MARRIED TO THE WRONG MAN

Chapter 2

Camilla's pov

The camera lens is a predator, and the morning after my wedding, I was the bait.

Less than twenty‑four hours after signing my life away, I stood beneath the glass ceiling of the Pierre Hotel’s bright atrium, wrapped in silk and lies, posing for an exclusive Vantage magazine spread.

The city outside was waking up. Inside, the performance had already begun.

“Lean in closer, Camilla. Let’s see that ‘newlywed glow’ everyone is talking about.”

‘Newlywed glow.I wanted to vomit’

The photographer’s voice was cheerful, completely unaware that my jaw ached from holding in the urge to scream.

Sunlight poured down on us, turning the marble floors into mirrors. Everything looked perfect. That was the problem.

Ethan’s arm slid around my waist, his hand warm against my dress. To the world, we were Tech's golden couple, it looked intimate. To me, his touch was a brand.

“You’re stiff, darling,” he murmured, his breath brushing my ear. His voice was smooth, almost tender, but his eyes stayed sharp and unreadable. “Try to look like you enjoy it. This is for the stock price, remember?”

“I’m doing my job,” I whispered back, smiling flawlessly for the lens. “Try doing yours without the commentary.”

The interviewer, a sharp‑eyed woman named Sarah, leaned forward, interest glittering in her gaze. “There have been rumors for years about a rivalry between you two. People said you couldn’t be in the same room without lawyers present. How do we go from that to… this?”

Ethan didn’t hesitate. He laughed, warm and charming, the kind of sound people trusted without question. He reached for my hand and laced our fingers together. His skin felt convincing. That scared me.

“Passion is still passion, Sarah,” he said, looking at me like I was the only woman in the world. If I didn’t know him, I might have believed it. “We’ve always been intense. People mistook that for hatred. But the truth is, I’ve never met anyone who challenged me the way Camilla does. I couldn’t imagine leading Aetheris without her beside me.”

Nausea rose in my throat, but my father was watching, ten thousand jobs were watching and so was the orphanage.So leaned into him, resting my head on his shoulder like a devoted wife. “It’s true,” I said softly. “We push each other. The shift from rivals to partners felt… natural.”

“Some critics say this is a marriage of convenience to stop the takeover,” Sarah pressed.

Ethan turned toward me, his face close enough that I could feel his breath. “Does this look like convenience to you?”

Before I could react, his hand slid to the back of my neck and he pulled me into a kiss.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t private. It was a statement—controlled, deliberate, meant to be seen. The cameras exploded with flashes. For a brief, dangerous second, the heat felt real, and my heart stuttered—not from love, but from how convincing he was.

When he pulled away, Sarah looked stunned, and the photographers were practically vibrating.

“I think that answers your question,” I said calmly, smoothing my hair as if nothing had happened.

“Alright, that will be all for now.” Sarah smiled.

The ride back was empty in a way that hurt.

The moment the SUV doors closed, Ethan dropped my hand like it burned him.

I pulled my phone from my bag, needing something to occupy my shaking hands. The screen lit up with notifications - dozens, then hundreds.

My stomach sank as I scrolled. There they were: photos and short clips from the shoot, every kiss, every staged touch, already circulating across X. The captions were merciless, framing us as the “Golden Tech Couple” and speculating about the chemistry that was supposed to save Aetheris.

My fingers froze over the screen. Comments poured in—some praising the show, others mocking it, all of it public, permanent.

Every intimate second we had performed for the cameras was now a weapon in the hands of a million strangers. I felt exposed, raw, and furious, all at once.

Ethan pulled out his phone too, his expression flattening into boredom. Silence stretched between us until his phone rang.

He checked the screen and sighed. “It’s your father.”

He put it on speaker.

“Ethan. Camilla.” Julian’s voice filled the car, satisfied in a way I hadn’t heard in years. “The interview is already trending. Markets reacted immediately. Shares are up four percent. Excellent work. You both looked very convincing.”

“We did what was necessary,” Ethan replied, his voice dull.

“Good. Keep it up. The board is watching. Don’t let the act slip.”

The call ended. Ethan tossed the phone onto the seat.

“Convincing,” he repeated with a bitter smile. “He doesn’t care if we hate each other, as long as the numbers look good.”

“Welcome to the family,” I said quietly, staring out the window. “You knew the cost.”

The moment we stepped back into the penthouse, the war resumed.

The elevator doors closed, and just like that, the golden couple disappeared. I headed for the kitchen, my head pounding, and poured myself a glass of wine. I heard Ethan behind me.

“I’m bored,” he said, his eyebrows raised.

“Read a book,” I replied. “Or a financial report.”

“I was thinking of something more interesting.” he chuckled and then picked his phone to make a call.

I ignored him until twenty minutes later, when the elevator chimed again.

Two tall women who were barely dressed stepped out, their heels clicking sharply against the marble.

“Ethan!” one of them laughed, throwing her arms around his neck.

I froze, my wine glass hovering mid‑air. “What is this?”

Ethan looked at me over her shoulder, smiling like he’d won something. “This is my floor. And these are my interests. Since we’re so happily married, I thought I’d celebrate the interview.”

He led them to the velvet sofa. Drinks appeared. Laughter filled the room. He kept watching me the entire time, his hand sliding up one woman’s thigh on purpose.

“You’re pathetic,” I said quietly.

He laughed. “Go to your floor, Camilla. The Ice Queen doesn’t belong near heat.”

I didn’t respond. I grabbed my tote, shoved my laptop inside, and walked straight to the elevator. I didn’t stop on the forty‑ninth floor. I went all the way down.

I needed air. I needed something real.

I drove all the way to Greenwich Village. As the glass tower faded behind me, my chest finally loosened. I texted my boyfriend, Liam: I’m coming over. I need you.

His apartment was warm and cluttered. When he opened the door, concern filled his eyes.

“I saw the interview,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

I sank into him. With Liam, I wasn’t a stock price or a strategy. I was just Camilla.

“He’s a monster,” I whispered, tears finally breaking free. “I don’t know if I can survive five years.”

“We’ll find a way,” he said softly, leading me inside.

Hours later, the city hummed outside the window. Liam slept beside me, peaceful. For the first time in weeks, I felt calm.

I reached for my phone, meaning to check the server logs one last time and my hand mistakenly knocked Liam’s phone off the table.

It landed face‑up. The screen lit up and then… An encrypted app—one I knew too well.

The message read: Vance is there. The Q3 encryption key is still missing. Get it tonight.

My breath stopped.

I picked up the phone, my hands shaking. The sender name was visible.

V. Sterling — OmniCorp Liaison.

Vanessa Sterling. Ethan’s cousin, who decided to become our enemy at Aetheris.

I narrowed my eyes, looking at the man beside me as I tried to connect the dots.

“Liam?” I whispered.

His eyes opened slowly and met the phone in my hands.

He observed my face and knew something was wrong. The warmth vanished instantly.

“Camilla,” he said carefully. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“You’re working for OmniCorp,” I said. “The last six months—was all of it a lie?”

“I care about you,” he said smoothly. “That part was real. But Aetheris is dying. OmniCorp can protect you. We can leave all this behind. Just give me the key.”

I stepped back, nausea crashing through me.The room so in.My husband brought women home and my boyfriend wanted to destroy me.

“Get out,” I said.

“Camilla—”

“Get out!” My throat dried up instantly, making my saliva turn bitter.

I didn’t wait. I grabbed my coat and stumbled outside, barefoot, betrayed with no where left to hide.The cold air hitting me hard but I didn't care. I couldn’t breathe.