I Saved My Husband, He Repaid Me With Betrayal—So I Faked My Death

"Camille, you gave up everything to help Rafael rebuild his family. You spent all your wealth, and he treated you like his most precious treasure ever since."

"Now he's just gotten a little too close to Katherine—it doesn't necessarily mean anything. Why go as far as faking your own death?"

Her friend's voice trembled with worry as she watched Camille sign the falsedeath agreement.

The pen in Camille's hand paused for a moment.

Just close?

So Rafael had played his role well. No one outside knew the filth between him and Katherine. But no matter how well he hid it, the pain he caused her couldn't be undone.

Thinking of her parents—dead for years, their souls unable to rest in peace—made Camille's body tremble with rage.

"I have no other choice. There's no going back between Rafael and me. Faking my death is the only way to be free. Please, stop trying to persuade me."

With that, she signed the final stroke.

Her friend sighed, helpless. "If Uncle and Aunt knew things had come to this, they would be heartbroken."

A bitter smile tugged at Camille's lips, her eyes turning red. But more than grief, what burned in her chest was guilt and regret.

Seven years ago, when the Holmes family was driven to the brink of bankruptcy by rivals, Rafael's parents died of rage and despair. Everyone thought Rafael was finished—until Camille, his childhood sweetheart, persuaded her parents to pour in their fortune and connections to save him. That choice left her own family in ruins.

When Rafael finally rose from the ashes, he crushed everyone who had once mocked Camille's family, rejected countless political marriages, and married her with fierce determination.

Their marriage had been the envy of all—sweet, devoted, seemingly unshakable. Camille had believed she had found the right man.

Until half a year ago.

A paparazzo showed up at her door with intimate photos of Rafael and Katherine, demanding money. Camille, who could not tolerate the slightest betrayal, demanded divorce on the spot.

Rafael panicked. He knelt at her parents' grave for three days and nights, begging for her forgiveness.

However, Camille remained resolute, unwavering in her stance.

In desperation, Rafael resorted to a drastic threat. "Camille, I was drunk and foolish! You know you're the only one in my heart! If you don't believe me, I'll kill myself right here and now!"

This time, Camille's heart began to soften.

After that, he reported his every move, and stayed by her side whenever he wasn't working. Slowly, she let down her guard.

But four months later, he told her Katherine was pregnant and he wanted to keep the child.

"Rafael, it's either the illegitimate child or me. Choose."

"The child is innocent. And it's my blood. Please, don't force me."

Her disappointment reached the breaking point. She prepared to file for divorce, only for him to threaten her:

"A scandal will crash the company's stock. And remember—today's Holmes family carries the legacy of your parents too. Can you bear to see it all destroyed?"

So she swallowed her fury.

But her coldness pushed him away. He came home less and less, until their marriage was an empty shell.

She thought they would just drag on like that.

Until three days ago.

A cemetery worker called, claiming Rafael had brought people to dig up her parents' graves.

When she arrived, the tomb was already desecrated.

From a distance, she saw Rafael carefully take a dead dog from Katherine's hands and gently lower it into her parents' grave.

Camille's body went cold, rage sparking through her like lightning, draining every ounce of strength from her body.

The wind carried his voice to her ears. "This is the site I chose so carefully for Camille's parents. If Browny is buried here, it will rest in peace."

Katherine, clutching her belly with fake tears glistening in her eyes, whispered, "But this is Miss Hudson's parents' grave... Won't she be angry?"

"Don't worry about it. You're carrying my child. As long as you're at peace, digging up a grave is nothing."

His words, so light and casual, struck Camille like bullets to the chest.

It was nothing?

So in his eyes, her parents were worth less than Katherine's dog?!

Thunder cracked, and rain poured. Rafael wrapped Katherine in his coat and escorted her into the car, driving away without a backward glance.

Drenched to the bone, Camille could no longer make out the voices of those lingering by the tomb. Only after they drifted away, one by one, did she summon the strength to move, staggering forward on unsteady legs.

But the moment her eyes fell upon the broken urns—her parents' ashes washed away by the storm, her heart shattered beyond repair.

"AHHHH!" Her screams split the downpour.

She clawed at the mud with bleeding hands, but there was nothing left.

"Dad, Mom, I'm sorry! It's my fault you died so horribly, I'm sorry your ashes were desecrated! I trusted the wrong man!"

