The Possessive Lord's Contract Wife

Damien stared at Hayden’s body on the floor. He could see Hayden’s chest rise and fall, faint but steady, giving away that he was still alive. Just barely clinging to life.

"What did you do to him?" Damien demanded, needing to know Camille wasn’t trying to fool him.

He didn’t fully trust her yet.

"The less you know, the better. Isn’t that what you always say?" Camille asked, trying to shield Damien from the truth. "I promise you this isn’t a lie. He isn’t well. It was either him or me, and I chose to protect myself."

Damien’s gaze shifted to the man standing guard before Camille. "Can you trust him?"

"I can," Camille nodded, certain this time. "I had to think about who I could trust most after you were right. Hayden found out about us meeting. This man came with me from the Hawthorne estate when I married Hayden."

Damien didn’t recognise the face beside Camille. She always had too many guards. Too many to keep track of.

"If I learn that he is well, then I will come back for him, and I will come for you. He is a danger to this family, and if you allow him to fool you, then you deserve to die with him," Damien said coldly.

"I know," Camille whispered, accepting what awaited her. "He wanted to paint me as insane, to have me taken away by a doctor. He killed my brother and pretended to comfort me. We may disagree on many things, but I am protective of my family."

"We don’t have much time left," Zayne interjected, his tone urgent. "Let your aunt go on with her plan while we leave."

Damien reluctantly turned. "Get your children out of your home. Keep them from seeing this."

"I already plan to send them away to their grandparents. Go," Camille urged, not wanting her plans spoiled.

She sat back down as Damien and Zayne exited the chamber.

Camille’s eyes locked on Hayden’s body. "You said he won’t move for a few hours. I want him beaten so badly that he cannot move on his own. That the words which come out of his mouth will be hard to understand. Make it difficult for him to breathe, but don’t kill him."

Camille sought to torture Hayden while he was helpless. To make him suffer as she had suffered. She wanted him to be the one hidden away under the care of a doctor who would listen only to her.

"Be quick, as we need to add the bruises to my neck. I will leave you be for a moment," she said, rising from the bed.

Camille exited her bedchamber and closed the door. She didn’t make it far before her knees buckled. She collapsed, hands covering her mouth as muffled cries tore from her throat.

Her body shook violently. She knew all roads led to Hayden’s involvement in her brother’s death, but to hear Damien speak of it with certainty snapped something inside her.

She had made children with a man who plotted against her dear brother. Because of Hayden’s actions, she had lost her only brother, and now her children would grow up without their father.

"What have I done?" Camille whispered, disgusted with herself, her nails digging into her skin.

Her plans to host gatherings, to toy with Jane’s feelings, now troubled her deeply. How she had spoken of Jane to other ladies, mocking her, trying to wound her pride.

She had been tormenting her niece, all while being in love with her brother’s murderer.

Camille’s nails scratched at her chest until her skin burned. She was utterly disgusted with herself.

Maids nearby, hearing her cries, rushed to her side.

"Are you well, my lady?"

Camille couldn’t hear their questions because she was too consumed by her own self-hatred.

Her tears startled them. They had no clue what had occurred in the bedchamber.

"Send for the town guards," one maid urged.

Camille snapped out of her breakdown with a wild expression. "Not now. You are to guide the doctor here and keep my children in their chambers. If you prove your loyalty to me now, I shall greatly reward you. I will ensure you are never mistreated, even by me."

"Triple your week’s pay," Camille offered, desperate to buy their silence. "For all of you, each week, for as long as you stay by my side. You will rise with me, as long as you give your loyalty and do as I say when the doctor arrives."

The maids exchanged glances. They rarely cared for the couple, but if silence meant wealth, it was worth taking.

Camille took their silence as agreement. "Now, go. Keep my children in their bedchambers and inform me when the doctor comes. None of the other servants is to come near my chamber without my permission. Go," she ordered, and the maids obeyed with hesitation.

Camille remained seated on the floor as she didn’t have the strength to move just yet.

No sound came from inside. She could only wait for her guard to emerge and tell her the task was done.

Her hand rose to her neck, which would need to be wounded shortly to sell her story. It was partially true that he was planning to hurt her.

It would be difficult to cry before the guards and court, to claim she was attacked, and then insist she wanted to keep Hayden alive to care for him as a dutiful wife, but Camille intended to succeed.

Camille slowly rose as time passed.

When she stood straight and smoothed her dress, a chilling thought struck her: Damien might have found proof of Hayden’s schemes against her brother. He might be planning to share it.

"He mustn’t yet," Camille muttered, gathering her skirts to run.

Despite her best efforts, she stumbled, tripping over the fabric. She fell hard, groaning as she twisted her ankle.

Because of her orders, no servant was near to help her.

"What am I doing? Why would I stop him from speaking the truth?" Camille whispered, her voice raw with anguish.

She pressed her palms to her face as fresh tears streamed down.

The more time passed, the more she loathed herself, her choices, her blindness, and her weakness.

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