Divorce Him, Then Dazzle novel Chapter 12

The pinned chat sat at the very top of Barbara’s messages, the nickname “W” standing out every time she unlocked her phone. And now, there it was again—another message from W.

She sat up straighter, gripping her phone as a small, traitorous thrill slipped through her when his message appeared. They’d added each other nearly three years ago but it had taken Barbara over two years just to chip away at his walls. Only in the last six months had their conversations started to flow, but lately he’d seemed so much warmer. So much more interested.

It felt like all her patience was finally paying off.

None of it was accidental—the late-night messages, the curated photos, the carefully measured sweetness, all of it designed to make her look effortless and untouchable.

Lambert. The man who controlled the Whites’ empire.

The other men around Camilla were impressive, sure. But compared to Lambert, they barely registered in Barbara’s mind.

If she could secure Lambert as her boyfriend, that would be her moment—the perfect excuse to return home in style.

But for now, it was still too soon.

Barbara could feel he was starting to fall for her. The spark was there, just waiting for a nudge. All she needed was the right push to get him to drop the pretense and actually ask her out. She just needed to pick her moment.

Back in the DS Group Tower, Lambert set down his phone, peeled off his glasses, and massaged the bridge of his nose.

He pressed the intercom. “Could you prepare a gift—”

He paused, frowning, then stopped himself. “Forget it.”

Right now just wasn’t the time for presents. If he was going to give anything, it had to mean something, and that meant picking it out himself.

The yacht party was set for tomorrow.

He handed the whole affair off to Faust, who always handled these things with flair. Parties, galas, salons, fashion shows, art exhibits—Faust thrived on them all. Going out to sea was just another day for Faust.

She couldn’t turn him down, not when he was the gentle elder of the family. Camilla hadn’t lived with the senior Whites since marrying Daniel, but Jackson had always treated her with warmth. She couldn’t bring herself to refuse him.

After hanging up, Camilla tried to reassure herself—it was just one party. She would show her face, make the rounds, and that would be enough.

But Daniel had other ideas. He brought in a makeup artist who spent two hours on her hair and makeup, then slipped her into a designer dress. He looked her over, obviously pleased.

“You’re my wife,” he said. “You’re representing the Whites. Don’t embarrass me out there, understood? If you had even half of Barbie’s sensibility, I wouldn’t have to worry so much.”

Camilla said nothing. She simply got into the car.

When they pulled up to the marina, she was overwhelmed. The yacht was truly massive, gleaming white in the sun.

She didn’t know it yet, but the moment she stepped onboard, her life was about to split into before and after.