She remembered their last words, recorded by the murderers who had slit their throats as revenge against Rafael.

"Camille... our only worry... is you. Rafael, take care of her. Don't let her suffer... Don't let her be bullied..."

Rafael had once sworn over their broken bodies that he would protect her for life.

Yet now, as people scatter and warmth faded, his promise had long turned cold.

For Katherine's sake, he had made sure even their souls couldn't rest.

Camille wept until she fainted.

In her dream, her parents stroked her hair, their eyes full of love.

"Camille, don't cry. Never sacrifice yourself for anyone. If you're unhappy, start a new life."

When she opened her eyes, the storm had passed.

She finally understood. It was time to leave Rafael.

—

That evening, after returning home from her friend's, Camille pulled out an old photo album. Memories flooded back, tears streaming down her face—so lost in thought she didn't notice someone behind her.

"What are you so focused on?"

Rafael wrapped an arm around her shoulders, his voice soft.

She flinched, turning to him. His eyes flickered with guilt when he saw her tears and the album in her hands.

"Thinking about your parents? It's been a while since we visited their grave. Tomorrow, let me take you there."

Her hatred surged.

To pay respects? To where? To that dog you buried there?

"I don't want to go," she flatly refused.

He looked surprised, then forced a smile. "Maybe that's better... so you don't get upset. How about I—"

"Dingding."

Her phone buzzed. A message from her friend flashed on the screen. [The falsedeath certificate had been finalized.]

Rafael leaned over to peek, but she quickly put her phone away. With his obsessive nature, if he knew she planned to vanish through death, he would never let her go.

To divert him, she said, "Take me to the temple tomorrow. I want to burn incense on my parents' memorial tablet."

His face lit up. Since Katherine's pregnancy, Camille hadn't once asked him to accompany her. He pulled her close and kissed the top of her head.

"I'm sorry for neglecting you lately. Don't worry—once Katherine gives birth, I'll make it up to you."

But to Camille, no apology mattered anymore.

In ten days, her ties to Rafael would be severed forever.

Inside the temple, Rafael knelt devoutly on a prayer mat, palms pressed together.

"Dad, Mom... I've been busy lately and haven't had time to bring Camille to visit you."

"So much has happened. I've failed the promise I made to you."

"Enough. Stop talking."

Camille's voice was cold, slicing through his words. "My parents don't need to hear your filth."

Guilt flickered across Rafael's face, but he pressed on, swearing solemnly, "I will never hurt you again. If I do, may I die a terrible death."

How many times had she heard such hollow vows? She had already lost count. Now, they only made her sick.

"Well, well, Miss Hudson, you're here to burn incense too?"

Katherine's voice rang out mockingly as she walked in. "Since I'm here, I should at least pay my respects to the Hudson elders."

Camille's face darkened. She clenched her jaw and spat out a single word, "Leave."

Feigning innocence, Katherine's tone was vicious. "Why so hostile? I wasn't the one who killed your parents. Who even cares about bowing to two dead people anyway? I'd be afraid of catching their bad—ah!"

The crack of a slap cut her off. Camille's palm struck hard, sending Katherine sprawling onto the floor.

"You—you dare hit me?!" she screeched. "Rafael! Are you just going to let her do that?"

Without shame, she clung to him in front of everyone, demanding his protection.

But instead of support, Rafael snapped at her, "Didn't you hear her? Get out! Do you think this is a place for your nonsense?"

A guard hauled Katherine away, her protests echoing through the temple.

Rafael glanced at Camille's stony expression, guilt twisting inside him.

"She's pregnant. Her words are harsh, but don't take them to heart. Let me stay and chant with you."

Camille drew a deep breath. She would not let a petty woman like Katherine taint her prayers.

She forced herself to ignore it. But less than ten minutes later, Rafael's phone rang.

A guard reported that Katherine was clutching her belly in pain after leaving the temple.

"What?! Take her to the hospital—I'll be right there!"

Without a backward glance, he rushed out, leaving Camille alone.

She stared at the abandoned scripture on the floor. Her face was calm, but her chest ached with bitterness.

When her parents had first passed, Rafael had come to this temple every month.

One thousand steps, one thousand prostrations.

