My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 216: Cammy’s Plan (3)

Cammy let out a long, shaky sigh, her chest tightening with the weight of inevitability. She had known—deep down—that Ric would say those words. She had prepared herself for it, braced for the possibility. And yet, hearing them aloud still stung like salt in an open wound.

She didn’t want this. Not from him. Not now. If there was a sliver of hope, she wanted him to heal, to move on... to find someone who could offer him the happiness she never could.

If there was any mercy left in the world, she wanted to keep what was left of their friendship untouched by the firestorm of her life. Ric didn’t deserve to be dragged into the chaos she was drowning in.

"Ric..." she said softly, her voice trembling like glass on the edge of shattering.

"You’re not thinking clearly. I knew—somewhere in my gut—that you’d want to help me. That’s exactly why I asked you to come with me. But not to step into the fire... not to sacrifice yourself."

She took a deep breath, steeling herself, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

"I need your help finding someone heartless. Someone who’s in it for the money, not for love. I don’t want a contract husband who might... who might start caring.

I want someone bold enough—selfish enough—to walk away from me and this baby after two years without looking back, no matter what people say."

Her voice cracked, but she pushed on. "When that time comes, I’ll change my baby’s last name—Watson, Cross, whatever name makes sense by then. I’ll figure it out. But I need you to stay out of this, Ric. This isn’t your burden to carry. It never was."

Ric opened his mouth, pain flickering in his eyes, but before he could say a word, Felicity’s sharp, warm voice cut through the tension like a blade cloaked in silk.

"Darling," Felicity said gently but firmly, "I’m sorry, but I have to disagree. You didn’t just come here for a matchmaking service. You came to me because you’re lost. Because you trust me. And you know that beyond finding you a man, you needed someone to give it to you straight, didn’t you?"

Cammy gave a slow, reluctant nod, her throat tightening.

Felicity continued, her tone softening with affection. "I’m honored you came to me, and I want you to know—I see you like my own daughter.

If I had to choose a man for you to marry, even under such complicated, temporary terms... it would be Ric. Not because he’s my husband’s nephew, but because I know he would never hurt you."

She leaned forward, her gaze unwavering. "Your heart is still tangled up in Greg. That won’t vanish overnight. But Ric? Ric is already your friend. You trust him. You know him. When the nights get too heavy and the silence too loud, he’s someone you can lean on. Depend on."

Felicity smiled, a bittersweet smile touched by hope. "And if you marry him—even just for two years—you become family. Not just by name. By heart. It’s not just practical, Cammy. It’s the safest choice in a world where everything else is uncertain."

"Ric is an adult like you, and if he says he wanted to do this, then it’s his responsibility. It’s him who made this choice, so if he gets hurt at the end, that’s on him and not you.

I know that you will not treat him badly, so whatever the end of this all is, it’s not all your responsibility, you did your best not to involve him, but still he wanted it," Felicity added.

Cammy’s gaze flicked between Felicity and Ric, her heart pounding in the hollow of her chest. Everything Felicity said rang true—solid, grounded, painfully rational. And yet, the weight of it all didn’t sit cleanly on Ric’s shoulders.

It couldn’t. She wouldn’t let it. If she agreed to this... she’d be complicit. She’d be the one placing that burden on someone who didn’t deserve to suffer the consequences of her choices.

She pressed her lips together, silent, her throat tight with the pressure of everything unsaid. Words failed her. Thoughts collided in her head like waves crashing against a fragile shoreline. There was too much to consider. Too much at stake.

And Ric—he saw it. The tiny flicker in her eyes. That desperate, terrified flicker of hope. But louder than anything was her hesitation—it screamed from the stiffness in her jaw, the guarded tension in her shoulders, the way her eyes darted away every time they met his.

So Ric did something he never imagined he would. He stepped forward into the fire with her.

"I know this is tearing you apart," he said, his voice steady but low, covered with a vulnerability he rarely showed.

"And I get it, Cammy. It’s a huge decision. But what if... what if we talk to Greg? He is the father, after all. Don’t you think he deserves to know what’s about to happen? At the very least, he should have a say in who gets to claim his child."

Cammy’s breath hitched, her eyes snapping to his, wide and unsure. The shock in them was unmistakable. Her silence thickened, wrapped in a storm of confusion, guilt, and uncertainty.

Ric continued, gently but firmly, "I’m not saying it for drama or to stir anything. I’m saying it because we all know it’s morally better for Greg not to be named the father—because of what that would mean for everyone involved. But we can’t just erase him without a word. He needs to know. He deserves that much."

Felicity nodded, her voice soft but decisive. "He’s right, sweetheart. Talk to Greg. Hear what he has to say. You might be surprised—he might understand more than you think. If I were in his shoes, I’d choose this over some stranger stepping in to play father."

She stepped closer, taking Cammy’s hand. "Greg knows the truth—he knows the two of you can never be together. That door is closed. But Ric? Ric is someone who’s been by your side long before any of this started.

Someone Greg already knew. It would make sense to everyone. It would be easier to believe. The story fits."

Felicity’s voice softened further, a mother’s tenderness in her tone. "And more importantly, you wouldn’t be alone, Cammy. You wouldn’t be walking into this storm without someone to lean on."

Cammy blinked back the tears welling in her eyes, her chest rising and falling in silent turmoil. And in that moment, between the ache of past choices and the weight of future ones, she stood on the edge of something irreversible.