Unwanted Fake Wife The Top Billionaire novel Chapter 7

"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 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.

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