He had copied sutras in his own blood, recited prayers day and night for years without pause.

Once, even when sick, he refused to rest—collapsing in the prayer hall.

Camille cried by his hospital bed, begging him to stop. But he only smiled faintly.

"As long as it can make you feel at ease, I'll do anything even if I must carve my bones to build a tower in their honor."

Those vows, once so sincere, were long gone—scattered like dust in the wind.

Camille spent the entire night chanting scripture. Only when dawn broke did she finally return home.

The moment she stepped into her bedroom, Rafael—reeking of alcohol—pinned her down on the bed.

Her body was weak from sleeplessness; no matter how she struggled, she could not escape.

He ravaged her with drunken hunger, and when the final rush of heat filled her body, Camille froze as though struck by lightning.

"Rafael! Are you insane?! Why didn't you use protection?"

"Why bother? You can't have children anyway. What's the difference? If by chance you could, wouldn't that be even better?"

The cruelty of his words crushed her chest. Rage surged, and she slapped him hard across the face.

Her heart throbbed with a familiar ache, like invisible hands squeezing it tight.

Back then, her parents had not been the only targets of Rafael's enemies—she also had been kidnapped during their funeral. By some twisted mercy, the kidnappers died in a car crash while fleeing, but Camille had been gravely injured.

The doctors had told her she would likely never bear children.

For years afterward, Rafael had treated her with care, always cautious, never forgetting protection.

But now—his drunken words revealed the truth. He had long since forgotten her pain.

Redeyed, Camille pushed him away and tried to stand.

But the moment her feet touched the floor, a sharp cramp tore through her abdomen. Hot blood spilled down her legs.

The world spun.

And then everything went black.

When Camille opened her eyes again, she was lying in a hospital bed.

The stabbing pain in her lower abdomen faded, leaving only a haze of dizziness. She was just about to sit up when voices drifted in from outside the ward—Rafael speaking with the doctor.

"Miss Hudson is nearly two months pregnant now. Next time, you really shouldn't be so reckless."

"I didn't expect her to get pregnant. I'll be more careful in the future..."

Pregnant?

Her trembling hand instinctively moved to her belly. She couldn't believe that there was truly a tiny life growing inside her.

Shock coursed through her, mingling with a wave of uncertainty. Should she feel joy... or dread?

Because this child had come at the worst possible time.

Even worse, there had been no trace of delight in Rafael's voice—only annoyance, maybe even reluctance.

Would he even care for this child at all?

Before she could gather her scattered thoughts, a shrill voice pierced the corridor. Katherine had arrived.

"Rafael, Camille is pregnant? You're not going to abandon me and our child, are you? You can't do this to us!"

"Don't overthink it. Her body might not even carry this pregnancy to term. I won't give up our child for hers."

"But she's your wife. Now that she's pregnant, she'll never accept me and my baby! What if she lashes out at us—or files for divorce with the child? What will you do then?"

Katherine sobbed pitifully, every word probing at his stance.

The next moment, Rafael's cold voice cut through the air.

"She wouldn't dare touch you. As for herself... she has nothing. She's just a fallen heiress."

"For years, she has lived off me, clinging to her socalled sacrifices like some useless parasite. Without me, she couldn't survive a single day—and I won't allow her to take my bloodline away from me."

The words landed like knives, shredding Camille's dignity to pieces.

So this was how he saw her—a freeloader, a burden. She had poured her family fortune into reviving his, and in his eyes, it was nothing but leverage, a debt she still owed.

How pathetic. How laughable.

Anger surged through her, and she wanted to fling open the door, to confront him and strip away the mask. But just as she reached the doorway, Katherine raised the matter of inheritance.

“What’s there to say? Your child has Holmes and Dixon families as support—his future is already bright. Naturally, he's far more qualified to inherit my family’s business.

"As for Camille... She has nothing. Her child will end up the same—a parasite, just like her."

Katherine beamed with delight, leaning sweetly into his arms as though victory was already hers.

Camille's nails dug deep into the wooden doorframe, her teeth biting into her lip to keep from making a sound.

The Holmes family had risen by trampling over the foundation her parents built, thriving on the blood and sweat of the Hudsons.

And now Rafael wanted to hand all of it to an illegitimate child.

Watching them leave hand in hand, hatred burned so fiercely inside her she thought her chest might split apart. But she had no power, no means to fight them headon.

