My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 237: Piece By Piece

The air had grown heavier the moment dessert was cleared. Laughter and conversation dwindled, replaced by the weight of anticipation. Richard set down his wine glass with finality, his sharp gaze sweeping across the table and landing on Greg, Cammy, and Ric.

"Now," Richard said, rising with quiet authority, "if you’re done, follow me to my office. We need to discuss the DNA test... and talk more about the future."

He didn’t wait for confirmation. With the command of a king, he turned and strode out of the dining room, his steps echoing against the marble floor.

Greg stood silently and followed, his expression unreadable.

Cammy, heart thudding, wiped her mouth and took a slow sip of water. Her hand trembled slightly as she placed the glass down. She glanced at Ric, who gave her a gentle nod, then rose beside her.

"You’re not alone in this," Ric whispered, his voice a low current of strength.

She nodded once and followed Richard and Greg down the long corridor, each step toward the home office feeling like a march into the unknown.

The door to Richard’s office creaked open, revealing the dark elegance within—walls lined with books, heavy furniture, a massive desk like a judge’s bench. The scent of cigars and aged wood clung to the air like a memory that refused to fade.

"Take a seat," Richard said, motioning to the chairs across from his desk. His tone was calm, but his eyes burned with the sharpness of a man who didn’t tolerate lies.

Greg sat first, rigid, like a soldier called into account. Cammy took the seat beside him, Ric to her right, his hand brushing her knee in a silent gesture of support.

Richard sat behind his desk like a god on his throne.

His fingers tapped the folder containing the DNA test results. He didn’t open it again—he didn’t need to. The truth was already known. But his eyes were on Greg now, unrelenting.

"Greg," he said slowly, like someone about to peel away a mask. "Before we go further, I need to ask you one last time. Do you... or did you... have feelings for Cammy?"

Cammy’s breath hitched. Ric turned slightly toward Greg, his posture tightening.

Greg inhaled deeply. His jaw shifted as though the words were lodged in his throat. His eyes flicked to Cammy—just a brief second—but it held long time of silence. Pain. Longing. Regret. He forced himself to look away and cleared his throat.

"No," Greg said finally. His voice was firm, but there was a splinter in it. "Cammy is just a friend. Someone who helped me when I needed it most. What I feel... is gratitude. Nothing more."

Cammy swallowed hard, her gaze dropping to her lap. The words should’ve brought her peace—but instead, they carved something deep inside her. A loss she didn’t know she was holding onto.

Richard studied him for a long moment. "Good," he said flatly, though his tone was unreadable. "Because we’re at a turning point—and clarity is essential."

Then he turned to Cammy.

"I want you to be prepared," Richard said. "Starting now. And if you’re serious about regaining CorEx... then being powerful will be your best weapon. We’ll announce the DNA results publicly in the coming weeks. I want the world to know you are a Cross."

The air in Richard’s office grew taut once more, not with confrontation this time, but with consequence. Cammy sat straighter, her heart pounding as she prepared to bare the weight of her burden to the man who now called her family.

"There’s something else I need to tell you," she began, voice careful but firm. "It’s about my son, Dylan."

Richard’s gaze sharpened. "Go on."

"I’m currently in a custody battle," she continued. "My ex-husband, Duncan, was granted full custody. I was only given visitation rights... supervised visitation, at that."

Ric’s hand found hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

Richard’s face darkened like a storm front rolling over still waters. His jaw clenched, nostrils flared, and he rose slowly from his chair, as if to contain the rising fury within him. "That boy is my grandson," he growled. "A Cross by blood. My blood. And some petty court had the audacity to strip you of your rights as a mother?"

Cammy nodded, trying to steady her voice. "Yes. And it was my fault, I guess. I wasn’t prepared enough."

"You do now," Richard said, pacing behind his desk like a lion in a cage. "I want you to join Cross Holdings. Effective immediately. After I make the announcement that you are one of my rightful heirs, the world will know you’re a Cross. That boy will come home to us."

But Cammy raised a hand gently, stopping him. "No," she said, surprising them all.

"No?" Richard echoed, eyes narrowing.

