Chapter 6: Interesting, isn't?

Camille

As soon as Harrison left, I knew I wouldn’t be getting any sleep. Memories from years ago flooded my mind, fragments of people and events surfacing like ghosts from the past.

My mother, Tessa Dawson, was a woman of striking beauty and gentle grace. With a touch of effort in her appearance, she could easily command the attention of any room.

We had been hitchhiking for days, crossing city after city, running from a life we could no longer return to. And now, we had finally arrived here.

That day, Mom dressed me in the cleanest clothes we had left, took my hand, and together we rang the bell at the imposing gates of the Bennett Estate.

The gatekeeper didn't even let her finish her first sentence before waving us away with a dismissive hand.

Mom pleaded, begging him to at least inform the housekeeper, to give her a chance at any kind of work.

The gatekeeper coldly shut the heavy door in her face.

Mom, ever persistent, refused to leave. We stood there for what felt like an eternity until finally, Mrs. Bennett's car returned.

"Madam, we shouldn’t let her in," a maid whispered, casting a wary glance at my mother. “Look at her, she has the allure of a vixen. Best not invite disaster."

Mrs. Bennett’s gaze, however, lingered on me.

Standing in the bitter cold for a long time, my thin coat barely offering any protection from the wind, my fingers red and stiff.

Mrs. Bennett sighed.

"Sandra, take them to the back," she said at last. "I can’t just leave them out here in this weather. My conscience won’t allow it."

Sandra’s lips pursed in disapproval. She led us to the servant's quarters, a modest bungalow at the far end of the estate. She tossed a bundle of coarse clothing at Mom and sneered, "Listen up. There are ranks among servants. You're nothing but a lowly maid. You're confined to the back courtyard. Never set foot in the main house. Is that clear?"

Sandra assigned my mother the dirtiest, most exhausting tasks, forcing her to work from before dawn until deep into the night.

Yet, Mom never complained. Instead, she would greet me with the brightest smile during our brief moments together.

She had finally escaped the clutches of that despicable man - my father, James Dawson.

Despite the maids' constant snide remarks and unfriendly glances, Mom kept her head down, immersing herself in her work, her words few and far between.

Until one day, Mr. Bennett noticed her. His eyes lingered a little too long and became enamored with her beauty.

And then, Mom's work station moved to the main house, her tasks becoming considerably lighter.

The maids' eyes now burned with a venom that could melt steel.

In those days, I spent most of my time with Matthew, and naturally, I was privy to the maids' whispers.

The tale of "the big vixen and her little vixen cub" spread through the servants' quarters like wildfire, filling me with shame and indignation.

"Matthew," I asked him one day, my voice barely above a whisper, "Do you think Mom and I are bad people?"

He smiled warmly, his eyes filled with genuine affection. "How could you even think that? You and Tessa are the kindest people I know. You're both gentle and beautiful, your eyes never betray a hint of greed or malice."

"But... people say such awful things about us..."

"The maids, you mean?" Matthew's face hardened. "Tell me their names, and I'll have my mother dismiss them at once."

Of course, I could never bring myself to have them fired. Matthew's unwavering support was more than enough to quell my fears.

Mom's peaceful days, however, were short-lived. In the end, she chose to end her suffering, to seek solace in the cold embrace of death.

Her release came at a terrible price, one that no human should ever have to bear.

A woman who was terrified of the sea, who was paralyzed by the mere thought of darkness, chose to leap from the towering cliffs by the shore.

A woman who cherished her beauty more than anything else in the world chose to die in the unforgiving depths of the ocean.

Her body, once so vibrant, was left bloated and disfigured by the relentless waves, battered against the jagged rocks until she was unrecognizable.

What thoughts raced through her mind in those final moments? What despair drove her to such a desperate act?

As I gazed upon her ravaged body, the tears simply wouldn't come. They had all dried up, leaving behind only a hollow ache.

Mrs. Bennett, the kind woman who had shown me such warmth, was gone. Matthew, my dearest friend, was taken from me too soon. And Gabriel... he was nowhere to be found.

