Chapter 16
1132 Words
"Camila, what are you doing in my room?"
Alex's voice was tight, every word bitten back as he tried to contain his frustration.
"Is that all you have to say?" Camila asked, her voice trembling, head lowered like a child caught doing wrong.
On the floor, Isabella groaned faintly. Her vision blurred, and before she could steady herself, the room began to spin.
"Ella.....Isabella!" Alex rushed past Camila, dropping to his knees beside her.
"Ella, can you hear me?" He called again, his tone desperate.
Isabella coughed lightly, her eyes half-shut. Alex scooped her into his arms, laying her gently on the bed.
Camila's voice broke through the moment, raw and brittle. "What does this mean, Alex?”
Alex's patience was wearing thin. "What does what mean, Camila?" he snapped, rubbing his temples.
"You only see Isabella, the mother of your children!" Camila's tone rose, cracking with emotion. "You don't care about me. You don't even notice how much I'm hurting. It's always her, her, her!"
"Camila," Alex said flatly, "don't sound like you're the victim here."
Camila gave a bitter laugh. "Of course. It's fine. She's already where she wants to be, on your bed, in your arms. What's next, Alex? Another baby? Another replacement?"
Alex's jaw tightened. In one swift motion, he yanked her closer, pinning her hands to the wall. His eyes blazed into hers.
"Don't you ever try that trick on me again," he warned.
Camila turned her face away, her voice low and breaking. "Let me go, Alex. You can't keep Isabella close and keep me as your.....what.....mistress?"
"I only care because she's in my house," Alex said coldly. "She's my maid. Anything that happens here reflects on me. I'm trying, Camila. For us.'
"Us?" she whispered, tears spilling freely now. "Alex, the moment Isabella stepped back into your life, everything between us changed. You don't even look at me the same. I see the way you look at her, and those children. You've already chosen your family.
Alex said nothing. The silence between them was deafening.
"I'm leaving," Camila murmured, brushing away her tears.
As she reached the door, Alex's voice came quietly from behind her. "Just know someone is trying to destroy what we have."
Camila paused for a heartbeat, then replied, her voice flat and tired,
"It doesn't look like there's anything left to destroy."
She walked out without looking back.
Alex sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly ahead. Confusion. Regret. Something deeper he couldn't name.
Was it guilt, or the ghost of love long buried?
Alex placed a call immediately, but no one picked up.
He glanced at his screen, ten missed calls from the family doctor, seven from his assistant. His chest tightened. What the hell is going on?
Then it hit him, his phone had been on DND since the morning meeting.
Alex turned sharply toward Isabella, anger tightening his jaw. His chest heaved as he struggled to keep his temper in check.
I'm done with this woman, he decided coldly. Without another glance, he walked out of the room, his mind already on the kids. He had promised to be home early for breakfast with them.
But the moment he stepped into the hallway, something felt off. The maids were running around in panic.
"What's going on here?" he barked.
No one answered.
"Are you all deaf?!" Alex thundered.
Everything froze. The hallway went dead silent.
Finally, one maid rushed forward, trembling. "S-sir… the young miss—she fainted. And she's… she's covered in rashes."
Alex's heart dropped. "Where is she?" His voice cracked with barely contained fear.
"In the hospital," the maid stammered.
That was all he needed. Alex stormed out, his veins bulging with tension. He jumped into his car and sped off, ignoring every traffic light in his way.
Meanwhile, Camila drove straight to the club, a public one.
Though it was still daytime, the bar was dimly lit, cloaked in the illusion of nightlife.
She sat on a stool opposite the bartender. "Ten bottles of whiskey," she ordered flatly.
"Right away, ma'am."
As the bottles lined up before her, she called her assistant. "Tell Alex I'm drunk… and dancing with men at LGT Bar." Then she hung up.
Camila didn't bother with a glass. She drank straight from the bottle, each gulp burning down her throat, each tear falling faster.
"All these years, Alex…" she muttered, voice breaking. "Was it all a lie? Is it a crime to love you? What does everyone see in Isabella? Why not me?"
She drank until the world blurred and her laughter turned hollow.
Her assistant had arrived but stood frozen, too afraid to interfere.
Camila stumbled to her feet, swaying as she reached the dance floor. The music thumped, lights flashing over her tear-streaked face.
She began to dance wildly, surrounded by strangers, lost in chaos.
"Alex… where are you?" she whispered into the noise, her voice trembling between heartbreak and madness.
Not long after, a man joined Camila on the dance floor.
He was tall, dark-skinned, and handsome, the kind of man who carried confidence like a second skin. His shirt hung loosely, two buttons undone, revealing a gold chain that gleamed beneath the lights, a quiet symbol of wealth.
Camila felt someone's presence close behind her. The warmth of his breath brushed her neck.
"Alex… is that you?" she mumbled with a dizzy smile.
She laughed softly, spinning, swaying harder to the rhythm. Her mind was too hazy to see clearly.
The man turned her around suddenly and captured her lips in a hard, claiming kiss.
For a brief moment, she melted into it, until something snapped in her. Alex never kissed me.
Reality returned like a slap. Camila pushed the stranger away, stumbling slightly.
"Who are you?" she asked, voice slurred, finger pointing unsteadily at him.
The man chuckled, amused. "Have you forgotten me already?" His grin widened. "It's only been a few years, Camila."
Her knees wobbled, and she fell forward, he caught her easily.
From a distance, her assistant watched, conflicted. Is my boss having an affair? she thought. Or is this another one of her stunts to make Alex jealous?
Either way, Alex hadn't answered the phone. The assistant sighed and tried calling again.
Meanwhile, the man, still holding Camila, lifted her into his arms. Her head rested against his shoulder, unconscious now, her perfume mixing with whiskey.
He carried her upstairs to his private suite inside the bar.
Laying her gently on the bed, he brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"Camila…" he murmured, his tone soft but dark. "You've become even more beautiful. I really missed you."
He bent lower, his lips brushing hers in a fiery kiss, one that carried a silent message: You're mine.
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