In Shock!

Sebastian

I walked through the whole house, unable to believe she'd actually left. Camila and her little games. I'd sleep now, and when she came back, we'd have a serious conversation. She knew how much I hated childish behavior.

I slept practically the entire day. When I woke, I went to the kitchen. Everything was spotless, as if no one had been there. It was the staff's day off.

I called Lucas, my driver. He lived in the guesthouse near the pool — I liked having someone available at all times, since I sometimes went out drinking with the guys. I also never let Camila go out alone.

"You called for me, sir?"

"Yes. Where did you take Camila?"

"Nowhere, sir."

"Are you testing my patience, Lucas?"

"Absolutely not, sir."

"I saw you leave with her in the car. I asked where you took her, and you say 'nowhere'? Was I hallucinating? Did I not see what I saw?" I was so furious I was about to explode.

"That's not — Mrs. Camila asked me to drop her off near the metro station."

"She took the metro? Is that it?"

"No. She asked me to call her a taxi. I waited until it arrived and then came back."

"But you didn't follow the taxi? You don't know where it took her?"

"She asked me to come straight back, sir. She didn't want any trouble with you."

I walked away before I did something stupid. I couldn't punch my employee, even though I felt he deserved it. Camila had wrapped him around her finger. I'd never seen this manipulative side of her.

I went to the room where she kept her things. I'd never allowed us to sleep in separate bedrooms. She wanted to be married, so she had the obligation to sleep beside me — even if it was a sacrifice for her. I'd never cared.

Almost all her clothes were still there. She hadn't taken a single thing I'd bought her. I noticed only her simple clothes were gone. Camila never went out. Whenever she accompanied her famous friend somewhere, she wore Leticia's clothes. I never took her to events. I never wanted anyone to see her.

I remembered the dinners at my parents' house — every woman dressed as if competing in a pageant, and Camila always in something simple, barely any makeup. My mother constantly tearing into her.

"You should buy decent clothes for your wife, Sebastian. She looks like a vagrant." My mother was always cruel.

"Camila prefers simpler things, Mom."

The women at the table were always talking about big names in fashion.

"Mom, Bia Max is launching a new seasonal collection — I have to get something!" My sister chirped, annoying as ever.

"Don't you think you have enough clothes?"

"You can never have too many clothes, Daddy," Leandra pouted. "Besides, I could always get rid of some by giving them to Camila."

"No! Thank you, but no. I wouldn't even have anywhere to wear your clothes — absolutely not," Camila had replied, earning contemptuous stares from every woman at the table.

I looked at her small pieces of jewelry. She hadn't even taken those. I could have given my wife the finest, most expensive jewelry, but Camila was delicate and didn't like anything flashy. Maybe that was what set her apart — but in our world, people were valued by what they wore to important events.

A week passed with no word from her. I knew people sent by her lawyer had been trying to get me to sign the divorce papers. I should have been jumping for joy, but something about this felt off. I needed to understand what this woman wanted. Maybe she wanted me to promise something. I genuinely didn't know what to do. The house was unbearable without her. The food was making me sick — she was the only one who'd ever researched, consulted a nutritionist, and figured out the right diet for my condition. It had created a kind of emotional dependency. Even though I hated the fact that she'd schemed her way into marrying me, I had no idea what life would be like without her.

My grandfather was hounding me for news about Camila. My father had chewed me out so many times that I was avoiding both of them.

That weekend was the annual awards ceremony. For several years running, I'd been nominated as the fastest-growing entrepreneur — ever since I'd taken over the family business, we'd reached a whole new level.

My friends asked if I'd be going with Soraia.

"Her father can take her. She'll latch onto me once she's there anyway."

"Dude, I don't get why you put up with that. That woman is insufferable — she insults your wife and you act like it's normal," Pedro Henrique said. He couldn't stand Soraia. None of them could.

On the night of the gala, I headed to the hotel alone. I timed it so I'd arrive close to the awards — I didn't want to stay a second longer than necessary.

After winning first place for the third consecutive year, I was heading back to my table when a swarm of businessmen stopped to congratulate me. I was making small talk when I heard the commotion. Everyone turned in the same direction.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Camila was stunning. No — she was breathtaking. Every gaze in the room was on her. My friends closed in around me.

"Dude, who is that woman? I can't believe that's Camila!" Leone's jaw was on the floor, along with everyone else's.

She took the microphone from the famous actress Leticia Margareth and spoke, staring straight into my eyes — she expected me at the registry office tomorrow to sign the divorce. Her words cut me. She truly wanted to walk away from me.

After saying what she needed to say, she turned and left, the air hanging still behind her for a long time.

"Sir, we had no idea you were married! Are you divorcing that beautiful woman?" The reporters were in a frenzy — everyone wanted to know who this mysterious woman was, claiming to be the wife of the great Sebastian Medeiros.

Every man in the room — even the fake friends — was drooling over her. Camila had always been beautiful, but I'd never seen her like this, fully done up. She was, without question, the most stunning woman who'd walked through those doors tonight.

"How dare that woman confront you like that in front of all of society? The most important businesspeople in the city are here tonight!" Soraia hissed her venom.

"Save it, Soraia. Why don't you ask Sebastian why he spent the whole week running from her lawyer? Camila left his house after she was poisoned at a dinner — and he knows exactly where," Pedro Henrique fired back, visibly furious.

"Watch how you talk to me. You have no proof. You can't just go around accusing people—" I stammered, still dazed by Camila's image.

"No proof? Then why do you think she mentioned a medical report? All I want to know is whether you'll show up at the registry office tomorrow and set that girl free — or if you'd rather wait for her to go to the press."

I'd had enough of this gala. I headed for the door. Soraia tried to follow, but I shook her off — not before a reporter ambushed her.

"Miss Soraia, you've always implied you'd marry Mr. Medeiros. You've been glued to him this whole time, even though he was married to that gorgeous young woman. Were you two having an affair? Now that it seems she's divorcing him, are you going to make the relationship official?"

I turned and walked out before I did something I'd regret.

The next morning, I woke early and drove to the registry office. Afonso had sent me the address.

If this was what she wanted, then she'd have it. I just hoped she wouldn't regret it and come crawling back.

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