The Manipulated Husband
The upscale rooftop restaurant offered a stunning view of the city skyline at night. Soft lighting and quiet jazz created an intimate atmosphere.
Alexander sat across from Camilla at a private table, his posture composed but his mind clearly troubled.
Camilla looked beautiful in a deep red dress, her eyes soft and glistening as she leaned forward, voice low and vulnerable.
“Alexander… I can’t stop thinking about everything,” she whispered, reaching across the table to take his hand. “The way my father favored Emery… the way she stepped into my place so easily… she is so manipulative! She doesn't get to be happy.”
Alexander’s thumb brushed her knuckles almost absentmindedly, but his eyes were distant. “Camilla, I know this is all too much. But Emery is my wife. She’s carrying my child.”
Camilla’s eyes filled with tears, perfectly timed, glistening under the candlelight. She squeezed his hand tighter, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Is she?” she asked softly, the words laced with doubt.
“How can she get pregnant in just one night? The night of the wedding? It seems… too convenient. What if she was already carrying a child before she married you? What if she lied about the timing so she could make space for herself in your family? So she could secure her position as the new Mrs. Prescott?”
Alexander frowned, his calm mask cracking. “What are you saying?”
Camilla leaned even closer, her voice dropping to a heartbroken whisper.
“I don’t know whose child it is. But Emery had a boyfriend before the wedding.
Maybe it’s his. Maybe she saw her chance and took it, trapping you into raising another man’s baby while she enjoys the Prescott name and fortune.
She played the innocent victim so well. The poor girl forced into marriage.
But what if she planned all this so you cannot divorce her? ”
Alexander’s jaw tightened. He didn’t pull his hand away, but his eyes darkened with growing suspicion. The seeds Camilla had planted earlier were taking deeper root.
“I… I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he admitted quietly.
Camilla wiped a tear from her cheek, her touch lingering on his hand. “I’m not trying to hurt you. I just want you to see the truth. You deserve better than being lied to. You deserve someone who truly loves you… someone like me. I love you, Alexander. So much.”
She leaned in, and whispered, “I will never stop choosing you now.”
Alexander remained silent, but the doubt was clear in his eyes. Camilla smiled softly against his cheek, knowing she had sown another dangerous seed.
The night stretched on, the city lights twinkling below them like silent witnesses to the growing fracture in Alexander’s marriage.
×××××××
It was well past midnight when Emery quietly made her way down the hallway to Jesse’s room. The house was dark and silent, the only sound the soft pad of her bare feet on the cool floor. She hesitated for a moment outside his door, then knocked gently.
The door opened almost immediately.
Jesse stood there, shirtless, his frame illuminated by the low light from inside the room. He was clearly getting ready for sleep: dark hair slightly tousled, sweatpants riding low on his hips. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw her.
“Emery? Is everything okay?”
She stood there in her thin nightdress, arms wrapped around herself, looking small and vulnerable. “Alexander isn’t home yet. It’s too late. He’s not even picking up my calls. I thought I’d come to you and ask if you know where he is. Is he still at the office?”
Jesse’s jaw clenched for a fraction of a second. “No, he left early today.”
“Then maybe he’s out with friends,” Emery said, voice quiet and tired.
Jesse’s jaw tightened further, his eyes darkening with barely contained frustration. “Or maybe with some runaway bride.”
Emery’s breath caught. “Camilla?”
Jesse nodded once, his expression grim. “Come in. I’ll call him.”
He stepped aside to let her in and closed the door softly behind her. Emery walked to the edge of his bed and sat down, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, eyes fixed on the floor.
Jesse picked up his phone from the nightstand and dialed Alexander’s number. It rang. And rang. No answer. He tried again. Still nothing.
“I’ll keep trying,” he said, voice low and rough with concern.
Emery nodded, still staring at the floor. The silence in the room felt heavy, filled with everything neither of them was saying.
Jesse stood there, phone in hand, watching her: the woman he loved, the mother of his child, sitting on his bed looking lost and exhausted.
The urge to reach out, to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay, was almost overwhelming.
But he stayed where he was, dialing Alexander’s number one more time, the unanswered rings echoing like a warning in the quiet room.
×××××××
The hotel room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the city skyline through the large windows. Camilla and Alexander stood near the bed, hands already pulling at each other’s clothes with urgent, heated movements.
Alexander’s shirt was halfway unbuttoned, Camilla’s dress slipping off one shoulder, when his phone rang sharply from the nightstand.
Camilla’s eyes flicked to the screen. She saw Jesse’s name flash across it. Without hesitation, she reached over and silenced the call, then turned the phone face down.
Alexander barely noticed, his hands sliding around her waist, pulling her closer. “Camilla…”
She smiled against his lips, voice a sultry whisper. “Ignore it. It’s just work. Tonight is about us.”
He didn’t argue. The phone buzzed again but Camilla simply moved it further away, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him deeper, more insistently.
Alexander gave in completely, lost in the passion of the moment. His hands roamed her body, pushing the dress down her shoulders until it pooled at her feet. Camilla’s laugh was soft and victorious as she tugged his shirt open, nails grazing his chest.
The phone stopped ringing.
Camilla pressed closer, her body warm and eager against his. “See? No interruptions. Just you and me.”
Alexander’s response was a low groan as he lifted her onto the bed, the outside world, including the unanswered calls from his brother fading into the background.
In the heat of the moment, nothing else mattered.
×××××××
Jesse had been trying for half an hour now.
He paced the length of his room, phone pressed to his ear, dialing Alexander’s number again and again. Each ring went unanswered.
Emery had settled against the headboard of Jesse’s bed, her back aching from the long day. She sat with her knees drawn up slightly, fingers twisting nervously in her lap, eyes fixed on the floor.
“I just want to know he’s alright,” she whispered, voice small and worried. “Anything can happen…”
Jesse nodded, his own anxiety barely contained. He turned toward the window, lowering his voice so she wouldn’t hear the frustration boiling over.
“Alexander, I swear to God, if you don’t pick up tonight I’m going to tear you into pieces tomorrow. Pick up the phone. Emery is waiting! At least think about the baby, goddammit,” he hissed into the voicemail, his free hand clenched into a fist.
He kept his back to her, typing countless frantic messages and redialing the number every few minutes. The silence on the other end only made his chest tighter.
Ten minutes later, he turned around, ready to tell her there was still no answer.
“Emery, he’s not picking up—”
He stopped mid-sentence.
Emery had fallen asleep against the headboard, her eyes closed, long lashes resting against her cheeks. Her fingers were still twisted together from when she had been fidgeting, her breathing slow and even now. The stress of the day had finally pulled her under.
Jesse lowered the phone slowly, his expression softening with a mix of tenderness and ache. He walked to her quietly, careful not to wake her.
Gently, he eased her down into a more comfortable position, sliding a pillow under her head and pulling the blanket over her body. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her face relaxing in sleep.
“Sleep well, love,” he murmured, voice barely audible.
He turned off the lamp, leaving only the soft glow from the window to illuminate the room. The moonlight cast gentle shadows across her face.
“I’m here,” he whispered.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly, lingering for a moment, his lips brushing her skin with quiet reverence.
Then he sat on the edge of the bed, watching over her as she slept, the weight of the unanswered calls and the secrets between them pressing heavily on his shoulders.
For tonight, at least, he could protect her while she rested.
×××××××