
Invisible Wife, Undying Love
For ten years, I was the invisible Mrs. Perry, the woman everyone mocked for clinging to a man who openly despised her. They called me pathetic, a social climber with no self-respect.
But they didn't know the truth. My devotion wasn't for Cameron; it was for his brother, Jessie, the man I truly loved, who supposedly died a decade ago. My ten-year pact to protect Cameron for Jessie was almost over.
Then, Cassandra Foreman, Cameron's ex and the woman he still loved, made a comeback. She was in an accident, and Cameron was ready to risk his life to save her. I stepped in, donating my rare blood, collapsing from the effort.
Cameron never came to my side. Instead, he brought Cassandra home, ordering me to care for her. She tormented me, framing me for her self-inflicted injuries, and Cameron, blind with devotion, punished me. He threw me out in the rain, accused me of trying to kill her, and even tried to drown me.
Why did I endure this humiliation? Why did I stay, even when he told me he would never love me, even if I died for him?
Because I had a promise to keep. But now, the promise is fulfilled. I' m going to find Jessie.
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Chapter 5
When Claire reached the top, her legs gave out. She was so pale she looked translucent.
She pushed herself up, her body trembling violently, and held out a small, embroidered pouch to Cameron. A protective amulet.
"For... you," she rasped, her throat raw. "I need... to go to the back courtyard."
She had to see Jessie' s lamp.
Cameron took the amulet, his fingers brushing against hers. He said nothing, simply nodding.
She limped toward the secluded hall, each step an agony. Cameron' s eyes followed her, the amulet clutched tightly in his hand.
When she entered the small prayer hall, she froze.
Cassandra was there. She was toying with Jessie's ever-burning lamp, a smirk on her face.
"So devoted," Cassandra mocked. "Climbing all those stairs for him. Does he even care?"
Before Claire could react, Cassandra did the unthinkable. She yanked the lamp, sending it toppling over. Then she screamed and threw herself against the wall, hitting her head hard.
"Help! Cameron!"
He burst into the room just in time to see Cassandra sliding down the wall, a trickle of blood on her forehead.
Claire didn't even look at them. She scrambled toward the fallen lamp, her hands shaking. The flame. She had to save the flame.
It was still lit, flickering weakly but alive. A wave of relief washed over her, so powerful it made her dizzy.
A hand clamped around her throat, cutting off her air.
Cameron loomed over her, his face a thunderous mask of rage.
"Did you push her?" he snarled, his grip tightening.
She clawed at his hand, unable to breathe, shaking her head frantically.
"Don't lie to me," he hissed, his eyes burning with a cold fire. "I should have known you were this vile."
He laughed, a harsh, ugly sound. "You want to hurt her? Fine. I'll show you what real pain is."
He released her suddenly. She collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, her throat burning.
"Take her," Cameron ordered his bodyguards, who had appeared in the doorway. "Throw her on the back mountain. Let her cool off."
As they dragged her out, the sky opened up. Cold rain began to fall.
They dumped her on the muddy ground like a sack of trash and left.
The cold seeped into her bones. Pain was a constant, throbbing companion. Her consciousness began to fade. In the hazy space between worlds, she saw Cameron standing over her, his face contorted with disgust.
"Why didn't you just tell me?" his phantom voice asked.
She woke up in the hospital again.
Cameron was standing by the window, his back to her.
"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" he asked, his voice low.
Claire laughed, a dry, rasping sound. "Would you have listened?"
He flinched as if she'd slapped him. His throat worked, but no sound came out.
Finally, he spoke, his voice hard again. "Apologize to Cassandra."
"No," she said, turning her head away. "I did nothing wrong."
"I saw what you did!" he exploded, his frustration boiling over. "I trust her!"
Claire closed her eyes. There was no point in arguing.
His anger seemed to deflate, replaced by a weary frustration. "Just... rest," he said. "Tomorrow, you're coming with me to the stables. Cassandra wants to go riding."
He left, slamming the door behind him.
Claire stared at the white ceiling. Her eyes burned, but there were no tears left to cry.
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