My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 205: Something in Return

"To be with me..."

Her breath caught.

The silence between them thickened, heavy and electric. Her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. She couldn’t look away—not from his eyes, not from the storm quietly building behind them.

She had no clever reply. No snarky comeback. Only the thunderous beat of her heart, and the undeniable, terrifying thought that maybe—just maybe—he was right.

"No response?" Ric asked, his voice low and edged with a teasing smirk. But beneath it, his eyes searched her face—hungry for an answer, any answer. "Not even a comment?"

Cammy parted her lips, then closed them again, struggling to speak. Her voice—always so quick, so sure—betrayed her now. Nothing came out. Just silence. Charged and deafening.

Ric let out a breath, almost a sigh, masking the tension rising in his chest. "It’s alright," he said, more gently this time. "I know how you feel about Greg. I’m not blind. But Cammy..." He hesitated, then leaned in slightly, his tone quiet but firm.

"If things between you and him fall apart—if they crash and burn like I think they might—I need you to know that I’m here. I’ve always been here."

Her heart twisted. Cammy gave a small, sad smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "I know, Ric. And... thank you. Thank you for always showing up, even when you didn’t have to."

He looked at her a moment longer, as if memorizing the curve of her smile, the glint in her eyes, the shape of her silence. Then he broke the spell with a nod and rose from his seat.

"Well," he said with forced lightness, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve, "if there’s nothing else you need tonight, I should head out. I hate to cut the night short, but I’ve got to be up early for the hospital program in the morning."

"Of course," she replied quickly, almost too quickly. "And... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into the chaos and make you cook for the entire household."

Ric turned to her, his eyes warm but tired. "Don’t be sorry, Cammy. Are you kidding? I was grateful. You let me do something for you—for your family. That means everything to me."

He finished the last drop of his wine in one smooth motion, setting the glass down gently but decisively. The sound echoed slightly in the quiet porch.

"I’ll go now," he said, standing straighter, his voice soft. "Text me tomorrow, okay? Let me know what the DNA test says. No matter what the result is... I want to know."

Cammy gave a quiet nod, her throat tight, unable to say more. She walked him to the elevator in silence, footsteps muted on the floor.

As the elevator doors slid open and Ric stepped in, he turned to her one last time, holding her gaze with an intensity that made her chest ache.

"Goodnight, Cammy."

"Goodnight, Ric," she whispered.

And then the doors closed, and he was gone.

She stood there for a moment, staring at the quiet hallway, the emptiness he left behind heavier than it should have been.

Then, with a sigh, she turned and walked to Dylan’s room, hoping the comfort of her son’s breathing would quiet the storm now brewing in her chest.

As Cammy turned from the hallway, her steps slow and her mind still tangled in Ric’s words, she nearly bumped into Monica stepping out of Dylan’s room.

Her mother moved quietly, carefully easing the door shut behind her, her face turned slightly to the side as if trying not to be seen.

But Cammy noticed. And her heart clenched. She is still her mother, no matter what, and she must have good reasons for doing the things that she did.

Monica kept her gaze low, her hand resting briefly on the doorknob as if she needed something to anchor herself. Her expression was weary, her shoulders hunched in a way Cammy hadn’t seen before. She made to walk past, but Cammy reached out—gently but firmly—and caught her by the arm.

"Mom..." Cammy said softly.

Monica froze.

"Please," Cammy whispered, her fingers tightening just slightly. "Don’t walk away. Not this time. I’m begging you... Talk to me."

A long silence followed. The kind that could split a heart in two.

Then Monica slowly turned, her eyes glassy but unreadable. "Alright," she said, her voice strained. "Let’s talk."

They moved to the edge of the hallway, where a door leads to Cammy’s room. The silence that stretched between them was taut with history, with words unspoken and wounds long buried.

Cammy sat beside her mother, turning to face her. "Tell me the truth," she said, her voice breaking. "I need to know. No more secrets. No more vague answers. Why did you marry Dad? What really happened?"

Monica’s lips trembled as she looked down at her hands, folded tightly in her lap. Then she inhaled shakily and began.

"Your grandfather—my father—was a powerful man. Controlling. Unforgiving. He didn’t care about love or happiness. He only cared about legacy, bloodlines, alliances. He told me I was to marry Peter Watson. No discussion. No way out."

She swallowed hard, her voice cracking under the weight of memory. "I was devastated. I had been seeing Richard then. I was young, foolish... and in love."

Cammy’s breath caught in her throat.

"I thought I could fight it," Monica continued, her voice low and haunted. "But your grandfather was relentless. He threatened to cut me off, threatened to ruin Richard’s name in the community. I gave in. I told myself I’d learn to love Peter. I told myself I’d give him my heart... even if it wasn’t his to begin with."

Her voice broke on the next words.

"But by the time the wedding was done... I done out I was pregnant. With Richard’s child."

Cammy’s hand flew to her mouth. "You lied to Dad..."

"I had to!" Monica said, suddenly sharp, the guilt bubbling out in jagged gasps. "I was terrified. I didn’t want to lose the baby, or the future my father had already chained me to. So I made Peter believe the baby was his. And when you were born... he loved you like his own. Peter is a good man, I eventually fell in love with him."

Tears slipped down Cammy’s cheeks before she could stop them. "And you let him live that lie his whole life?"

Monica looked at her, eyes filled with anguish. "He was your father in every way that mattered. He gave you everything. And I—" She paused, shaking her head. "I tried to be a good wife. I did. I buried Richard. I buried the guilt. I chose the life that was forced on me. But now..."

Her voice dropped to a pleading whisper. "Now Richard wants something in return."

Cammy stiffened. "You’re talking about me."

Monica nodded slowly. "He wants you back. He wants you to make me suffer and Peter. If you do... if you give him what he’s asking for, he promised to make you his heir right? We’re drowning, Cammy. The hospital bills, the therapy—I can’t do this on my own. Yes, there’s Duncan, but then it would be better if we take CorEx back from him right?"

"You shouldn’t have done what you’ve done in the first place," Cammy sighed. "Why didn’t you tell me sooner?" Cammy whispered.

"Because I knew what I did would make you hate me," Monica said, tears finally spilling down her face. "But I’m asking you now—not just as your mother, but as a woman who’s made a thousand mistakes—please... help me make this right. Give Richard what he wants."

Cammy sat frozen, her mind reeling. Her entire life had just shattered and rearranged itself within the span of minutes. Her mother’s secrets. Her father’s devotion. The truth of her bloodline. And now... this impossible choice. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

The weight of it pressed down on her chest, but one thing was clear—nothing would ever be the same again.