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She Walked Away, He Went Mad

Chapter 8 

Word Count: 729    |    Released on: Today at 15:40

tney

ing my tie. The housekeeper had just arrived, follo

ner bag onto the sofa the moment

er a cold, oppressive glance. "Watch y

knew exactly what my mother had drilled into her head-that Camille had married above her

ng the wedding ring on my left hand. "Spit it out. What are you

t a fashion show in Paris, Dad's out of the country, and Grandma's not fee

go. She lives off your money and doesn't do

omero's lectures, and her grades had completely tanked. She didn't want my mother or me to find out. Throwing Camille

ourself," I

ays sucking up to me to get on your good side anyway. She's

er. I had been looking for a way to break the ice since Camille moved out. This could be

d for the door. "Fine. I'll g

lle

ead was throbbing wi

through every crack. My immune system was deteriorat

as the day I was supposed to go to the hospital to f

al lobby, my legs gave out, and I plumm

mil

ed screa

mplete d

my best friend, Cece Drake, w

voice broke with worry. "How badly is that bastard Courtney Trevino working you? T

. Did they find ou

ked when I didn't say anything. She spun around and st

er arm, my head throbbing from

ece didn't k

Boston sports circle would know I had cancer within half a day. W

he hospital?" I asked,

dead yet," Cece rolled her eyes, then narrowed them at me. "Don't try to change

ks stream! The whole internet is eating u

expression calm. I took a s

getting a

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She Walked Away, He Went Mad
She Walked Away, He Went Mad
“Three years of secret marriage. A Stage 3 cancer diagnosis on our anniversary. And a $20 million firework show across Boston Harbor-for another woman. On the day I was told I was dying, I stood in the cold hospital lobby and watched the breaking news. Courtney Trevino-the ruthless NHL captain, billionaire heir, and the husband who hadn't looked at me in years-was wrapping his coat around his dazzling "soulmate," Blair, kissing her under a sky lit with her initials. He came home at 1:00 AM with red lipstick smeared on his collar. He didn't ask why I was awake. He just pinned me to the chair with cold, arrogant eyes: "It's your ovulation window. Lie down and do your job. You wanted to be Mrs. Trevino-now give my family an heir." When I refused, he ordered me to do the unthinkable: as his PR manager, I had to draft the official press release declaring him single-personally washing his mistress clean of homewrecker rumors. Everyone treated me like a pathetic, clingy nobody who trapped a god into marriage. Courtney smirked when I whispered the word divorce. "Stop throwing tantrums, Camille. You have nowhere else to go. You'll come crawling back." He was dead wrong. I left my wedding band on the counter, signed away every penny of his fortune, and walked out the door with a single suitcase. What Courtney and high society forgot was who I was before this toxic cage: the premier mind in aerospace biomechanics, the classified legend behind military combat drones, and an untouchable tech pioneer. The "genius" mistress he worshipped wasn't even fit to read my discarded drafts. I have months left to live. I won't waste another second begging for scraps of love. Courtney thought I was bluffing. Until he found the bloody medical reports in the trash, the divorce papers in his archive, and the entire world falling to its knees for the genius he threw away...”