3

Camille

24 Hours Earlier

It was my lunch break, and I had rushed out of the diner to try and make my mother understand that marrying someone I didn’t know — someone like Javier Herrera — was absolute insanity.

I’d tried countless times to ask Juan Carlos for a private conversation, but he always ignored me. So I decided to appeal to her, hoping she might at least talk to him. She was the only one who might be able to make him change his mind.

As soon as I walked into the clothing store, I saw my mother, Roberta, flipping through racks with a calm expression, as if the world around her were perfectly in order.

She held a blue dress and examined the seams, absorbed in thought, not seeming to notice my presence. That contrast between her tranquility and the chaos exploding inside me irritated me in a way I couldn’t control.

— Mom, we need to talk. — My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t pretend to be okay with it anymore.

She looked at me, narrowing her eyes when she noticed I was still in my work uniform, then smiled as if she didn’t notice the seriousness of the situation.

— Of course, sweetheart. But first, what do you think of this dress? Do you think the color suits my skin tone?

I huffed, crossing my arms, but she didn’t give up and held the dress up to her body, checking her reflection in the mirror.

— Mom, are you listening to me? I need you to talk to Juan Carlos about this marriage. I don’t want this. Not like this.

She sighed, as if I were being dramatic, and turned back to the racks, running her fingers along expensive, shiny fabrics.

— Camille, how many times have I told you? Juan only wants what’s best for you. He’s securing your future, protecting you and our whole family. This marriage is a blessing, not a punishment.

Her words burned.

A blessing? Is that what she thought? That I was being blessed by being forced to marry Javier Herrera, someone I barely knew and wanted nothing to do with?

I felt rage boiling inside me, but I kept it in check.

— Mom, please... this isn’t a blessing. He didn’t ask me. He didn’t give me a choice. I’m being treated like an object, like something he can use and trade at will.

She stopped, holding a blouse in her hands, and looked at me. Her gaze was more serious now, as if she had suddenly decided my rebellion needed to be tamed.

— Cami, you need to stop thinking like that. — Her voice was firm, the tone of someone giving a lesson. — Juan has given us everything. This safety, this life. You know how things were before. Do you want to go back to that? Do you want to see us living in some dirty, dangerous place, with no one to protect you or your sister?

I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to absorb the impact of her words. Of course I remembered. I remembered every detail of our life before him — how the world felt threatening and empty.

But now I felt threatened in a different way, and no one seemed willing to listen.

— I know what he’s done for us, and I’m grateful, Mom. But... is it too much to ask to have a choice? I don’t even know Javier. He’s... — I hesitated, searching for the right words, but the truth slipped out before I could stop it. — He’s cruel. Cold. He definitely doesn’t care about me — he only wants what the marriage means for business.

She sighed, setting the blouse aside, and took my hands with a tired expression.

— Camille, you need to understand that in Juan’s world, “choice” doesn’t exist the way you think it does. He thinks of us before anything else. He protects our family, protects your sister. If this marriage will ensure our safety, then you have to accept it. Things aren’t always the way we want, and sometimes we need to sacrifice a bit of our freedom for the greater good.

— Sacrifice my freedom? — I whispered, my voice cracking. — It’s easy to say that when you’re not the one being sacrificed.

She let go of my hands, crossing her arms with a firm look.

— And do you think it was easy for me? You think I never sacrificed anything? Juan gave me a life I never dreamed of, and I accepted the terms. He takes care of us, protects us, and now you’ll have the same. Javier might not be the man of your dreams, but he’s the man he chose. Trust his judgment.

I felt my throat tighten, and tears threatened to fall, but I swallowed them. I wasn’t going to cry — not here, in a clothing store, begging my own mother not to hand me over to a man who made me feel more like property than a person.

— Mom... — my voice came out as a whisper — please... talk to him. Ask him to listen to me. I’m not asking for much. I just want him to hear me out.

She looked at me with sadness, but her eyes held an unshakable decision.

— I can’t. He’s already made up his mind, and he won’t change it. I won’t turn him against me — or against you. Just... be strong, sweetheart. In the end, you’ll see that he’s right. And get out of that hole you’ve been sleeping in and come home.

She turned back to the clothes, as if the conversation had ended, and everything inside me screamed with frustration. My plea, my pain, had been treated like a child asking for a new toy.

As if I were too small to understand the importance of what was at stake.

I walked away, heart pounding and breath short. Everything felt darker, colder, and I realized that no matter how much I fought… I was alone.

Se quiser a tradução de outra parte, ou ajustes para manter mais o tom emocional ou dramático, posso refinar!