All she could do was leave—leave with her child, and put as much distance as possible between herself and this filthy, treacherous family.

—

Later that afternoon, Rafael returned to the hospital. He carried a thermos of soup he had prepared himself. His eyes lit up the moment he saw she was awake, his tone brimming with feigned excitement.

"Camille, I'm so happy! I can't believe we're going to have a child!"

"I've already thought of names. If it's a girl, she'll be Felicity. If it's a boy, he'll be Russell!"

"We'll raise the baby together, just the three of us..."

He rattled on in excitement, and Camille couldn't tell if he was simply a gifted actor—or if some part of him truly meant it.

There had been a time, right after their wedding, when they too had dreamed of a future like this. Back then, she had never imagined things would turn out this way.

But his act didn't last long. By evening, the doctor came to take her for a blood test. Halfway through, Rafael got word that Katherine was at the hospital again—claiming her morning sickness had gotten worse.

Without hesitation, he rushed off, leaving Camille behind.

Watching his retreating figure, she told herself she no longer expected anything from him. And yet... disappointment still stung. He knew how much she feared needles. In the past, whenever she needed a test or treatment, he would hold her close, press his warm palm over her eyes, and whisper reassurance until she calmed down.

That man no longer existed. He had become someone else's protector.

Her chest tightened with grief—but suddenly, a sharp, unnatural pain shot through her arm.

Startled, Camille turned her head.

Looking at the man in front of her, she realized the doctor had been switched out. And now, he was injecting a pale green liquid straight into her vein.

Camille thrashed in panic, but rough hands pinned down her wrists and ankles, another clamped over her mouth. She was nothing more than meat laid on the butcher's block, helpless beneath the blade.

The injection ended quickly. Then they dragged her into another room.

A nurse stuffed gauze into her mouth, strapped her tightly to the bed, and picked up an electric probe, pressing it against her belly.

The low, ominous hum of the machine sounded like a death curse. Camille's desperate cries dissolved into muffled whimpers.

Pain like needles stabbing into her abdomen spread through her body in violent waves. She convulsed, her limbs jerking uncontrollably.

One round ended—only for the nurse to jab another needle into her arm before resuming the shocks.

Her mind slipped into a haze. Her body lost control of even its most basic functions. The torment dragged on, hour after hour, until deep into the night.

When it finally ended, she lay crumpled like a beaten dog in filth and stench. That was when Katherine strolled in.

"Tsk, tsk... look at you, Miss Hudson—so dirty and foul."

She waved a hand in front of her nose in mock disgust, then nudged Camille's stomach with the tip of her shoe.

Malice gleamed in her eyes.

"Don't worry. I don't intend to kill that bastard in your belly. I just want you and that child—to suffer a little first."

Looking at her smug, venomous expression, Camille's hatred boiled over.

"You're nothing but a beast! If you want Rafael, that secondhand trash, take him! But why hurt my child?"

"If you're so capable, why don't you make him divorce me and marry you openly?"

Her words struck like a whip, and Katherine's face twisted with fury.

"If it hadn't been for your scheming parents, the marriage alliance with him would have been mine!"

"But what did you gain? You bled your family dry, and still ended up with nothing!"

"And now? Rafael loves me. Even the slightest pregnancy sickness, and he's frantic with worry! While you were being electrocuted, soiled and broken, he was listening to my baby's heartbeat."

"Camille, accept it—you and your cursed family were born cheap. You'll never beat me!"

The venom in her words snapped Camille's restraint. With every ounce of strength left, she lunged at Katherine.

But just as she was about to reach her, Rafael burst into the room.

He instinctively pulled Katherine into his arms and shoved Camille away. She crashed to the floor, pain shooting through her battered body.

When he finally looked at her—her clothes fouled, her face was ghostly pale—his expression faltered. Guilt flickered, and he almost reached to help her up.

"Rafael! Thank heavens you came in time!" Katherine clung to him, tears spilling instantly. "Miss Hudson can't stand my child's existence. She tried to kill us both!"

Camille let out a bitter laugh at her shameless lie and forced out the truth—that Katherine had colluded with hospital staff to torture her.

But Rafael cut them both off, his face clouded with gloom.

"Enough! Both of you are pregnant, yet you can't behave yourselves? Must you stir up trouble again and again?"

