Reborn as my enemy's contract wife

They were going to kill her. And the sky was beautiful for it.

“I didn't do anything” was the only word in Camilia’s head as the metal door creaked open.

“Get up.” A voice echoed through the cold and dark room.

Camilia looked up to see a familiar face, one of the men that once bowed to her.

Now, he looked at her like she was nothing but trash to be disposed .

Camilia slowly lifted her face from the ground. “Where is he?” she whispered, voice hoarse and cracked. Her lips were broken, dried blood could be seen at the corners. “Where’s... Anthony?”

The guard didn't look her in the eyes, he couldn't. He turned to the wall, avoiding her gaze like the coward he was…maybe they all were. “We shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

He unlocked the cell, the rusted door groaning like it too disapproved, then stepped in and grabbed the chain linked to the cuffs around her wrists. With a hard yank, he pulled her up from the ground and dragged her forward.

Each step was torture, her thin and pale body quivered,her wrists bled as the spiky cuffs dug into them, reopening her old wounds .

Camilia let out a sigh as the warmth of the sun fell on her skin. It had been days…probably even weeks since she saw the sun, there was no time in that dungeon, only darkness. Camilia’s messy hair danced to the direction of the wind, each strand looking for a way to escape.

Her dirty and sore bare feet rejoiced at the feeling of the grass under it.

“ It's such nice weather, don't you think?” Camilia uttered, smiling to herself.

The guard pulled her towards the large field, the same one Camilia spent most of her time in. It seemed like everything she loved turned its back on her.

Camilia blinked at the blazing sun, her eyes weary and dim, her once perfect face now filled with wrinkles and cuts. The stench of death followed her wherever she went.

The guard dragged Camilia to the center of the field, dropping her to her weak knees.

Anthony stood at a close distance, surrounded by five armed men.

Behind him stood a beautiful woman with a slight resemblance to Camilia.

Rosita's eyes were swollen and red, the stain of tears trailing down to her chin.

Her hands were held together like a child in prayer, mascara smeared across her cheeks.

“Anthony, please!” Rosita pleaded, her voice trembling. “Don’t do this. She’s innocent, I swear…she wouldn’t…Camilia would never” she stuttered.

“She lied to all of us,” Anthony said flatly. “Even you…she put every single one of us in danger. Can't you see that?”

Rosita fell to her knees crying. “No. No, I don’t believe it. Please look at her! Look at what they have done to her. This isn’t right!”

Camilia's white nightgown sank around her, stained in blood and dirt. The wind continued to pull at her hair, tangled and wild