Cammy’s fury reached its boiling point. Without hesitation, she spat in his face. "Fuck you, Duncan! I don’t give a damn if you’re jealous. I am done with you. I will still divorce you!"
Duncan froze. For the first ti, genuine surprise flickered in his eyes as he stood there, motionless, staring at her. The defiance in her voice, the raw determination—it shook sothing in him.
A tense silence stretched between them before he exhaled sharply, reaching into his pocket for a handkerchief. He wiped the spit from his cheek with an eerie calmness, and when Cammy saw it—the slow, amused smirk creeping across his lips—her stomach twisted.
Then, to her utter disbelief, Duncan started laughing.
It was low at first, a rumble in his chest before it grew louder, more nacing. He was still pinning her hands above her head, his body pressing her against the cold wall as his laughter echoed through the office.
Then, in an instant, his laughter died. His expression shifted—his eyes turned dark, cruel, filled with sothing far more dangerous than anger.
Before she could react, Duncan’s free hand shot up, grabbing a fistful of her hair. He yanked it back sharply, forcing her head to tilt, exposing the delicate curve of her neck. Cammy winced, her teeth clenching as pain shot through her scalp.
"Stop, Duncan! You’re hurting !" she protested, struggling beneath his hold.
But Duncan leaned in, his breath ghosting over her skin. "Tell , my wife..." he uttered, his voice dripping with venom. "Has Gregory Cross touched you yet? Did you let him have you?" His grip tightened, pulling her hair harder.
A choked gasp escaped Cammy’s lips as tears pricked at her eyes. "Duncan, stop! You have no right to ask that when you’ve slept with countless won behind my back!" she cried, her voice breaking with fury and betrayal.
Duncan let out a dark chuckle, his fingers still tangled in her hair. "Ah, so this is revenge, then?" He scoffed, his lips brushing dangerously close to her ear. "Those won were necessary—they were part of the plan to help your father. You have no idea what I had to do, what I sacrificed, just to save that fucking company."
"You don’t have to save it!" Cammy said, her voice shaking with fury. "I’m divorcing you, Duncan! There’s no need for you to do my father any favors. Take everything—I don’t want a damn thing from you. No conjugal assets, no child support. Just let raise my son alone!"
But Duncan didn’t loosen his grip. Not on her wrists. Not on her hair. If anything, his hold seed to tighten, his fingers digging into her skin as if staking a claim he refused to relinquish.
This wasn’t the first ti he had manhandled her like this—his temper had always been a beast lurking beneath the surface. But this ti... this ti felt different. They were in his office, surrounded by walls of glass and polished wood. Cammy had assud that ant he wouldn’t dare cross a certain line.
But oh, how wrong she was.
Before she could react, Duncan’s knee forced its way between her legs, pushing them apart. Cammy’s breath hitched—shit. He wasn’t just holding her down; he was making sure she couldn’t use their position to strike back, to drive her knee where it would hurt him most.
Her pulse pounded in her ears, her mind screaming at her to fight, to do sothing. But just as she gathered herself to push him away, she felt it—his hand, sliding beneath her long skirt. Slow, deliberate. His fingers traced up the curve of her thigh, his touch searing into her skin like a brand.
A wave of panic crashed over her.
"What the hell are you doing, Duncan?!" she gasped, her voice sharp with alarm. She thrashed against him, but he held her firm, unmoved by her struggle.
Her heart pounded violently as she tried again, her voice rising. "Get your hands off , or I swear I will scream!"
But Duncan only smirked, his dark eyes glinting with sothing dangerously close to amusent.
Duncan’s voice was low, taunting, yet laced with an undeniable threat. He leaned in closer, his breath fanning against her ear as he murmured,
"Go on, Mrs. Veston. Scream. Shout until your lungs give out—I dare you." He let the words sink in, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "And the mont you do, I’ll make sure our son cos ho with the second he’s discharged from the hospital."
He pulled back just enough to et her gaze, his eyes cold and unyielding. "You can wait for the court’s decision, but mark my words—if you so much as think about defying , I won’t just fight for my rights as his father." His lips curled into a cruel smirk. "I’ll take everything. I’ll make sure you walk away with nothing. No custody, no visitation—just the mory of what you lost."
Cammy cried but shut her mouth. She felt Duncan tugged her underwear and pulled it hard, tearing it apart before he threw it away.
Her tears overflowed when she heard him unbuckling his belt and pants. "Duncan, please. I will not ask for anything anymore, just let and Dylan go. We will not bother you I promise," Cammy pleaded as she sobbed.
"It’s okay, my love. I want you to bother , we are family. You, , Dylan, and your parents. Let’s go back to how we were before, huh? Can’t we do that?" Duncan said in a low but dark voice before he started kissing Cammy on the lips still pining her hands while his other hand went between her legs.
Cammy squird and tried hard to release herself from Duncan’s grip but he was just too powerful for her to be pushed away.
"Duncan please, don’t do this. Let’s talk," Cammy wailed when Duncan’s lips went to her neck.
She kept struggling but Duncan grabbed her neck hard making her freeze.
"Stop moving! I will make you rember who is your husband. I will make you rember who was the first man who took your virginity and made you a woman! It was , Cammy, do not fucking–"
Cammy’s sobs were abruptly silenced, her breath catching in her throat as she watched Duncan’s body hurl backward, crashing onto his desk with a loud thud. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide in shock. The power dynamic in the room had shifted in an instant.
Before she could fully process what had happened, Greg was already striding toward Duncan, his every movent radiating fury. Duncan groaned, barely pushing himself up when Greg grabbed a fistful of his shirt, yanking him forward.
Then—crack!
Greg’s fist connected with Duncan’s jaw in a brutal punch, snapping his head to the side. Blood sared the corner of Duncan’s mouth as he slumped against the desk, montarily stunned.
"Greg, stop!" Cammy’s voice trembled as she ran toward them. She clutched Greg’s arm, pulling at him with all her strength. "You can’t do this here! Not in his office!"
She knew the consequences—attacking Duncan here, on his own turf, could backfire horribly. But Greg wasn’t backing down. His grip on Duncan’s shirt remained tight, his body tense with barely restrained rage.
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