"Katherine, I told you not to provoke Camille. Why can't you listen? If you're unwell, go home and rest instead of running about!"

His words sounded like a scolding, but his tone dripped with tenderness.

Then he turned to Camille. Seeing her filthy, trembling body, some flicker of pity softened his gaze.

"Camille, this is your fault too. Katherine may be a little willful, but you're also expecting. Shouldn't you both show each other some tolerance?"

Camille stared at him, stunned. Then a laugh broke from her lips—harsh, broken, edged with despair. Tears streamed down her face.

"You're right. I was wrong. Not just me—my parents, even this child's existence, everything is a mistake!"

"Rafael, if I could turn back time, seven years ago I would've let you rot in the mud where you belonged, never to rise again!"

His pupils contracted. A sharp, inexplicable ache stabbed his chest.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward, lifting her into his arms despite the filth clinging to her. His voice softened into desperate comfort.

"Camille, I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that. Don't be angry, please."

"You're carrying our child—you can't let your emotions spiral like this. Come home with me. I'll take you home."

Without sparing Katherine another glance, he strode out, carrying Camille in his arms.

After the chaos at the hospital, Rafael stayed home for three days straight.

He spared no expense hiring a maternity nurse, learned how to massage Camille's body himself, and even cooked her nutritious meals with his own hands.

Watching him bustle about so attentively, Camille felt an ache in her chest.

If not for the betrayals and the wounds carved into her heart, this scene would have been bliss.

But after everything, his tenderness now felt like mockery.

Still, she told herself—it wasn't so bad. As long as nothing happened, in five days she could slip away quietly.

So when Rafael suggested they visit the temple together to pray for their child's safety, she didn't refuse.

But when she returned to the hall holding the blessed bracelet given by the master, her blood froze.

Rafael was lighting a blessing lamp for Katherine's child.

And he had dared to place that lamp right beside her parents' memorial tablets.

Fury consumed her. Without thinking, she rushed forward and slapped the lotus lamp off the altar.

"Rafael! Have you no shame? Pray for your bastard if you want—I won't stop you. But how dare you defile my parents' spirits by putting it here! Aren't you afraid that by tainting their peace, you'll only curse that bastard child of yours instead?"

Her words lit his rage. His palm cracked across her face before he even realized it.

Both of them froze in shock.

But Rafael didn't help her up when she collapsed to the ground. Instead, his voice thundered through the temple.

"You're a mother yourself now! How can you be so cruel, so venomous as to curse an innocent child?"

Camille's ears rang from the blow. She laughed bitterly, tears burning her eyes.

"Cruel? Compared to you, I wouldn't dare claim the word."

His gaze flickered, as if her words had scraped against his guilty conscience. But he pressed on, unwilling to yield.

"Don't twist things to shift blame! Do you still think you're the rich heiress you once were? Stop clinging to that pride. If not for me marrying you, you'd have been begging for scraps just to survive!"

His sharp words pierced her heart like knives. Never had she imagined the man she once risked everything for would one day strip her dignity so ruthlessly.

"Rafael, have you forgotten? Everything you have now came from the Hudson family. My parents died because of it! And now you humiliate me in front of their tablets—are you even human?"

They stood locked in hostility when Katherine's call came through.

Rafael let out a long, weary sigh. With cold command, he ordered the guards to escort Camille home, then left in a hurry.

From that day on, she was placed under virtual house arrest. Rafael didn't return home, not even once. He didn't call, didn't send a message.

And yet, Camille knew his every move.

Katherine made sure she did—gleefully sending her updates every day.

Sometimes it was news of him accompanying her to burn incense at her dog's grave.

Sometimes it was videos of them shopping for baby supplies together.

Camille endured it, indifferently, until the third afternoon.

That was when Katherine called her via video chat.

The screen jolted—and Camille's world collapsed.

Her parents' memorial tablets were engulfed in flames.

Every muscle in her body went rigid. Then the camera shifted, and she saw Rafael shielding Katherine with his arm... while standing there, watching, as the tablets turned charred black.

Her mind nearly shattered. Her parents' ashes were already gone—if even the tablets were destroyed, she feared she would lose her last shred of sanity.

She stumbled to the front doors of the villa, pounding on them, screaming for the guards to let her out.

