Divorced the Cheat Married the Fleet (Camilla and Lance) novel Chapter 443

It was past midnight when Elise finally woke up. Lance had stopped by while she was unconscious, desperate to explain things to Camilla.

But standing in a hospital hallway, with Jasper right there, Camilla had absolutely no desire to entertain his excuses. She coldly instructed Lance to take the boy home.

By nine o'clock, Camilla had managed to convince Carol to go home and rest as well. Now, she sat alone in the quiet hospital room, keeping watch over her mother.

Elise had calmed down considerably, but her grip on Camilla's hand remained white-knuckled. "Camilla, I know you have a mind of your own. But I just don't want to see you get hurt. Your father is gone. You're all I have left. I can't bear the thought of you suffering again."

She clutched her daughter's hand so tightly, her voice still trembling with residual terror.

Camilla gently squeezed back, offering a soothing smile. "Mom, I promise you, I'm only going to listen to his side of the story once. If I sense even a hint of a lie, I'll walk away immediately. I won't give anyone the chance to hurt me ever again."

Elise knew this was the biggest concession her stubborn daughter would make. She didn't push the issue any further.

Camilla stayed by Elise's side the entire night.

Because Elise's emotional state was still fragile, the doctors recommended she stay for observation. Camilla handled the admission paperwork without hesitation.

She needed some time to clear her head anyway, so she planned to spend the foreseeable future camping out at the hospital.

But early the next morning, her phone buzzed with a call from Dahlia.

Dahlia was sobbing uncontrollably, her words a jumbled, incoherent mess. Panic seized Camilla's chest. She tried calling Magee, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Unable to shake the feeling of impending doom, she booked the first available flight to Valdoria.

The moment she stepped out of the airport terminal, her path was blocked.

It was Barnard.

A phalanx of men in black suits fanned out behind his wheelchair, creating quite the imposing spectacle.

His gaze, tinged with a smug amusement, settled on her. "Happy New Year, Camilla."

"I have somewhere to be. I don't have time for your nonsense. Tell your dogs to heel," Camilla snapped.

She was sick with worry for Dahlia and had zero patience for a reunion with him.

Barnard chuckled softly. "Looking for Dahlia? Don't bother. I made the call. The voice was synthesized. As for Magee not answering? I made sure he was dead drunk.

It worked like a charm. Camilla, you really do care about that girl."

He laid his cards on the table with infuriating casualness, his words sparking a fiery rage in Camilla's chest.

She looked at him, fighting the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head. "Are you an actual psychopath? What was the point of dragging me all the way out here?"

Barnard chuckled. He tilted his head back, his eyes locking onto hers through the gold-rimmed lenses of his glasses. "If I got a prosthetic, I wouldn't have you here pushing me, would I?"

Camilla couldn't fathom how a man with so much innocent blood on his hands could smile with such brazen entitlement.

Her palm twitched. She wanted nothing more than to slap that arrogant smirk right off his face.

It took every ounce of her willpower to restrain herself as she followed him to a lavish hotel.

The bodyguards remained in the hallway, standing like sentinels outside the door.

In the sprawling, opulent suite, it was just the two of them. Camilla crossed her arms. "Alright, Barnard. Start talking. Why did you bring me here?"

"I missed you. I wanted to have a reunion dinner with you. Is that a good enough reason?" Barnard countered.

Meeting her look of absolute loathing, he let out a heavy sigh, his expression sobering. "Fine. Since you insist on the truth, I won't hide it anymore. Mahoney's trip to Valdoria has something to do with you, doesn't it? Your repeated visits to The Williams Group... your motives aren't exactly innocent, are they?"

He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it from her. He needed to confirm if she was here digging for the truth about her father.

"You're overthinking it," Camilla replied coldly. "I don't have any motives."