Divorced the Cheat Married the Fleet (Camilla and Lance) novel Chapter 360

He was just trying to embarrass Barnard in front of Camilla, to make sure she saw him at his most pathetic.

Annoyed, Barnard cursed Lance inwardly, then forced himself to face Camilla and mutter a stiff, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s what you call a sincere apology?” Lance scoffed, making no effort to hide his irritation. “Maybe you should search online and see how a real apology is done.”

A muscle twitched in Barnard’s temple. If their social status wasn't so different, he’d have walked out without another word. But then the Carter Group flashed in his mind, tottering on the edge of collapse, and he pushed his anger down. “Fine, what do you want me to do, Lance?”

“Kneel,” Lance said, his voice calm but final.

Barnard’s face went pale. “What?” Disbelief and anger tangled inside him. He raised his voice, nearly shrill. “Lance, don’t cross the line.”

“Cross the line? Weren’t you the one who came to beg? If you can’t do it, nobody’s forcing you. The door’s right there,” Lance replied, his tone nonchalant.

That shut Barnard up. Leave? Was that even an option? If he gave up now, the Carter Group was done for. Lance knew exactly how to hit where it hurt. Barnard really didn't dare to make an enemy of a guy like him.

Seeing the hesitation, Lance pressed on. “Kneel down, give Camilla three solid bows, and maybe I’ll consider your proposal.”

Barnard’s face burned with humiliation. But oddly, it made his head clearer. This apology to Camilla was just a front. Lance wanted to grind him down, to crush him completely. He wanted Camilla to never forget the sight of Barnard battered and begging, to kill any chance of her ever wanting him back. For Camilla, Lance would go to any lengths.

“I promised my son a trip to the amusement park today. I don’t have all day for this,” Lance said, checking his watch. “You’ve got ten seconds. If you’d rather not, then just leave.”

He started counting down, dropping his fingers one at a time right in Barnard’s face.

When only three fingers were left and Lance’s eyes had gone ice cold, Barnard understood there was no bluff. Jaw clenched, he finally got to his knees in front of Camilla, bowing deeply and letting his forehead hit the ground three times, each one louder than the last.

Afterwards, he looked up, his face hot with shame. “Is this enough?”

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