Oops I Accidentally Ended Her Fake Perfect Life novel Chapter 11

**Across the Fallen Golden Kingdom Distant Fires by Damon S. Creed**
**Chapter 3**

Nora found herself bedridden, her body ravaged by a relentless fever after being caught in a sudden downpour. Three long days passed in a haze of delirium and discomfort, each hour stretching like an eternity.

When she finally emerged from the clutches of illness, her recovery was abruptly overshadowed by Chase’s insistence on attending a lavish banquet at the Thai Imperial Hotel in Bellwood. The moment they arrived, a wave of unease washed over her.

As she stepped into the grand lobby, her eyes were drawn to a familiar figure: Camila. She stood there, resplendent in the very designer gown that Nora had pleaded for countless times, her heart sinking with each passing second. It was a dress that had become a symbol of unfulfilled desires, and now it adorned the woman who seemed to embody everything Nora felt she was not.

Their gazes locked, and in that instant, the air thickened with an unspoken animosity that crackled like electricity. Nora could feel her pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and betrayal bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Mr. Whitmore, Mrs. Whitmore,” the concierge greeted them with a practiced politeness, his tone betraying nothing of the tension in the air. “Per the hotel’s cultural policy, male guests may only enter with their legal spouse. Should you wish to bring a mistress, she must kneel and bow at the door.”

Camila, unbothered by the formality, pouted defiantly and flung herself into Chase’s arms, her voice dripping with faux indignation. “Chase! I’m not kneeling for anyone! And I certainly don’t want to be your mistress, hmph!”

Nora felt a rush of indignation and couldn’t help but retort, “Too late to worry about that now, isn’t it?”

Instantly, tears welled up in Camila’s eyes, shimmering like glass. “Chase…”

Chase hesitated, just a fleeting moment, before turning to the concierge and stating flatly, “Camila Rae is my wife.”

Nora stood frozen, disbelief coursing through her like ice water. “Chase…”

“Just go along with it,” he murmured, his lips barely moving, his eyes darting nervously. “Camila’s young. Sensitive. She couldn’t possibly kneel in front of everyone.”

And what about her? Did she not deserve consideration?

Chase, noticing the color drain from Nora’s face, tried to coax her gently. “You’ve always wanted that Peninsula Manor house, haven’t you? I’ll buy it for you tonight. All you have to do is enter—as my mistress.”

The whispers of the guests nearby began to rise, thick with derision and scorn.

“Wasn’t Mr. Whitmore’s wife the heiress of the Langston family? When did that change?”

“Right? The Whitmore Group only survived that crisis back then because he married into the Langstons. And now he’s turning his back on her for a mistress?”

“Tsk, honestly? That little canary looks more like the real wife. That Langston girl’s just pathetic.”

Nora’s cheeks burned with humiliation, a sensation she had never before experienced so acutely.

With a deep breath, she retrieved their marriage certificate from her purse, the paper crinkling in her grip like the weight of her resolve.

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