Page 95 of Harder Betrayal

I was on the verge of tears, tears I couldn’t contain. I told this man I loved him, and he stripped me down to nothing. When my kids opened their presents under the Christmas tree, I’d pictured Grave there with us, bonding with my son, being protective of my daughter, dreaming of a life where I could have everyone I loved under the same roof. I imagined him as my husband, fucking me first thing in the morning before he left for work and again before we went to sleep. It was a dream come true.

But now that I knew how he really felt, it wasn’t a dream…but a fucking fantasy.

Tears pouring down my face, sobs about to crack my chest, I made it back to the elevator and hit the button so hard it slightly turned in the socket. But it still lit up like it was functioning. I threw my coat over my shoulders, and thankfully, the doors opened immediately.

I hit the button and faced the back of the elevator, not wanting him to see me ugly cry. Not wanting him to know that he’d hurt me far more than my ex-husband ever did. The doors shut, and I finally started to move downstairs.

He didn’t come after me.

This was it—the end.

29

GRAVE

“Sir, Camille is here to see you.” My butler Raymond entered my study with his hands behind his back, glasses on the bridge of his nose.

I sat behind my desk, my eyes tired because I’d been up all night. I got some work done, but all of it was half-assed. “Send her away.”

He gave a slight bow then disappeared.

I sank in my chair and looked out the window. It was raining. Raindrops pelted the window frame like tiny little drums.

He returned moments later. “Sir, she insists.”

“Well, I insist on her getting the fuck out of my house.” My voice rose immediately, going from zero to sixty in a fraction of a second.

Even my butler gave a flinch at my anger.

Camille appeared behind him, following the voices like a trail of breadcrumbs.

My butler looked at her then looked at me.

I gave her a furious stare before I looked out the window again.

My butler left the room, closing the door behind him.

Camille stared at me for a few seconds before she sat in one of the chairs facing my desk.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Talk about what?”

My face slowly turned back to hers, seeing the genuine surprise on her face.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Why are you so angry?”

Maybe she didn’t know. “I just said I didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t I? What do you want?”

She watched me for a few seconds, her eyes shifting back and forth between mine. “Did something happen with—”

“Goddammit.” I slammed my fist down hard, and she jumped. “What do you want?”

Now she was quiet. She just examined me from across the desk. Her breaths were quicker, like my sudden outburst still made her uneasy. It’d been a long time since she’d seen me like this. Probably brought back a lot of memories. “Um…I don’t know what to do about Cauldron. But you seem to be having a rough day, so I’ll just go…”

“Why are you asking me?”

“Because I know you’ll tell me the truth. You can be impartial since you know us separately.”