Divorced the Cheat Married the Fleet (Camilla and Lance) novel Chapter 176

Camilla’s little boy is only five, and because everyone was crowding around and making such a scene, he’s already not doing well. If something actually happens to him, who’s going to take responsibility?

How could she possibly break through that circle of people all alone? Even her voice was swallowed up by all the questions being thrown her way, wave after wave.

Dahlia felt her heart ache, sharp and heavy. She didn’t even dare glance at Camilla, knowing deep down that whatever she felt, Camilla must feel a hundred times worse.

Then, right as the standoff dragged on, there was the harsh sound of an engine tearing through the air. More cars followed, lining up one after another.

At the front was a sleek motorcycle. Lance climbed off and waved his arm. “Clear the way.”

The doors of a dozen black sedans popped open all at once, and a team of bodyguards climbed out. They hardly hesitated, just started pulling people out of the crowd, fast and efficient.

It took barely a minute for them to push the reporters away from Camilla.

Instead of settling down, the reporters got even more worked up. Cameras flashed. Shouting now, they bombarded Lance with questions. “Who are you to Mrs. Carter?” “You came rushing in to help—are you close with Mrs. Carter?” “What’s your connection to her son?”

They kept snapping photos, but Lance still had his helmet on, so no one could get a look at his face. The mystery only made them more desperate to figure out who he was.

Lance let out a little laugh, about to throw back a cutting remark, but Camilla pulled him back. “Lance, don’t engage. Go check on Jasper first.”

She knew exactly how sharp his tongue could be and dreaded the storm he’d stir up if he let loose.

Camilla couldn’t handle another mess right now. She just needed Lance to stop. What mattered most was Jasper—once she knew he was okay, she’d deal with Barnard.

Lance noticed how pale she looked. He didn’t say a word—just bent down and gently scooped her into his arms, striding toward the entrance.

The reporters tried to follow, but the bodyguards formed a wall, blocking them completely.

Ever since Lance showed up, Dahlia had been standing there stunned. She only snapped out of it when she saw Camilla in his arms and hurried after them.

Lance’s chest was solid and reassuring, his steps sure and steady. Camilla, cradled against him, didn’t feel a single bump. It was the kind of comfort anyone could get used to, but it also made her feel on edge.

“Lance, put me down,” Camilla said, voice quiet.

A teasing smile flashed over his lips. “A minute ago it was ‘Lance,’ now it’s just ‘Lance’?” Not waiting for her response, he kept going. “You can barely stand. Quit trying to be tough. Camilla, when something’s too much, why not just call me? You think I’m as useless as Barnard? Haven’t I told you? Anything you need, you just have to ask.”

She stopped midsentence when she heard the front door. Her whole face changed when she saw Camilla, pure relief washing over her features. “Camilla, thank God you’re here. Jasper locked himself in almost half an hour ago. Please, try talking to him.”

Camilla found his room key. The room was dark—every curtain drawn, not a trace of sunlight seeping in. Jasper was curled up on the floor, knees tucked tightly to his chest, head buried away, making himself as small as he could.

Even when he heard Camilla come in, he didn’t move.

She walked over and crouched beside him. “Jasper, what’s going on? What are you thinking about? Will you talk to Mommy?”

He didn’t budge.

Even the family dog, Snow, circled him, tail wagging hopefully. Jasper still didn’t look up.

Camilla tried again, softer this time. “Mommy’s so worried about you. Will you say something?”

Finally, Jasper lifted his head. His eyes were so red, it looked like he’d been crying for ages. His voice was small as he asked, “Mommy, whose son am I really?”