Minutes bled into hours but no one answered.

Her rage and grief surged, tearing through her chest.

With a final cry, blood gushed from her lips. Darkness swallowed her as she fainted.

Camille was jolted awake by Rafael's furious roar mixed with Katherine's sobbing.

"You almost caused Camille to lose the baby! If anything had happened to her, I would never forgive you!"

The moment he noticed Camille had woken up, Rafael yanked Katherine over to the bedside and forced her down.

"Kneel. Apologize to her."

Katherine's face twisted with reluctance, but under Rafael's thunderous expression, she had no choice but to bow her head.

From beginning to end, Camille said nothing. After driving Katherine away, Rafael dropped to his knees beside the bed with a heavy thud.

"Camille, it's my fault. I've indulged Katherine far too much, letting her do as she pleased."

"The fire at the temple was an accident—I've already found a respected monk to consecrate a new memorial tablet, and the offerings will soon resume. As for Katherine's blessing lantern, I had it removed. Please... don't be angry with me anymore."

His voice carried rare sincerity, even a hint of pleading humility.

But Camille's heart felt like dead wood, drained and numb. She could no longer afford to let emotions put her baby at risk. Her friend had arranged everything—the staged death would take place in three days. She could not allow anything to jeopardize the plan.

Seeing her remain silent, Rafael grew restless. A sudden thought struck him like lightning.

"Camille... are you hiding something from me?"

Her body stiffened.

"Emmet told me yesterday—you've been selling off the houses and company shares I once put under your name. Why?"

Camille's fingers, hidden beneath the quilt, loosened slightly. Thankfully, he was only asking about this.

Without a change in her expression, she explained calmly, "There's a charity auction tomorrow. I heard some of the jewelry my parents had once donated will be on display. I wanted to buy them back... as keepsakes."

Suspicion ebbed from Rafael's eyes. His brows slowly relaxed.

"You should have told me. Why trouble yourself raising funds? Tomorrow, I'll go with you. Whatever you want, we'll buy it back together."

...

The next evening, Camille, elegantly dressed, appeared at the auction with Rafael, who wore a bespoke suit.

But before the bidding began, Rafael suddenly announced he would light a sky lantern tonight. The hall buzzed in astonishment, but Camille remained composed. She knew it was nothing more than a performance, a façade of being a devoted husband.

By the end of the night, Camille succeeded in reclaiming her parents' jewelry, bringing her a rare sliver of relief.

She sat at the cliffside bar afterward, gently brushing her fingertips over the gemstones that shimmered in the dim light. Her parents' graves had been dug up, their memorial tablets burned, and the family estate long gone. These jewels were all she had left to hold on to.

As she gazed at a necklace in her hand, lost in thought, a shadow fell across her. A hand snatched it away.

"Well, isn't this gorgeous? Miss Hudson, you really stole the spotlight tonight. And Rafael is so generous, spending so much on you. Since you've gained so much, why not give this necklace to me?"

It was Katherine. Somehow, she had found her way into the auction as well. Camille hadn't noticed her earlier.

"Give it back! That's not yours!" Camille shouted anxiously.

"Why so stingy, Miss Hudson? It's just one—"

"Katherine!" Rafael's voice cut through her mockery like a blade. "Enough! That necklace is Camille's parents' keepsake. Return it!"

Katherine's eyes welled up instantly, her tone pitiful. "Fine! Who would want a dead person's trinket anyway? If you don't want me to have it, then forget it. No need to yell at me!"

With feigned indignation, she flung the necklace—hurling it with deliberate force. It arced over the bar counter and vanished into the cliffside abyss.

"Wait—!"

Camille lunged instinctively, reaching out to snatch it back. But the gown she wore hampered her movements. And Katherine, pretending to "help," pressed against her waist—shoving her instead of steadying.

Her footing slipped. Her body toppled over the bar's edge.

In the brief instant before the plunge, she caught sight of Rafael—rushing forward, but not toward her. He had his arms wrapped protectively around Katherine, who had twisted her ankle.

The sea swallowed her with a merciless roar.

Icy water pierced her lungs. Her stomach throbbed with sharp, unbearable pain. She clutched at her belly as she sank deeper and deeper.

'Baby... I'm sorry. In this life... your mother couldn't protect you after all...'