CAMILLA'S POV
Father's mansion was grey this morning; the clouds were gloomy, too. It reminded me of my situation, I could feel rage searing through my skin.
The urge to make Isabella disappear increased daily, and today, it was overwhelming. That little snake. Everyone called her the bastard but I called her a thief.
I loathed everything about her: the way she would sit back so meekly even when she was attacked, the way it was obvious she didn't belong in any room I was in. Her boring white-washed hair and pale blue eyes made her look attractive in contrast to my own tan skin.
She didn't smile much; she didn't throw fits like I did when I did not get what I wanted. She didn't even care about parties or Paris, all my Louboutin and Birkin bag collections.
She just sits in the board roo
