The gala glittered like every other Locke Industries event: champagne towers, string quartets, chandeliers dripping with light. To anyone looking in, it was flawless- just as Michael Locke liked it. To me, it was suffocating.
My reflection in the mirrored wall was composed, the kind of poise I had practiced for years: chin up, shoulders relaxed, lips tilted in a graceful half smile. The perfect Mrs. Locke. But behind that mask, my stomach twisted tighter with every passing second.
Michael's arm circled my waist, heavy like an iron shackle disguised as affection. He leaned down, his breath hot at my ear.
"Smile wider, Camilla. The cameras love us tonight."
I obeyed. Not because I wanted to but because that was the only choice left to me.
Applause rose from the crowd as Michael finished shaking hands with a board member. He thrived in this light, fed off it. To them, he was charming, magnetic, untouchable. They couldn't see the man who spat venom in the privacy of our home. They couldn't hear the accusations that dripped from his mouth every time he looked at me.
A voice, smooth as oil and twice as slick, cut through the chatter.
"Well, well. If it isn't the golden couple of the decade."
I stiffened instantly. Michael's grip tightened against me, his knuckles pressing into my side as if warning me to stay silent.
Vincent Calder.
He stepped out from the crowd like a shadow made flesh, tall and sharp-featured, his tuxedo tailored to perfection. His eyes glinted with a predatory amusement as they roamed over us.
"Calder," Michael said, his voice measured, though his jaw flexed. "I didn't realize scavengers had invitations tonight."
Vincent's smirk widened. "Oh, come now. You and I both know this town would wither away without me. Besides..." His gaze slid to me. "...I couldn't resist the chance to congratulate the Lockes on another empire sized quarter. You always did know how to… capitalize."
The room seemed to hush around us. Michael's enemies always knew how to wound with words.
I forced a polite smile. "Mr. Calder. A pleasure to see you."
Michael's fingers dug into my hip, a silent warning, but I held my expression. The truth was, I couldn't afford to look rattled. Especially not with Vincent.
Vincent inclined his head. "Mrs. Locke. Always radiant. Though I must admit, I expected to see you beside me in these circles, not tethered to…" He let his sentence trail off, the insult implied.
Michael stepped forward, blocking me halfway from Vincent's view. "Careful, Calder. You've been bitter since the day you walked out of Locke Industries with your tail between your legs."
The tension cracked through the air like a live wire. I swallowed, memories pushing at the edges of my mind. The whispers I'd overheard late one night. The deal I had made in desperation. The thing Michael still didn't know.
I blinked hard, forcing myself back to the present.
Not now, Camilla.
Vincent only chuckled, unbothered by Michael's aggression. "Tail between my legs? Oh no, Mike. I built Calder Enterprises from the ground up without the need to steal ideas or step on anyone. Unlike you."
My husband's teeth flashed in what looked like a smile but carried no warmth. "Enjoy your delusions while you can. We both know who's winning this war."
Vincent tipped his glass at me before fading back into the crowd, but not before whispering as he passed, low enough so only I could hear:
"How long can you keep up the act, Camilla?"
Rage, revulsion and hatred whipped through me all at once.
Michael turned to me, his smile still plastered on for the cameras. "Don't you dare breathe a word to that snake. Not a single one."
"I won't," I said quietly.
He tilted his head, studying me with suspicion before letting out a humorless laugh. "Good. Because if I ever found out you were anything less than loyal again, you'd regret it."
The words sliced into me, cruel and cutting, though they weren't new. They were his mantra since he saw the tape. My punishment was always waiting, whether in silence or fury.
I opened my mouth to reply but stopped when a woman in a silver gown approached, gushing over Michael's latest business deal. He shifted seamlessly back into his charming persona, leaving me standing as little more than a prop.
My chest tightened. The room blurred for a second, the glittering lights stabbing into my vision. I placed a hand on the nearest table, gripping the edge to steady myself.
Please not now.
"Camilla?" someone asked behind me.
I turned to see Claire, one of my oldest friends, her brow furrowed in concern.
"You look pale," she whispered.
"I'm fine," I lied, forcing another smile.
"You're obviously not."
I shook my head. "Don't, Claire. Please."
Before she could press further, Michael appeared at my side again, his arm snaking around me like a leash. "Everything all right here?"
Claire's eyes burned into mine, but she forced a smile. "Of course. Just catching up."
Michael didn't believe her. I could feel it in the weight of his grip.
I tried to breathe evenly, tried to push through the spinning in my head, but the edges of the room were starting to darken. Still, I faked a smile, rose my chin high, and strutted like the queen I was.
The speeches began. Michael took the stage to thunderous applause, his voice booming with confidence as he spoke of success and vision, of future empires and legacy. The crowd adored him.
Shouts of "Mila" and "Mila for life!" filled the air. The media had coined the term "Mila" as a play on the combination of mine and Micheal's names. The public ate it up.
Meanwhile, my hands trembled as I clutched my glass, every breath harder than the last.
I tried to focus on Michael's voice, to anchor myself, but suddenly my chest seized, a sharp pain stabbing through me. The glass slipped from my fingers, shattering against the marble floor.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as everyone's head turned towards me.
"Milla?" Michael's voice cut in above the rest. To my surprise, he sounded genuinely concerned.
I swayed, the chandeliers above me blurring into streaks of gold. My knees buckled, and the world tilted violently.
The last thing I saw before the darkness swallowed me whole was Michael's perfect face looming above me as he yelled for an ambulance.
And then everything went black.