At her job

Camilla was thinking about the events to come, in her dark appartment. She looked at her wall, covered in pictures of Laura, pictures she had secretly been taking of her for the past years. Most of them were pierced or damaged. Probably from one of those time where she had thrown knives at them in a drunken rage.

But she wasn't crying right now. She wasn't lying on the floor, a half empty bottle of vodka in her hand, crawling in her own vomit. A quick spell had been enough to cure her hangover, and now she was focused again. Now was not a time for self-pity or crying about her loneliness. Now was a time for ****.

Someone told her once that her obsession with her ex's wife was unhealthy. Camilla had immediately turned this person into the carpet she stepped on every time she entered her appartment. She could hear the silent screams of pain and pleas for mercy everytime, but she wasn't exactly the forgiving type. Laura was gonna pay. Camilla knew she could take Peter from her anytime she wanted, but she didn't want to fuck up her love life only. No, that would be too nice. She wanted to destroy everything else before. Starting with her professional life. And today was the day where she would start.