The Hide and Seek Game That Lasted a Lifetime novel Chapter 13

Chapter 3

Nora had fallen gravely ill after being caught in a relentless downpour, her body wracked by a high fever that refused to subside for three agonizing days. The illness left her weak and drained, her spirit as dampened as her clothes had been in the rain. But no sooner had she begun to recover than Chase insisted on dragging her to a lavish banquet held at the Thai Imperial Hotel in Bellwood.

As they approached the grand entrance, Nora’s breath caught in her throat. Standing there was Camila, adorned in the very same designer gown Nora had pleaded with Chase to buy for her countless times—requests that had always been met with refusal. Now, Camila wore it effortlessly, her presence radiating a confidence Nora lacked.

Their eyes locked, and an electric tension filled the air, thick with unspoken rivalry and simmering resentment.

“Mr. Whitmore, Mrs. Whitmore,” the concierge greeted them with a polite yet firm tone, “according to the hotel’s cultural policy, male guests are permitted entry only with their legal spouse. Should you wish to bring a mistress, she must kneel and bow at the door.”

Camila’s lips curled into a defiant pout as she threw herself into Chase’s arms. “Chase! I’m not kneeling for anyone! And I’m certainly not your mistress, hmph!”

Nora couldn’t help herself; the words slipped out before she could stop them. “Too late to worry about that now, isn’t it?”

Camila’s eyes instantly welled up with tears, shimmering with hurt and disbelief. “Chase…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

Chase paused for a heartbeat, then turned to the concierge with a cold, unwavering voice. “Camila Rae is my wife.”

Nora stood rooted to the spot, her mind reeling in shock as she stared at him, unable to comprehend the betrayal.

“Chase…” she began, but he cut her off softly, barely moving his lips. “Just go along with it. Camila’s young and sensitive. She couldn’t possibly kneel in front of everyone.”

And Nora could?

Noticing the color draining from her face, Chase softened his tone slightly, attempting to coax her. “You’ve always dreamed of that Peninsula Manor house, haven’t you? I’ll buy it for you—tonight. All you have to do is enter as my mistress.”

Nearby guests had started to whisper, their voices thick with scorn and disbelief.

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

“Exactly. The Whitmore Group only survived that crisis 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 is just pathetic.”

Nora’s face paled further, a deep wave of humiliation washing over her like a cold tide. She had never felt so exposed, so utterly degraded.

Drawing in a steady breath to steady herself, she reached into her bag and pulled out their marriage certificate. The document was her only shield against the cruel spectacle unfolding.

Nora’s body froze, her heart pounding wildly. “What…?”

His voice on the line was icy, void of any warmth. “I told you. As my contractual wife, you were supposed to behave. You embarrassed Camila in public today. So now, I’ll punish you—tenfold.”

“She knelt for ten minutes. You’ll kneel here for ten hours. On concrete. Alone.”

A cold dread settled deep in Nora’s chest, squeezing her heart mercilessly. She fought back tears, trying to speak, but her words were cut off by a sickly sweet voice on the other end.

“Chase, ten hours is a bit much, isn’t it? I only knelt for ten minutes and my knees were already bruised…”

“What? You’re bruised?” His tone shifted instantly, sharp and furious. “Let me see… That bitch deserves worse. Break her kneecaps. Do it now.”

The next sounds that reached Nora’s ears were chilling—a wet, lingering kiss, followed by the tearing of a condom wrapper.

Then came the searing pain, white-hot and blinding, shooting mercilessly through her legs.

Her kneecaps had been shattered.