She gave me a flirtatious wave before she got into the car and drove away.
Thank fuck that was over.
I walked back inside and headed to the stairs. When I looked up, I spotted her at the next landing, one hand on her hip and the other gripping the rail so hard she might break it. Her eyes were spotlights right on me, white-hot and angry.
I sighed before I walked up the steps to meet her. “Camille—”
Smack.
She hit me harder than she ever had. This time, she meant. Really meant it.
The heat in my cheek was like an inferno. I slowly turned back to her, swallowing my anger as best I could before I did something I couldn’t take back. “It’s not what it looked like—”
Smack.
I turned again, clenching my jaw to suppress my rage.
“Don’t insult me.” She marched off, taking the stairs to the third floor.
I stayed behind, letting the rage circulate through my veins before it left my nostrils. When I got my bearings, I went after her. “Camille.” I came up behind her in the hallway and grabbed her by the arm.
She tried her old trick of spinning before elbowing me in the face, but I was tired of getting smacked around, so I grabbed her like a steel cage and shoved her against the wall. She fought me hard, fought me like it was life-and-death, but I got her pinned in place. She tried to knee my groin, but I used my leg to block it.
“You’re going to shut up and listen to me.”
She tried to throw her body against mine, to no avail. “Bite me.”
“It’s not how it looked—”
“Her foot was so far up your leg, it was practically up your ass.” She was vicious, throwing her body against me, looking at me like I was a traitor. “And you did nothing.”
So she’d watched the entire thing. “There’s a reason for that.”
“Is it the same reason you’re taking her out on your yacht?” she snapped. “The same reason you let her kiss you?”
“I turned my cheek.”
“Didn’t look like it from my angle.”
“I. Turned. My. Cheek.”
“You should have told her you’re seeing someone. Plain and simple.”
“I’m not seeing someone.” Her jealousy only made me angry because this started off as an arrangement, and now it was fucking complicated. “You’re my whore. That’s it.”
All the fight left her body. Her wrists went limp in my grip. Her eyes glazed over with a misty fog. There was no bite of anger, just raw devastation.
I regretted the words the second I spoke them.
She turned her head and avoided my look. Then she walked away, no longer caged by my grip. With drooped shoulders and a bent back, she walked down the hallway to her bedroom, her pace slow, her appearance defeated.
I felt like shit.
She went into her bedroom and gently shut the door behind her.
TWENTY-FIVE
CAMILLE
After a long night of tears and a crumpled note, I packed my things and walked to the front door.
“Camille, what are you doing?” Hugo walked beside me, seeing the suitcase I pulled behind me and the bag on my arm.
“Could you call the valet? I need a ride.”
“Mr. Beaufort—”
“Mr. Beaufort has no issue with me leaving. So, please grab me that car.”
Hugo looked at me for a moment before he walked off. He didn’t head to the valet or to pick up the phone. He went in the direction of Cauldron’s study.
I released an annoyed sigh. “Fine, I’ll walk.” I went out the front door and pulled my luggage behind me. His security team watched me, watched how ridiculous I looked walking by the fountain and to the large iron gates.
“Camille.”
I didn’t look back. “Fuck off.”
His feet hit the pavement as he jogged to catch up to me. “Camille—”
“Leave me alone.” I made it to the gates and stared at the attendant to let me through. “Come on, open it.”
He glanced at Cauldron before he looked at me again, like he wouldn’t do a damn thing until his boss told him to.
I rounded on Cauldron. “You’ve tried to get rid of me for so long, so here you go. I’ll fucking climb the wall like last time, but I took all the clothes you bought me, so the damn bag is too heavy. So just open the fucking gates.”
He was in nothing but his sweatpants. No shirt. No shoes. And he stared at me like there would be no cooperation. “Let’s talk inside.”
“Fine. I’ll leave the fucking clothes.” I left the suitcase and walked to the wall.
He snatched the bag off my arm. “Camille.”
“Just let me go.”
“Give me five minutes, and if you still want to leave, my driver will take you anywhere you want.”
“If?” I asked incredulously. “Trust me, my ass is gone.” I marched back to the house and left my luggage behind so he could carry it.