Chapter 1 - The Kitchen Encounter
Four days after the emergency surgery, a private town car brought me back to the Vescari estate.
My body ached with every movement, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the hollow numbness in my chest.
I held my newborn son, Marco, tightly against my heart as I walked through the heavy mahogany front doors.
The house was eerily silent, devoid of the usual staff that bustled around the foyer.
I slowly made my way toward the kitchen to get a bottle of water to take my painkillers.
When I pushed the swinging door open, I froze in my tracks.
A woman was sitting at my kitchen island, casually sipping espresso from one of my favorite porcelain cups.
She had sleek, dark hair, perfectly manicured nails, and wore a silk robe that I instantly recognized as Roman’s.
This was Camille Renard.
She looked up at me with a slow, predatory smile that made my blood run completely cold.
"You must be exhausted, Elena," she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.
I pulled Marco closer to my chest, my maternal instincts screaming at me to run.
"Get out of my house," I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady.
Camille let out a soft, dismissive laugh and took another sip of her espresso.
"Roman told me to make myself comfortable while he handled some business downtown."
"He also mentioned you might be a little emotional after the surgery."
The sheer audacity of her presence in my home made the room spin.
I reached for the wall phone to call the estate security.
Camille didn't even flinch as I picked up the receiver.
"They won't answer, Elena," she noted casually.
"Roman gave the interior guards the day off so we could have some privacy."
I slammed the phone back onto the hook, realizing exactly how trapped I was.
"What do you want, Camille?"
She set the porcelain cup down and leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands.
"I just wanted to see the baby that ruined my weekend plans in Paris."
"He is quite small, isn't he?"
I took a step backward toward the hallway, shielding Marco's face from her view.
"Do not talk about my son."
Camille stood up gracefully, smoothing out the wrinkles in Roman's silk robe.
"You should be grateful, Elena."
"It is a miracle he survived at all."
May you like
She walked slowly toward me, stopping just a few feet away.
"Especially considering how easily the last three pregnancies disappeared when you drank your morning tea."
