I Married Him With a Lie, Now I Leave With the TruthChapter 1
It was our second wedding anniversary. Two years with Damien, yet my heart still skipped whenever I thought about him.
I was seated beside the window at our favorite restaurant, the one that overlooked the glittering city skyline. At night, the lights always shimmered like they were alive, and Damien once told me they reminded him of me. I checked my phone again—maybe the sixth time now—and reread the message I had sent him earlier.
“I’m already here. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
Two hours had passed.
A waiter approached, offering a courteous smile. “Would you like to place your order now, ma’am?”
I shook my head gently. “I’ll wait a little longer. My husband should be here soon.”
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself.
Then I noticed a familiar figure approaching—sharp heels tapping against the floor, her red lipstick far too striking for an intimate dinner like this. Camille. Damien’s secretary.
My smile faded instantly. “Camille? What are you doing here?”
She pulled out the chair across from me and rested a hand on it, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile. “Clara, sorry to interrupt your anniversary. Damien asked me to inform you he won’t be able to come. He’s at the hospital with Ethan.”
My chest tightened. “Ethan? What happened?”
“There was a minor accident. Nothing life-threatening, but Damien rushed over as soon as he heard.”
I pushed my chair back so quickly it scraped against the floor. “Why didn’t he call me? He knows how close I am to Ethan. Take me there—I’ll go with you.”
But instead of agreeing, Camille’s expression shifted into something unsettling. She folded her arms, studying me with thinly veiled amusement.
“You really are naïve, aren’t you?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
She tilted her head, her tone laced with something between pity and ridicule. “Doesn’t it seem odd to you? Every time Ethan needs something, Damien abandons everything—his meetings, his plans, even you.”
“Well… of course,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. “Ethan’s his younger brother. That’s family.”
Camille let out a soft laugh. “Brother? Clara, you really believe that?”
My stomach knotted. “What exactly are you implying?”
She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Ethan isn’t his little brother… he’s his son.”