Divorce Him, Then Dazzle novel Chapter 31

After the slap, both of them just stood there, stunned.

Lambert’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly, his eyes growing cold and unreadable.

No one had ever hit him before. Not once, not his whole life. People just didn’t dare. In all his twenty-eight years, this had to be the most shocking thing that had ever happened.

Camilla was caught off guard, too.

You’re not supposed to slap someone in the face. Especially not someone like Lambert—distant, untouchable, the kind of man who made you feel small just by standing there.

Her palm still tingled from the force she’d used. Maybe she shouldn’t have done it. But how could she not? How could he have crossed that line?

Suddenly, everything clicked into place.

After she drank the wine Daniel handed her, everything went black. What she remembered came in jagged flashes—and in every one of them, the man’s face looked like Lambert’s.

She thought Daniel wouldn’t make her spend the night with Owen. She never imagined he’d deliver her straight to someone with even more power.

The truth stung. Daniel had used her, plain and simple, treating her like she was nothing more than something to be traded.

Daniel’s betrayal cut deep. But the man standing in front of her wasn’t any better.

Lambert was staring at her, his expression all shadows and confusion, almost like he was shocked, almost like he thought *he* was the one being hurt.

Seriously? He felt wronged?

A tight ache formed in Camilla’s chest, tears stinging behind her eyes.

“Why did you hit me?” Lambert asked, his voice cool and distant, like none of this fazed him. It was as if someone else had just slapped him.

Her words shook as she forced them out. “Just... get out...”

He frowned. “I think you’ve got it all wrong.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, her lashes trembling. “Isn’t it enough? Haven’t you humiliated me enough?”

Lambert came back into the room. Camilla’s face was almost unreadable, angry and desperate all at once.

“Your clothes,” Lambert said quietly, placing a shopping bag at the end of the bed. “Get dressed. We should talk.”

Camilla drew a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. “Please, just leave.”

He studied her for a second, said nothing, then turned and walked out, shutting the door gently behind him.

She didn’t hesitate. Camilla yanked out the IV needle, pressed her hand for a minute to stop the bleeding, and pulled on her clothes as fast as she could.

When she opened the bedroom door, Lambert was standing right outside. He was tall, even more so without her high heels. She had to look up at him.

“We need to talk,” he said.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Camilla answered, her voice cold. She fought to keep her anger and hopelessness hidden. “Let me go.”

Calling the police felt pointless. Men like him didn’t face consequences—people like her just learned to live with it. It was harsh, but that was how the world worked. The powerful always had their own way. The rest of them… they just had to survive. It wasn’t fair. But it was real.