Who could I turn to in my grief? Who would listen to my sorrow?

Certainly not that old man who now held me in his arms.

I hate men!

Very, very, very much!

One night, when I was ten, my bastard father came home drunk again and beat my mother black and blue.

I begged him, tears streaming down my face, "Dad, if you want water, I'll get it for you. Just… please, don't hurt Mom anymore…"

Maybe my crying annoyed him. Like a hunter grabbing a stray cat, he snatched me by the scruff of my neck and flung me onto the dining table.

I panicked. This wasn’t the first time. The memories of pain came rushing back, overwhelming me.

I screamed, kicked, fought with all my might, but my resistance meant nothing to him.

His massive body loomed over me. The stench of alcohol and cigarettes clung to his skin, suffocating me.

But this time, he only managed a grunt before he collapsed.

I opened my eyes. My mother stood there, gripping a broken mop handle, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. Fear and shock filled her eyes.

The bastard lay motionless on top of me, reeking, dead weight pinning me down.

"Camille, come here, baby."

She yanked him off me and hurriedly dressed me, her hands trembling.

"Camille, has he… done this before?" she asked, tears streaming down her face.

I bit my lip and nodded, my vision blurred by hot tears.

"I’m so sorry, baby. This is my fault. I should’ve protected you. But I swear—he'll never hurt you again. Never."

We held onto each other, sobbing.

That night, she drove like a madwoman, speeding through the darkness until dawn, until her eyes could barely stay open, until the car slammed into a tree.

Maybe I had been through too much. My heart had become fragile, my self-esteem shattered, leaving me convinced I was nothing but trash.

Then I met Matthew and Gabriel, and for the first time in a long while, light seeped into my life. I laughed more, found solace in their presence.

But happiness was fleeting. Just as quickly as I had been pulled from the abyss, I fell again—deeper, darker than before.

This time, no one reached out to save me.

Every day, I drowned in shadows and pain.

The next morning, I pulled my hair into a sleek ponytail, slipped into a tailored suit, and transformed myself into a picture of composure. Today, I was going to Gabriel’s office.

The thought of working alongside him sent a flutter of anticipation through me.

Strangely, there was little gossip about him within the company.

Whether by his design or mere coincidence, information about Gabriel was scarce.

Even those around Harrison only spoke of him in fragments—his ruthless efficiency, his extraordinary capabilities.

Gabriel's office was spacious, directly facing the main office – more specifically, his father's domain.

The room was meticulously tidy, yet shrouded in semi-darkness. Most of the blinds were drawn, and the overhead light remained off.

Gabriel sat with his back to the door, leaning back in his chair.

Even when I entered and greeted him, he didn't move an inch.

Forcing a smile, I tried again. "Gabe, about the task Mr. Bennett mentioned yesterday—could I take a look at the documents first? I’d like to get a general understanding."

He remained motionless, his gaze fixed on the window.

"…If you're busy, just the files would be fine."

Gabriel suddenly turned his head, placing a finger to his lips in a "shush" gesture.

For a split second, it felt like we had gone back in time—before everything between us had fallen apart. There was something mischievous in his expression, a hint of the playful Gabriel I once knew.

I immediately fell silent.

He beckoned me closer, a conspiratorial glint in his eyes, pointing towards the building across the way.

"See that?"

I followed his gaze, confused, shaking my head.

He let out a derisive snort and pulled a pair of high-powered binoculars from his desk drawer, handing them to me.

In that instant, the blood ran cold in my veins.

Across the way, in his father's office, the old man was fucking a naked woman against his desk, his movements frantic and brutal.

Her legs were wrapped around Harrison’s waist, her body moving in sync with his, seeming to enjoy it.

I froze. It took a moment for my hand to drop, the binoculars falling onto the desk with a heavy thud.

Gabriel, however, wore a satisfied smirk. "Interesting, isn't it?"

His grin widened.

I felt a chill crawl down my spine. I knew what he meant.

Because Harrison had forced himself on me at that very same desk.

He had seen it all.

My heart died, cold and empty.