He stepped closer and opened the velvet box, revealing a delicate diamond necklace. “I chose it myself,” he added softly.
“Damien…” My voice trembled.
He brushed a strand of hair away from my face, his touch gentle. “You said earlier you had something to tell me. A surprise, right?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Too many thoughts crowded my mind—too many truths that suddenly felt dangerous to speak.
Before I could respond, his phone rang.
I didn’t need to look. I already knew.
Camille.
His hand paused briefly before he exhaled. “I need to take this.”
“Right now?” I asked quietly.
“It’s important. Work matters.”
I forced a faint smile. “Can’t it wait until later?”
“Clara,” he said gently, “you know how things are. This deal is crucial. And you—” he touched my cheek lightly, “you should get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day. You’ll be anchoring the special report about our partnership. I’ll be watching. I’m proud of you.”
Then he turned and left.
The door closing behind him sounded louder than any argument.
I remained standing there, staring at the necklace in my hand. A flawless gift… for a flawless lie.
Sleep never came that night. The conversation I overheard at the hospital kept replaying in my mind—the laughter, the betrayal, the truth I couldn’t unhear.
I needed answers.
So when midnight arrived, I quietly slipped out of bed, grabbed my keys, and followed him.
I parked a few streets away from the hotel where I saw his car enter. My heart pounded as I approached the lobby, pulling my cap low to hide my face.
Then I saw them.
Damien and Camille stood near the entrance, talking closely. Her fingers brushed his arm casually, like it was something familiar between them. I tried to convince myself it was just business—but then another figure appeared.
A woman.
She looked… like Camille.
Same hairstyle. Similar build. Even the same shade of lipstick Damien always preferred when I appeared on television.
I froze, my breath catching in my throat.
The woman stepped closer—
And kissed Damien.
“What’s gotten into you, Clara?”
Damien’s voice erupted the moment I stepped into the living room. He was already there—tie loosened, sleeves slightly rumpled, anger written all over his face in a way that made him look almost unfamiliar.