They Beg For My Return (Camila Jackson) novel Chapter 183

Chapter 183

Chapter 183

The next morning was picture–perfect. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, filling the room with a warm, golden glow.

Camila finished getting ready and slowly made her way downstairs. She saw Giovani sitting on the sofa, engrossed in the newspaper in his hands.

Hearing her footsteps, Giovani looked up. His gaze softened as it landed on her.

Camila paused, a little surprised. “You’re not heading to the office today?”

“You’re planning to visit Arthur and Agnes today, aren’t you?” Giovani looked at her intently, his voice calm but soft.

“Did Sean tell you?”

“Yeah.” Giovani put the newspaper aside, his eyes still on her.

Camila tugged at the hem of her shirt nervously. “I’m going. Some things just need to be wrapped up.”

She hesitated briefly before continuing, “But won’t it mess up your work if you come with me?”

Giovani shook his head slightly. “Don’t worry. I’ve already handed everything over to Turner.”

Camila stayed quiet for a moment, then nodded. She knew that once Giovani made up his mind, nothing could change it.

Sean pulled the car up to the front door. Once Giovani and Camila got in, he started the engine with practiced ease.

+15

Camila sat in the back seat, her gaze fixed on the familiar cityscape outside the window. Her eyes carried a deep sense of reluctance–not for the city, but for Giovani and Lindsey. She knew that once she left, there might be no coming back.

The ride was quiet. Eventually, they reached their destination–a remote village.

The roads there were rough and narrow, littered with jagged rocks and deep potholes. With her bad leg, Camila could barely walk. She gritted her teeth, fighting to look like nothing was wrong.

Giovani, however, noticed her difficulty. He crouched down in front of her, his voice low and gentle. “Get on. I’ll carry you.”

Camila shook her head. “The road is rough. If you carry me, you’ll just wear yourself out. I can handle this.”

“Just get on. If anything happens to you, I’ll feel even worse.” Giovani’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.

A wave of gratitude washed over Camila. She bit her lip, paused for a second, then carefully leaned against his back.

Giovani stood up steadily, adjusting his grip on her legs to make sure she was comfortable.

Sean led the way, occasionally glancing back at the two of them.

The trail was a nightmare–jagged rocks and hidden pits everywhere. Giovani moved carefully, each step calculated to keep Camila steady and prevent any sudden jolts.

Camila clung to his back, guilt gnawing at her. “Mr Campbell, I can manage,” she murmured softly. “You don’t have to do this.”

Giovani simply shook his head. “Stay still. We’re almost there,” he said, his voice resolute.

Camila gave up and stayed silent. She leaned against his back, feeling the warmth radiating from him.

Time blurred as they pushed forward. Sweat trickled down Giovani’s forehead, his shirt soaked and sticking to his back.

Camila looked at his sweat–drenched profile and reached out, gently wiping the sweat from his forehead.

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Chapter 183

Giovani felt her touch and couldn’t help but smile faintly, almost forgetting how tired he was.

in the distance, a few crumbling houses stood out awkwardly against the lush green trees. This was where Arthur and Agnes stayed.

Giovani carefully set Camila down, and then the three of them headed toward the houses.

The closer they got, the faster Camila’s heart raced. Waves of painful memories crashed over her, and her hands clenched tightly before she even

noticed.

Sensing her unease, Giovani gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

Sean had personally brought Arthur and Agnes to this village. Knowing the way, he guided Giovani and Camila into the isolated, impoverished

settlement.

The villagers‘ faces were worn and etched with hardship, their clothes patched so many times they barely held together. Their curious gazes followed the trio closely, tracking their every move.

With Sean leading the way, the three finally reached Arthur’s house–the place where he had spent his childhood.

The house was a crumbling mud–brick shack, its cracked walls and missing roof tiles making it look ready to collapse. The yard was chaotic, with chickens darting around, and the stench in the air was so foul it made people gag.

As the three neared the doorway, a bitter old man’s angry voice exploded from inside. “You useless piece of trash! What the hell did I even raise you for?

“You ditched this place thirty years ago and never gave a damn, living it up while cutting ties with me. Afraid I’d ask you to take care of me, huh?