Divorced the Cheat Married the Fleet (Camilla and Lance) novel Chapter 414

"She said she was getting bored sitting around the house, so I signed her and Jasper up for some parent-child craft classes. They've been busy with that."

Lance cut straight to the point. "Camilla, let's not change the subject. Why didn't you contact the men I left for you? You would rather go to Barnard for help than come to me? If I hadn't made it in time today, do you have any idea what—"

Before he could finish his angry reprimand, Camilla tilted her head up and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.

The words died in Lance's throat. He stared at her in stunned silence.

Aside from the time Barnard had drugged her on the cruise ship, this was the very first time Camilla had ever initiated any form of intimacy.

They lived together at Laguna Shores, and to the outside world, they were a couple. But only Lance knew the agonizing reality: he was the only one driving their relationship forward.

She hadn't even defined their relationship, let alone shown him everyday affection.

Camilla knelt on the mattress, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. "Lance, I have absolutely nothing to do with Barnard anymore. You are the only one I care about. Be good. Don't compare yourself to trash like him. He's not worthy."

Her voice was impossibly soft, dripping with the same tender, coaxing sweetness she usually reserved for Jasper.

Lance swallowed hard but held his ground. "Why didn't you use my men? Why did you go near Barnard?"

There was no dodging the interrogation. Camilla sighed. "Those men have too many dirty connections. I didn't want the people you sent to get dragged into the crossfire. And I didn't reach out to Barnard for help—I just wanted to see if I could extract some intel from him. I—"

"And what was the result?" Lance demanded, his voice hardening. "Camilla, if I hadn't shown up today, do you know what would have happened to you?"

He had never raised his voice at her. Ever. The sheer coldness in his tone made her shrink with guilt.

She broke eye contact, knowing she was entirely in the wrong, and didn't dare argue back.

"I told you I would handle every obstacle in your way," Lance continued, his chest rising and falling. "You didn't even give my protection a chance. Why are you so convinced my people can't keep you safe?"

"I..." Camilla opened her mouth, but the words failed her.

Seeing her look so small, Lance didn't have the heart to push her further. He fetched the first-aid kit, grabbed the iodine, and sat on the edge of the bed. Taking her wrists gently in his hands, he meticulously cleaned the angry red rope burns.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was calmer. "Tell me. What exactly are you and Carol planning? Who are you investigating?"

The storm hadn't passed; it was just the eerie calm before it broke. Not daring to hide anything else, Camilla laid it all out—their suspicions about Clement, his criminal past, and his direct ties to Mike.

Lance remained silent as he flawlessly bandaged her wrists. Finally, he packed away the kit. "Go to sleep. I'll take you to see someone tomorrow."

Camilla could feel the lingering frost in his demeanor. As he turned to leave the room, panic flared in her chest. "Lance, can you stay? Please? Just stay and talk to me."

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