“What’s going on?” Elena asked.
Nathan said, “Don’t you work at Swiftline? Camille just got back from overseas and plans to stay. She’s thinking of joining your team. Can you talk to your editor, see if there’s a spot for her?”
Elena almost laughed from sheer frustration.
Nathan knew full well how she and Camille didn’t get along. Ever since she was brought back to the Hart family, Camille had been scheming behind her back every chance she got.
Now it wasn’t enough to make her miserable at home–Camille wanted to follow her to work
too?
“I don’t make those decisions,” Elena said flatly. “Isn’t she supposed to be a war correspondent? There are plenty of top media companies here–why the Swiftline specifically?”
She shoved Nathan aside and stared him down. “I’m starting to think you’re awfully invested in Camille’s future. Are you two hiding something?”
Nathan’s heart skipped a beat. He looked unsettled, his voice defensive. “What are you talking about? I just figured you’re a star reporter there, so I thought I’d ask.”
Honestly, if Camille hadn’t pushed him to bring it up, he wouldn’t have bothered.
“Well, I’m saying no.” Elena shut him down.
“I’ve got an appointment with Dr. Mercer tomorrow. I’m tired.”
She pushed past him to grab her pajamas and headed for the shower. When she came out, Nathan was gone. So were his pillow and pajamas.
With Camille staying over, he probably couldn’t wait to prove his loyalty and move into the guest room. The timing was perfect after their little spat.
Elena couldn’t be happier. She’d been trying to find a reason to stop sharing a bed with him
anyway.
Feeling smug, she curled up in bed and called Chloe to report her little victory: she had squeezed five hundred thousand out of Victoria. Even if the money hadn’t come directly from her, Elena knew just getting anything–even fifty grand–was enough to put a smile on her face.
She slept soundly. At six a.m., Elena got up and was about to head downstairs for a jog.
The moment she opened the bedroom door, she caught a glimpse of the guest room door
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across the hall quietly closing. A flash of pink–and–white nightgown disappeared behind it.
She let out a cold laugh, turned around, and shut her door again. Instead of jogging, she grabbed a chair and started scrolling on her phone.
Half an hour later, hearing a faint rustling outside, she yanked her door open. And there Camille was, stepping out of the guest room in a pink satin nightgown. They locked eyes.
Camille froze on the spot. There was a red mark on her neck.
“E–Elena…”
She had been trying to sneak downstairs for a glass of water, thinking Elena would be out jogging. The moment she heard a door creak, she’d retreated in panic. Thinking the coast was clear now, she’d opened the door–only to run straight into her.
Elena stormed over, eyes blazing. And slapped her, hard. The smack echoed down the hallway.
Nathan rushed out, having heard the noise, just in time to see Elena standing over Camille, a red handprint blooming across her cheek.
“Nathan…” Camille whimpered, stumbling into his arms.
Still shaken, Nathan quickly tried to seize control, pointing a finger at Elena. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Elena laughed coldly. “So this is why you moved to the guest room. You’re sleeping with her now? Nathan, have you no shame? Sleeping with your subordinate’s girlfriend? And you-” she turned to Camille, “you already have a boyfriend, and now you’re crawling into someone else’s bed? Seriously?”
Camille was still dazed from the slap, her head spinning from Elena’s words.
Nathan raised his voice. “Elena, stop making things up!”
“Then explain it,” she snapped. “Why was she in your room? What about the mark on her neck?”
Nathan opened his mouth and came up with… nothing.
“Can’t answer, huh?”
Elena clenched her fist behind her back, twisting her skin until her eyes welled up with tears. “We’ve been married for five years, Nathan. And this is how you treat me?”
Her tear–streaked face looked heartbreakingly beautiful.
For a second, Nathan’s expression cracked. He couldn’t help blaming Camille–why had she
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insisted on sneaking into his room last night? Why hang around this morning like nothing had happened?
He pushed her off him. “Go ahead. Explain yourself to Elena.”
Camille looked crushed. Holding her sore cheek, she hesitated before touching the red mark on her neck. “I… I went to his room because Victoria asked me to wake him up for breakfast. And the mark–it’s a mosquito bite.”
Elena raised an eyebrow. “Really?”
Camille nodded. “I would never come between you two.”
Elena wiped away her tears. “I knew you wouldn’t be that shameless.”
Camille almost cracked. She wanted to say, “I’m the real Mrs. Hawthorne,” but the warning look Nathan shot her shut her up fast.
She forced a laugh. “Of course not. Nathan and I are just friends. Nothing more.”
“It’s fine, honey,” Nathan said, pulling Elena into his arms. “We’ve been married for five years. Don’t you trust me by now?”
They headed downstairs for breakfast. After eating, Victoria reminded Elena to go visit Julian. She agreed readily, and once she left the house, she drove straight to his home.
After settling in, she handed the gifts to Julian’s assistant–along with the five hundred thousand
check.
Julian, now silver–haired, sat on the couch cradling a mug. When he saw the check, his eyes widened. “What’s this for, girl?”
“For helping treat my mother–in–law all these years. This covers her medical expenses.”
Julian’s face darkened. “You trying to insult me? You think I’d take money from you? What, you want your dad haunting me from the grave?”
Julian had been close friends with her adoptive father, Malcolm. Back when Elena still lived with the Sterlings, Julian often came by for visits.
It was the only reason she could ever convince him to treat Victoria in the first place.
She smiled sadly. “You deserve this. Take it for you and your wife. You’ll need it later.”
Julian and his wife had never had children. It was just the two of them now, and she wanted to make sure they were taken care of.
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Julian didn’t touch the check. He just stared at her, then let out a sigh. “Tell me the truth, girl. Are they bullying you over there?”
That one sentence hit her right where it hurt most.
She’d been holding it all in for days. Elena had always been the type to hide her pain. But now the dam broke, and the tears came pouring out.
When she finished, Julian was shaking with rage. He slammed his mug down. “The Hawthornes have gone too d*mn far!”
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Olivia Harris is an emerging author celebrated for her captivating romantic and steamy novels. With a talent for crafting deep emotional connections and fiery chemistry between her characters, Olivia’s stories offer readers an escape into worlds filled with passion, intrigue, and heart-stopping drama.

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