~Camila’s POV~
Chris’s brothers’ spouses are interesting; I can tell the type of people they are by looking at them. I’d
characterize them as spoiled brats. You can tell from their appearances that none of them can cook a
meal or even work. Well, the other one asked me a question, but I disregarded it. If she wants to get to
know me, she should ask me probing questions. When I glanced at Chris, I could see he was irritated
by the question as well. We don’t love each other, but we have to pretend to be like a loving couple
because of these obnoxious people.
“Where did you two go on your honeymoon?” With a grin, the woman, who seemed to be Chris’s
second brother’s wife, inquired. These folks are a bunch of charlatans. I grinned as I gazed at her.
“Why go on a honeymoon when you can do everything you can do on a honeymoon at home in your
own bed?” I stated that while continuing to consume my meal. I left them stunned since no one said
anything. I felt compelled to check. Except for the one who asked me a question, I observed them all
smiling. Her face was altered, maybe irritated. Then they whispered,
“She’s too young to marry Chris or even to be married to anyone. Is she even allowed to date anyone?
She looks 18 or something.” The first person who posed the question of how old I was whispered.
I was asked the same question again, which I evaded.“How old are you?” I set aside my fork and knife
and then picked up a cloth to wipe my mouth.
“I heard you the first time you posed that question to me. I didn’t respond since it was unnecessary. Do
you want to get to know me, or do you want to know what size I like, given how much you care about
my age? Do you want to know whether I date older guys, what my pantie sizes are, or if I wear all
sizes? Do you want to know that, because it would take us all day, trust me?”
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I realize my response was a little harsh, but when people try to walk all over me, my filter breaks. I
didn’t glance at anybody this time since the filter was completely broken.
“Where do you come from?” You look stunning. I really like the CAMMY track pants you’re wearing.
That has just become my favorite design.” Finally, someone changed the topic and the question was
asked by who I thought was the youngest brother’s wife. But before I could respond, the first brother’s
wife spoke.
“Oh, you should have told me you liked CAMMY designs. I know her. She is a good friend of mine from
Mexico. I purchased this CAMMY purse directly from her.”
I couldn’t say anything. I turned to face Christopher. He just shook his head. I had to take a good look
at everyone at the table. With his hand over his lips, old Mr. Grayston was grinning, stunned at the
statement the woman had just made. She immediately exhausted me as I glanced at her. When did
she meet me? I don’t even sell my designs directly to anyone, considering that I wanted to conceal the
face behind the designs. But then, I had to ask and be certain,
“Wait, you’ve met Camila?” Would you recognize her if you met her in person?”
“Of course, Charlotte and I met with her, and she’s a good friend of ours.”
“You don’t say, I’m delighted Camila is a good friend of yours.”
“Argh. Trust me, darling. Camila would never befriend someone like you. She is extremely reclusive
and does not even want others to know she is the designer.
“At least they got one thing right,” I whispered. Chris came dangerously close to choking on his meal.
One thing I know about my husband is that he already knows who I am. But he has never asked me,
and he knows I am the Cammy they are referring to, but he is unaware that I am the sole daughter of
the Mendoza family in Mexico. Only his grandfather was aware of this. He knows my surname is
Mendoza, but he has no clue who I am or where I come from. I saw him sipping water.
“So you’ve met Camila?” The youngest brother’s wife posed the ultimate question.
“She was just a neighbor back in Mexico,” I said. It’s a good thing I’ve never been engaged in the family
business; just a few people know who I am, and they have no clue I’m Fernando and Catalina
Mendoza’s daughter. My brothers and relatives are all in the family business, but I took a different path.
Instead of building and planning houses, I make clothes. I searched around but couldn’t find Liam.
These folks were beginning to irritate me, so I left the table to play with my son. I could see they were
all appalled as if playing with their own children was a sin. I heard Chris warning them on the table as I
was playing with Liam.
“No one, and I mean no one, should ever pose stupid questions to my wife again. Is that clear? You
idiots can’t even keep your useless wives under control. My wife is ten times smarter than these fools
you call wives. You’ll never be able to compare my wife to these cretins. Get your wives under control,
fools.” Nothing was mentioned. Another lady was approaching me.
“Hi,” she stated.
“Hi.”
“I’m Emily Christopher’s mother.” With a grin, she said. This lady, like Chris’s grandmother, is quite
humble. I was going to say something when she cut me off. “Don’t worry, I know you, I just wanted to
introduce myself to you. I had no idea Chris was married. I’m sure he’d say no if I invited you to come
to see me. Please be kind to him. There is a nice guy behind the wolf he makes others see. He was
badly hurt. He will warm up to you.” She stated that and hugged me for no apparent reason, but I
realized at the table that the senior members of the family liked me. All I sense from the old guy who
resembles Chris is a lot of emotions, not hatred, but more like relief. I’m not sure why they seem
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relieved, but I’m delighted they loved me, even though this is just a paper marriage. Chris is still my
husband.
Why did he not provide me with a timeline for our marriage? Is he looking for me to remain his wife for
the rest of my life? What if I fall in love with someone else? What will become of Liam? Why am I so
invested in Liam?
I brushed everything aside. My faulty filter is not a concern for the family’s elderly. I’m not interested in
the rest of them. They annoy me because they behave as if they know everything.
When I returned to the table, everyone was silent except for that one individual who was trying to get
under my skin.
“How do you feel when your husband is in the habit of sleeping around? I mean, there’s always
something fresh about him in the media.” I’m sure she waited for Chris to leave the table before asking
the question. So I wanted to delve even deeper into her skin.
“I’m not sure how I feel about it. Perhaps you will understand how I feel. How does it feel to know that
your husband is massaging his heel between my thighs under this table?”
Behind me, I heard a chuckle. I turned to look at Chris. I felt a little uncomfortable. I walked away from
the table when I heard her yell.
“Joshua Grayston!!,” she called.
I turned to face the guy I had accused. I rendered him speechless. I looked around and said,
“You don’t even trust yourself. I was just kidding. Keep your unneeded questions to yourself the next
time we meet.” I turned to face Chris with a huge smile.
“Husband, are we ready to go home?”
“You are a one-of-a-kind demon, aren’t you?” Chris said.
“Next time, no one will dare me because I’m just a girl.” We burst out laughing. Charlotte seemed to be
surprised and embarrassed at the same time.