"I want to wait until I get Dylan back," Cammy explained, her voice unwavering. "If I accept your name now and make a public announcement, it could be used against me in court. They’ll say I’m being influenced, that I’m buying power, or that I’ve sold myself to a new family to win the case. I don’t want Dylan to be caught in that kind of crossfire."

Richard paused, slowly lowering back into his seat. The gears in his mind turned.

"I also want to learn more," Cammy added. "I don’t want to walk into Cross Holdings as the boss’s daughter. I want to earn my place. Learn the ins and outs of running a business. Be someone Dylan can look up to—someone capable."

Silence filled the room for a few beats. Then Richard gave a small, approving nod. "You have a point. My family has enemies in every shadow. They’d use your case to try to ruin us. So you’re right. Let’s hold off on the announcement... for now.

But rest assured, Cammy—you will have all the resources you need to win that case. Lawyers, investigators, press coverage—whatever it takes. We’ll bury Duncan and that circus of a lawyer he hired."

"Thank you," Cammy whispered, swallowing the emotion rising in her throat.

"But there’s one more thing," she said, exchanging a glance with Ric. free𝑤ebnovel.com

Richard arched a brow, waiting.

"It’s about the conservatorship," Cammy said. "Because of what happened with my mental health before the divorce, I was placed under a temporary conservatorship. It’s not with my family, but it still binds me.

Grace’s law firm advised that one way to break it... is to marry someone. If I do, the conservatorship will legally transfer to my husband, and then we can file for its dissolution."

Richard leaned forward slowly, eyes glittering with interest.

And then Ric stood.

"I want to ask for Cammy’s hand in marriage," he said, voice strong, his Italian accent thick with resolve. "Not because of the court or convenience. Because I love her. I want to protect her. And Dylan, too. I want to give them a real home."

Cammy looked up at him, breath caught in her throat.

Richard regarded Ric with the piercing scrutiny of a man used to reading hearts like ledgers. Then a small, knowing smile played at his lips.

"I know your father," Richard said. "We met at the World Food Summit in Florence. He spoke highly of you even then." He turned to Cammy. "And if you trust this man... then I will too."

Then he turned to Ric and stood once more. "So yes. I will bless this union—with my full permission."

Ric nodded, solemn and proud, while Cammy’s eyes shimmered with the storm of everything she’d endured—and everything she was about to reclaim.

Greg stood silently by the windows of Richard’s office, his face cast in shadow. Though his posture was relaxed, his clenched fists told another story—knuckles white, jaw tight, eyes fixed blankly on the night outside.

The echoes of Ric’s voice—confident, secure, beloved—rang in his ears like the cruel ticking of a clock that had run out of time.

Cammy... was slipping further away.

And it wasn’t just the announcement that shattered him. It was the way her eyes softened when Ric touched her hand. The way her lips curved, not from tension or duty, but from genuine appreciation.

He didn’t even realize Richard was speaking again until the older man’s deep voice boomed through the room.

"Gregory," Richard said, his tone suddenly directive, snapping Greg out of his haze.

Greg turned, eyes guarded but obedient.

"You are their friend, aren’t you?" Richard asked, although it wasn’t really a question. "Cammy and Ric will need all the help they can get. Lawyers, logistics... and now, wedding preparations. I want you to support them."

Greg’s throat tightened. "Of course," he said evenly, masking the quiver that threatened to betray him. "Whatever Cammy needs."

Richard gave a satisfied nod and turned back to Ric, launching into a story about Ric’s father, and how he once beat a Saudi prince in a blind taste test in Milan. The two men laughed, the sound warm and foreign in Greg’s ears.

Greg looked at Cammy then—at the woman who once held his hand through the darkest moments of his life. She had been his anchor, his coconspirator, his safe harbor. But now, someone else had her heart.

And though Greg had once told himself that what he felt was gratitude...

He now knew, too late, that it was far more than that.

His heart felt like it was fracturing in silence, piece by piece, while the world around him kept spinning as if nothing had changed.

But everything had.

She was no longer his.

And he would be forced to plan the celebration that would give her to another man.

"Congratulations," he whispered to himself, bitter as ash on his tongue.