Divorce Him, Then Dazzle novel Chapter 30

Lambert walked in, dressed in nothing but a crisp white shirt and tailored slacks. Even just standing there, he radiated authority. There was something about the way he carried himself. You just knew he was the one in charge.

“How is Camilla?” Faust got up from his seat, concern in his voice. Lambert glanced at him, cold and silent.

Well, that was a clear no. Asking about her was apparently off-limits. Lambert was protective, almost to the point of being defensive.

Faust caught on and quickly changed the topic. “Owen just told me that Daniel hasn’t so much as touched Camilla in the three years they’ve been married. Did you know that?”

Lambert’s attention snapped to him, eyes sharp.

Faust couldn’t help but feel a little satisfied. He rarely got to see real emotion from Lambert, but today was different. Surprise, disbelief—it was all written on his face. There was no way Lambert had known.

But that mask of shock was gone as quickly as it appeared. He turned to Owen. “The Gateses have a project. You’ll be in charge of coordinating.”

Owen stared, stunned. The first thing Lambert said to him was about work? Nobody ever trusted him with anything. His family basically treated him like a disaster waiting to happen, afraid he’d fall for the next scam. But now, Lambert was handing him actual responsibility. For a second, he actually believed in himself. “Really? That’s amazing!”

Faust’s expression was a mix of pity and disbelief. Was Owen seriously buying this? Did he not realize that getting on Lambert’s bad side was never going to end well?

“Since you don’t have any objections,” Lambert said to Faust, “get him ready to leave the country. Immediately.”

“I’m on it,” Faust answered.

Owen’s jaw dropped. “Wait, leave the country? Why do I have to go overseas?”

Lambert didn’t even bother replying. He’d already phoned Owen’s dad on his way here. The so-called project was out in some remote, unforgiving desert. Owen’s father hadn’t liked the idea, but with Lambert asking, saying no wasn’t really an option.

Lambert turned on his heel and left the room.

Camilla was clearly in the middle of a bad dream, her brow furrowed, head shifting restlessly on the pillow.

“No,” she suddenly cried out.

Lambert hurried to her side.

With a gasp, Camilla shot upright, the sheet slipping—and she yanked it back up to cover herself on instinct.

A cool rush of air hit her skin. Camilla panicked, grabbed at the blanket and clutched it to her chest.

“Careful with your hand,” Lambert said, worry lacing his voice as he tried to help.

A sharp slap cracked through the room. Camilla had hit him—hard.