blood drained from Leon’s face. Only the three of us and the doctor knew what happened. Leon had paid a huge amount to seal the medical records and to silence the media. His business expansion couldn't handle bad press. Slowly, he turned on me, his face a terrifying mix of fury and fear.
“You did a phone interview?” he spat. “Only we knew about the babies. You leaked this to ruin us!”
I stood mute, paled with shock. I hadn't spoken a word to any journalist; the pain had been too profound to speak to anyone. Even until now, I was still grieving the loss.
“Leon,” Cara whispered, laced with fake concern. “Don’t blame her. Maybe the grief was too much. The reporter claimed Camilla said you refused to save the children. It sounded like a scandal.”
My eyes threw daggers at Cara. I blurted, “But I did not!”
Leon’s fury snapped. “You utter fool! You will ruin the business expansion!”
“Leon, I couldn’t even…”
“Shut up!”
He cut me off and raised his hand, ready to strike. Suddenly, his formidable mother, Eleanor Anders, appeared at his elbow, stopping him.
“Leon, stop!” she commanded in a low voice. “The entire room is watching. You will be a headline tonight if you don’t.”
She looked at Cara, then fixed her icy gaze on me. “Take Cara and start silencing those reporters. They are asking questions to almost everyone now. Camilla, come with me.”
Eleanor steered me toward a velvet-draped alcove, far from the cameras and thousands of guests. In the crowd, Leon mounted a dais and began a public denial, smoothing the story into nothing but a joke.
In the alcove, Eleanor gripped my arm, hard enough to bruise and making me winced.
“Why do you look so pale? Are the rumors true, Camilla?”
She didn't wait for an answer, tightening her grip until her nails dug into my skin.
“If you’re going to kill yourself, at least do it privately. Don’t involve the press.”
She pulled me closer to her, forcing me to meet her murderess eyes.
“Listen very carefully. The moment you walk out of here, you will smile and deny every word of this scandal. You will protect the Anders name, you will protect Leon and his business, otherwise, I will kill you myself.”
Cara suddenly appeared at the alcove’s edge, away from the photographers, with fake sympathy.
“It’s okay, Eleanor. Leon handled it very well. But Camilla… I saw you eyeing the champagne earlier. Please, don’t drink too much. Try not to hurt yourself again.”
Eleanor raised a warning eyebrow at me, then turned to walk back to the crowd. Cara moved closer and touched my chin with a single mocking finger, whispering, “Be careful, sister. People think you’re a murderer. They say you murdered those poor babies.”
Something snapped inside me. How dare she point fingers when she was the reason my babies died. Pain, shame, fury, and everything rushed through me, and I shoved her hand away, making me look aggressive and uncontrolled.
Cara shrieked as if I pushed her. Eleanor turned, wheeled back, and hit me so hard that I lost my balance and stumbled to the ground.
“You will not bring shame to this family!” Eleanor hissed, her voice shaking with disgust. “Not on Leon’s night! You even tried to harm your own sister. Are you that shameless!?”
I bit my lip to stop the yell and the tears, watching as she immediately rushed to Cara, pulling her into an embrace.
“Are you hurt, darling? Don’t worry. I will make sure Leon punishes that creature.”
Just then, Leon walked in. Instead of comforting me, or asking what happened, he didn’t even look my way. He went straight to Cara's side as she burst into tears like a fragile little girl.
My cheek burned where Eleanor’s hand had landed. I slowly stood, shaking and in tears, watching the two of them comfort the snake who had surely started the rumors. Then, I turned toward the back door before I lost my temper and throw my high heels at them and before anyone else noticed.
