Divorced the Cheat Married the Fleet (Camilla and Lance) novel Chapter 412

"Valdoria isn't a lawless wasteland," Carol muttered, her voice trembling with disgust. "They received top-tier educations in Cabinda. How can they sleep at night knowing they're collaborating with scum like that?"

A freezing chill settled in Camilla's eyes. To put it bluntly, Barnard's current arrogance was likely built on the corpses of others. "He will face justice," Camilla said, her tone devoid of emotion. "When the dust settles, we'll drag him back to stand trial."

Across the room, Barnard was soaking in the adoration.

The gloomy resentment that had clouded his eyes for weeks was completely eclipsed by raw, burning ambition. Glancing down at his crippled legs, he felt not a shred of his former insecurity.

Power really was the ultimate cure.

He had done his homework on Mike's standing in Valdoria. The man was the undisputed kingpin of the underground, pulling strings in every sector. Calling him the god of Valdoria wasn't an exaggeration, and Clement was one of Mike's top lieutenants.

These elites weren't kissing up to The Williams Group—they were bowing to the shadow of the man behind Clement. And now, as Clement's trusted confidant, Barnard knew it was only a matter of time before he met Mike himself. One day, Clement's throne would be his.

When that time came, neither Camilla nor Calvin would ever dare look down on him again.

The man Calvin had sought refuge with was a rank beneath Clement. Calvin hadn't even qualified for an invitation to tonight's gala.

The realization that he had skyrocketed past Calvin filled Barnard with a euphoric high.

At this rate, reviving the Carter family's glory was within striking distance.

His ambitious gaze swept over the crowd, landing on Camilla. He waited to see awe or shock on her face, but she had her head turned, completely ignoring his existence.

A surge of irritation twisted in his chest.

He maneuvered his wheelchair, rolling directly up to her. "Camilla. Why are you hiding in the corner? Want me to show you around?"

He extended the offer with a sickeningly condescending tone. It immediately dragged Camilla's memories back to their university days, when they first met.

Barnard had hosted a charity lecture on campus. He had been exactly like this—smug, arrogant, radiating an air of untouchable wealth while soaking up the students' admiration. He had treated the podium like a pedestal he built for himself.

Camilla had been the outstanding student representative that year, and the university's prime candidate for the Carter Foundation's scholarship.

She had assumed her interaction with Barnard would begin and end at that lecture. She accepted the funds, intending to treat him solely as a benefactor.

But after the event, in front of the entire student body, Barnard had approached her just like this. He smoothly asked for her number, telling her to reach out if she ever needed anything.

He was older, a wealthy returnee from abroad, and wore a mask of gentle maturity that was incredibly deceiving. Camilla had naively viewed him as a reliable mentor.

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