Where Destiny Forgot Us 12

Where Destiny Forgot Us 12 Summary

Nora had fallen seriously ill after being caught in a heavy rainstorm, suffering from a persistent high fever that left her weak for three days. Just as she began to recover, Chase insisted she accompany him to a grand banquet at the Thai Imperial Hotel. Upon entering, Nora was shocked to see Camila wearing the designer gown she had long desired but never received. Their tense eye contact revealed deep-seated animosity.

 

At the entrance, the concierge informed them of a cultural policy requiring male guests to be accompanied by their legal spouse, and if bringing a mistress, she must kneel and bow. Camila defiantly refused to kneel and insisted she was not Chase’s mistress. Nora retorted sharply, prompting Chase to declare Camila as his wife, leaving Nora stunned and humiliated. Chase then offered Nora a deal: attend the event as his mistress, and he would buy her the house she wanted, further deepening Nora’s humiliation amid the guests’ scornful whispers.

 

During the meal, Camila was forced to kneel and serve both Chase and Nora, tears threatening to fall but never quite spilling. Nora kept her composure, holding up their marriage certificate as proof of her status. Chase, clearly uncomfortable, questioned Nora’s satisfaction in publicly shaming Camila. Nora firmly stated she would use the certificate as she saw fit. The tension escalated until Chase abruptly left, carrying Camila, leaving Nora to face the judgmental stares of the guests before she fled the hotel, her strength fading.

 

Outside, Nora lost consciousness and later awoke bound and kneeling in an underground parking garage, surrounded by masked men taking photos. She pleaded for release, claiming her status as Chase’s legal wife, but they responded with cruelty. Chase then called, coldly accusing her of embarrassing Camila and announcing a harsh punishment: Nora was to kneel alone on concrete for ten hours. Despite protests, Chase ordered her kneecaps to be broken, and Nora was subjected to excruciating pain as her knees were shattered, leaving her in agony.

Nora had fallen seriously ill after being caught in a relentless downpour, her body wracked by a high fever that lingered stubbornly for three long days. The illness drained her strength, leaving her weak and fragile.

No sooner had she begun to recover than Chase insisted she accompany him to a lavish banquet held at the Thai Imperial Hotel in Bellwood. The grand entrance hall buzzed with murmurs and glittering chandeliers cast a warm glow over the polished marble floors.

As Nora stepped inside, her gaze landed on Camila. To her shock, Camila was adorned in the very designer gown Nora had pleaded with Chase to buy for her—countless times over—but had never once received. The sight twisted a knot of bitterness in Nora’s chest.

Their eyes locked, and the atmosphere between them crackled with unspoken animosity, thick enough to be almost tangible.

The concierge approached with a polite but firm tone. “Mr. Whitmore, Mrs. Whitmore,” he said, “according to the hotel’s cultural policy, male guests may only enter accompanied by their legal spouse. Should you wish to bring a mistress, she must kneel and bow at the entrance.”

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 am not your mistress, either, hmph!”

Nora couldn’t suppress the sharp retort that sprang from her lips. “Isn’t it a little late to be worried about that now?”

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

For a brief moment, Chase faltered, but then he turned to the concierge and stated flatly, “Camila Rae is my wife.”

Nora stood frozen, disbelief washing over her like a cold wave. “Chase…” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Just go along with it,” Chase murmured quietly, barely moving his lips. “Camila’s young, sensitive. She couldn’t possibly kneel in front of everyone.”

And what about Nora? Was she expected to?

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

The nearby guests began to murmur among themselves, their voices dripping 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 of that marriage. And now he’s turning his back on her—for a mistress?”

“Tsk, honestly? That little canary over there looks more like the real wife. The Langston girl just seems pathetic.”

Nora’s face paled further, her humiliation deepening with every whispered word.

Taking a steady breath to compose herself, Nora reached into her bag and pulled out their marriage certificate, holding it up as proof.

Under pressure, Camila was forced to kneel, remaining on the cold floor throughout the entire meal, serving both Chase and Nora. Her delicate, doll-like features crumpled with misery, tears trembling on the edge of spilling but never quite falling—enough to wrench anyone’s heart.

Nora kept her expression neutral, but Chase’s discomfort was obvious. Through clenched teeth, he hissed, “Nora, are you satisfied now? Publicly shaming Camila like this?”

Nora bit her lip, her voice steady but firm. “The marriage certificate was signed willingly. I never forced you. I will use it whenever I see fit.”

Halfway through the meal, Chase abruptly kicked the table, sending silverware and glasses crashing to the floor. Without a word, he stormed out, carrying Camila in his arms.

The glances that followed Nora were heavy with pity, mockery, and disdain—feelings so overwhelming they threatened to drown her. Her face turned an ashen shade, her appetite vanished, and she quickly exited the hotel.

But the moment she stepped outside, darkness swallowed her vision.

When she finally regained consciousness, she found herself bound in an underground parking garage. Her knees were tightly tied to the cold concrete floor, forcing her into a humiliating kneeling position.

A group of masked men circled her, snapping photos from every angle with cold detachment.

Panic surged through Nora. “What are you doing?! Let me go! I’m Chase Whitmore’s legal wife! If he finds out, he’ll never forgive you for this!”

The men only responded with cruel sneers.

Suddenly, her phone lit up. The screen displayed Chase’s name.

“Do you admit fault now?” his voice was cold, devoid of any warmth.

Nora froze. “…What?”

His tone remained icy and emotionless. “I told you. As my contractual wife, you were supposed to behave. You embarrassed Camila in public today. Now, I will punish you—tenfold.”

“She knelt for ten minutes,” he continued. “You will kneel here for ten hours. On concrete. Alone.”

A cold dread plunged into Nora’s chest, squeezing her heart mercilessly. She fought back tears, struggling to speak, but was cut off by a sickly sweet voice on the other end.

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

“What? Bruised?” His voice shifted instantly, sharp and commanding. “Let me see… That bitch deserves worse. Break her kneecaps. Do it now.”

Then came the chilling sound of a kiss, followed by the unmistakable tear of a condom wrapper.

Suddenly, white-hot, searing pain exploded through Nora’s legs. The agony was blinding, radiating fiercely from her knees.

Her kneecaps had been shattered.