My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 199: Cammy’s Fury (3)

The air left Monica’s lungs in a rush. She blinked once, twice, as though trying to process whether she’d heard the question or just imagined it. But her silence was already enough of an answer.

’Hmm, did she really believe him? Was he that convincing for her to doubt Peter and me?’ Monica thought while staring at Cammy.

Cammy’s eyes filled with fresh tears—not of weakness, but of devastation. "So it’s true," she breathed, more to herself than anyone. "Silence means yes, and you are not saying anything!"

Monica finally found her voice, but it came out brittle, desperate. "You don’t understand what you’re saying—"

"Oh, I understand perfectly," Cammy snapped, the fire flaring again. "I understand why you always looked at me like I was a burden. Why was nothing I ever did was enough? Why could you sell me to Duncan without blinking?" Her voice broke. "Because I was never his daughter. I was never Dad’s. And you’ve been lying to both of us for years."

"Stop it!" Monica hissed, glancing around, even though no one was near. "You don’t know what happened back then. You think you know everything, but you don’t. Even up to this day!"

The two women stood there, the truth hanging in the air like a guillotine.

Cammy stepped back slowly, her voice quieter now, but far more dangerous.

"Whatever you thought you were protecting... It’s too late. You should’ve told me the truth, Mom. Because now? I’m going to find it—with or without your help."

She turned and walked away, each step a declaration of war, leaving Monica rooted in place, speechless, pale, and utterly shaken.

Monica lunged forward, grabbing Cammy’s arm with trembling hands, stopping her in her tracks.

"What do you mean you’re going to find it?" she demanded, voice high and ragged with panic. "What are you going to do, Cammy?"

Cammy froze—not from fear, but from the sudden sharp recognition in Monica’s tone. There was something in her mother’s eyes she hadn’t seen in years—genuine fear. Not anger. Not annoyance. Fear.

Her brows knitted for a split second before suspicion flared in her gut like a warning bell. Why is she panicking like this unless... unless it’s true? The thought hit her like a slap.

Cammy pulled her arm free, slowly, deliberately, then turned to face Monica with a bitter, sardonic smile curling her lips.

"I already have Richard’s hair and a swab," she said, her voice cold, laced with venom. "You know... for DNA testing."

Monica’s breath caught audibly.

"I should’ve gone straight to the lab," Cammy continued, her eyes gleaming, "if I had known this is the performance I’d get from you. But I guess that’s on me. Silly, isn’t it? Even now—even now—a part of me hoped you’d just tell me the truth."

Her voice cracked slightly at the edges, not from weakness but from disgust.

"But of course," she spat with a bitter laugh, "it’s you. Why would you choose honesty when manipulation’s always worked so well?"

Monica’s lips parted, trying to form words, to justify, to backpedal—but Cammy wasn’t done.

"Maybe I am delusional," she went on, stepping back from her mother like she couldn’t stand to breathe the same air, "to think there’s any shred of maternal love left in you. But no more games, Mom. I’m done."

Her eyes narrowed like steel.

"Now get your hands off me. I have a DNA test to finish—and a few lies to bury."

She turned on her heel and strode away without another word, the sound of her steps cutting through the air like gunfire. Behind her, Monica stood frozen, lips trembling, heart pounding—watching her daughter disappear into the night.

Monica stood frozen for a heartbeat, watching Cammy’s figure disappear into the narrow pathway like a shadow swallowed by the dark. Her jaw clenched so tightly it ached, her heart pounding with fury and dread.

The moment her daughter vanished from sight, Monica pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling as they scrolled through her contacts.

She found the name, pressed it, and raised the phone to her ear.

The line rang once. Twice. Three times.

Then—click.

"You bastard!" she hissed, the moment the call connected. "What the hell did you say to Cammy?!"

She was shaking with rage now, her voice low but deadly, the kind of fury that could scorch the ground beneath her. If smoke could pour from her ears, the marina would already be in flames.

On the other end, Richard scoffed—a sharp, deliberate sound—then let out a low, amused chuckle.

[And what did you expect me to do, Monica?] he replied with biting contempt. fгeewebnovёl.com

[Close my eyes when the woman might be my daughter? You’re delusional if you thought I wouldn’t want to know the truth. She and my son are together—together romantically, Monica! Did you even know that?!]

"Oh, I know," she snapped, her voice cracking like a whip. "And I’m telling you—stay out of it. This is none of your concern!"

[I’ll stay out of it the moment you tell me she isn’t mine!] Richard fired back.

[But if I find out she is—if Cammy is my daughter, I swear to you, I’ll take her from you. From Peter. I’ll give her what she deserves. She will become one of my heirs. And I’ll make sure she gets CorEx from that pathetic, half-dead husband of yours!]

Monica’s lips twitched. But instead of replying in rage, her expression shifted.

Her brow slowly lifted. And then, like a mask sliding into place, a smirk curled across her lips.

"So... you were the one who suggested the DNA test," she said, voice suddenly composed, smooth as silk.

[Yes!] Richard snapped. [Why? Is that a problem for you? You should be grateful I even gave her the choice. If I hadn’t considered her feelings, I would’ve done it behind her back.]

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"And if she’s not yours," Monica said calmly, almost sweetly, "you’ll leave her alone? You’ll stay out of her life?"

[Of course. What kind of question is that?] he spat. [But I’ll tell you what I won’t allow—I won’t let my son marry someone with your blood. I refuse to let your toxicity taint mine.]

*BEEP*

Monica ended the call with a single tap, cutting him off mid-breath.

She stood there, phone still in hand, as silence returned around her. Slowly, she let out a bitter scoff, her face twisting into a sneer.

"Arrogant bastard," she muttered. "You think I’m still that foolish girl who once worshipped the ground you walked on. But you’ll see... I’ve become powerful in my own right now, Richard."

Her eyes glinted with a dangerous fire—cold, calculating.

She turned her gaze one last time to the direction Cammy had gone, her expression unreadable.

Then, with her spine straight and shoulders set like a queen returning to her court, Monica pivoted on her heels and walked back toward the glittering lights and shallow laughter of the yacht party—back into the world she had clawed her way into and would not let go of without a fight.

But the war had begun.

And the battlefield was blood.