They Beg For My Return (Camila Jackson) novel Chapter 108

The dim streetlights cast a weak, yellowish glow, stretching and shrinking Harry’s disheveled shadow. His eyes were fixed on Camila, hollow with defeat–as if his last spark of hope had just been crushed.

There was a time when Camila looked at him with eyes full of trust and hope, like a little fawn yearning for approval- innocent and eager.

Every time he came home, Camila would rush over to grab his slippers, saying with a bright smile, “You’re back, Harry. You must be so tired from work. Sit down on the couch, and I’ll give you a shoulder massage,

Those warm memories now spun through Harry’s mind like an old film reel, crashing against the ice in Camila’s eyes.

Harry struggled with all his might, but Turner had him pinned firmly to the ground, leaving him unable to move. All he could do was look up at Camila and Giovani in a humiliating position.

“Camila, I’m your brother. Are you really going to just stand there and let the outsiders treat me like this?” he shouted, his voice filled with bitterness and frustration.

Camila stood silently, her figure slender yet exuding a sense of resilience. Her gaze was steady and distant, totally unmoved by his outburst. It was as if she couldn’t even hear him.

That silence was more cutting than any words, shattering Harry’s heart into pieces. Finally, he realized the Camila who once longed for family warmth and was easily controlled no longer existed.

Harry’s anger surged, crashing through him with no outlet. His face turned beet red, his features contorted in rage.

“Forget about Mom and Dad for now. What about Agnes?” he spat. “You knew how much she cared about her looks, and yet you had someone shave her head. You’re as cruel as ever!”

He deliberately emphasized the words “as cruel as ever,” as if trying to justify his accusations against Camila. But deep down, he knew she had never been truly malicious.

Camila stood there, her face devoid of emotion. It was like Harry’s words were nothing more than a breeze brushing past her ears, incapable of stirring even the faintest ripple in her heart.

“If that’s what you think, then so be it,” she said. Her voice was soft but carried a chill that was impossible to ignore.

Harry froze, feeling his words landing on empty air. He never imagined that Camila wouldn’t even bother to defend herself.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with manic intensity. “Don’t get too full of yourself. I’ll get Agnes out of prison soon.

“She’s used to the best of everything. She wouldn’t even glance at that shabby needle work, let alone steal it. Admit it—you ruined it just to frame her.”

Camila had heard such accusations far too many times. Once, they might have hurt her, but now, her heart was completely numb.

She gently tugged on Giovani’s sleeve and said calmly, “Let’s go. I don’t want to waste any more words on him.”

Giovani looked down at her, the coldness in his eyes melting into endless tenderness. “You go ahead and get in the car,” he said softly.

Camila gave a slight nod and, under Giovani’s gentle gaze, gracefully stepped into the car.

Sean carefully adjusted her dress before stepping aside to block Harry’s view of her.

Harry’s eyes bulged, as if they might pop out of their sockets. His voice cracked with hysteria as he shouted, “Camila, get out

1/3

Chapter 108

of the car!

“Agnes absolutely cannot suffer in prison. You have to come with me to the police sextion and tell them everything was you doing. You made all this up. You’re the one who belongs in j

Harry’s voice pierced through the night, sharp and grating, as if he will clung to some desperde rope

Giovani frowned, a flash of pure contempt crowing his eyes, ite’d never seen apme to your traing down, be groped Harry’s jaw with long, cold fingers, forcing him to meet his gaze,

Giovani’s eyes were like a bottomless abyss, radiating an aura that could freeze one’s sool. Bren Harry, the pampered heir of the Jackson family, couldn’t help but tremble under such a sinister care.

“So concerned about Agnes? You like her?” Giovani asked, his voice low and icy, dripping with mockery

Harry went completely silent, mouth hanging open. His face was a mask of pure disbelief, as if he’d just head fhe mout absurd joke in the world.

Before he could react, Giovani sneered, “Disgusting,” He showed Harry away, his hand wiping against his sleeve as if he’d just touched something filthy,

Sean noticed this and immediately handed over a pristine white handkerchief.

Giovani took the handkerchief and wiped his hands slowly, deliberately, before towing it onto Harry’s face. The white cloth slid off, landing on the ground and picking up dust–just like Harry’s shattered pride.

Then Giovaní turned away, ready to get into the car.

Panicked, Harry hurriedly called out, “Mr. Campbell, please spare Agnes! I’ll pay you back every cent of the 7 million.”

Giovani paused. He tilted his head slightly and cast a cold glance at Harry. “Do you think I care about money?” “Then what do you want?” Harry asked. He was at his wit’s end, unable to think of any way to make Giovani relent. Giovani didn’t answer. He stood there, silent. After a moment, a faint smile curved his lips.

His goal was simple: to make Camila happy and ensure those who had hurt her paid the price. But there was no need to explain himself to Harry.

Giovani slid into the car. Sean followed, and Turner roughly pushed Harry aside before climbing in too.

The car slowly pulled away. Harry watched it disappear into the distance before collapsing onto the ground. Finally, he saw the truth–he’d severed the last connection with Camila. And every single bit of this mess was his own doing.