The mont Greg stepped into Duncan’s house, his eyes instinctively road the space, taking in every detail. He had expected sothing entirely different—perhaps an overtly feminine touch, soft pastels, delicate florals, and an ambiance that scread Cammy’s presence. Instead, what greeted him was a perfect blend of masculine and feminine aesthetics, a harmony of strength and elegance.
The house exuded modern sophistication, with a sleek monochromatic palette punctuated by bold pops of color in the décor. It was a stark contrast to his own ho, which was rooted in traditional design, filled with rich woods and classic elents.
"So, what do you think?" Cammy asked, watching his reaction closely.
Greg’s gaze was still wandering, unable to hide his surprise. "Honestly? I didn’t expect this. I thought I’d walk into a world of pink, yellow, maybe even fuchsia—but this... this is way beyond what I imagined."
Cammy let out a soft laugh. "Fuchsia? That’s extre. Why would you think that?"
Greg smirked. "Because you’re a woman, that’s why."
That made Cammy laugh even harder. "Not all won are obsessed with pink, Greg. Besides, I was a married woman when I decorated this place. I had to consider the person I was living with, too. But tell , do you like it?"
Greg nodded appreciatively. "More than like it. It’s impressive. Are you sure you’re not an aspiring interior designer?" he teased.
Cammy grinned. "Not really, but I did have so help from an app," she admitted. "Although, if I ever get the chance to design another house, I’d want a modern farmhouse. I’ve always dread of a ho where I can be in the kitchen, surrounded by my husband and kids, cooking or baking together."
Greg’s heart pounded at her words. His voice dropped slightly as he responded, "That dream... it’s not impossible, Cammy."
She smirked, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she fluttered her lashes dramatically. "Oh? Is that so?" she drawled, her tone dripping with playful seduction.
Greg swallowed hard, sothing deep within him stirring. "Y-Yeah..." he stamred, then quickly regained his composure. "And the man standing right in front of you could very well be in that future. Did you forget? Or do you need to remind you?"
Before she could respond, he stepped in closer, closing the space between them. His fingers grazed her chin as he tilted her face up, his lips descending toward hers, ready to claim a kiss filled with everything he wanted to say but hadn’t dared to.
"Ehem, ehem..."
A deliberate cough shattered the mont, forcing them apart.
Greg clenched his jaw in frustration as they both turned to see an older man standing across the room, watching them with a disapproving expression.
Cammy’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. "Frank! I was wondering when you’d finally show yourself."
The butler, Frank, straightened his posture, his stern gaze flickering between them before settling on Greg with an unmistakable look of scrutiny. "I was occupied when you arrived, but I am here now. Do you need assistance with anything, Madam?" His voice was formal, crisp, and obviously filled with judgnt.
Cammy shook her head. "No need, Frank. Debbie already got so boxes and plastic bags for . That should be enough. I won’t be staying long."
Frank gave a short nod. "As you wish, Madam. I’ll be nearby should you require anything."
Then, just before he turned away, his sharp eyes landed on Greg once more. He gave him a slow, deliberate once-over—from head to toe and back—before rolling his eyes and walking off.
As soon as the butler disappeared from view, Greg scoffed, shaking his head. "What’s his problem?" he muttered, his irritation barely concealed.
Cammy let out a soft chuckle, amusent dancing in her eyes. "Frank has been with Duncan long before I even entered the picture. His loyalty is ironclad. And after seeing us almost kissing, well, let’s just say you’re probably public enemy number one in his book."
Greg smirked, a mischievous glint lighting up his gaze. "Ah, so you’re saying he hated because he caught us almost kissing? Interesting." He took a step closer, lowering his voice as he teased, "That must an you were waiting for that kiss, huh?"
Cammy’s eyes widened slightly, but she quickly recovered, stepping back just out of his reach. She shook her head with an exasperated smile. "Stop with your flirting, Greg. I want to get this over with and leave as soon as possible. Let’s do what we ca here to do and then go ho."
Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and started up the stairs. She didn’t realize that her last word had struck a chord deep within Greg.
’Ho.’
The word echoed in his mind, stirring sothing warm and possessive inside him. A slow, suppressed smile played at the corner of his lips.
’Yes, my ho is your ho too, Cammy. And I’d love for it to be your permanent ho. We can renovate it exactly how you want, or I could build you a brand-new one from the ground up. Hell, I’d spend a fortune if it ant making you happy. As long as you’re there... that’s all that matters,’ he thought.
Lost in his thoughts, he barely registered Cammy’s voice calling out from halfway up the staircase. "Are you coming or not?"
Snapping back to reality, Greg grinned and quickly followed. "Coming!"
With that, he took wide, purposeful strides to catch up with the woman who had unknowingly taken up residence in his heart.
As they made their way to Dylan’s room, they nearly collided with Debbie in the hallway. She was struggling with a stack of boxes, but Greg quickly relieved her of the burden without hesitation.
Debbie helped pack Dylan’s belongings—the little things he loved, the cherished gifts he had received.
"Debbie, please place these by his car," Cammy instructed, her voice calm but firm. "I won’t be taking much for myself. Just a few essentials that will fit in my suitcase. Also, could you pack Dylan’s prescription dicine? I bought a fresh supply two months ago, and I can’t replace them easily. Leave everything by his car—we’ll be down as soon as I’m done here."
Debbie gave a small nod before walking away, leaving Cammy and Greg alone once more.
"Let’s go," she said, tightening her grip on Greg’s hand. "I just need to grab so jewelry, clothes, and a few gifts I’ve received." Without another word, she all but dragged him toward the master bedroom.
The mont they stepped inside, Cammy moved with purpose. She knew exactly where her things were—everything neatly packed away, untouched. But as her eyes swept the room, she caught sight of sothing unfamiliar.
Her body went still.
She exhaled slowly, her mind racing. Then, a slow, knowing smirk curved her lips.
Turning to Greg, she grabbed his wrist and guided him toward the foot of the bed. Without warning, she pushed him down to sit. His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t protest. Instead, he studied her, intrigued, waiting to see what she would do next.
Cammy straddled his lap, tilting her head as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a teasing kiss.
The brief contact sent a shiver down his spine, but she pulled back before it deepened.
"Do you want to help with my revenge?" she whispered, her voice a sultry murmur against his ear.
Greg’s lips curled into a slow smile. "Revenge, huh?" His grip on her waist tightened. "Tell what you need."
"Keep your eyes on . There’s a CCTV mounted opposite us," she continued. "That cara wasn’t there before. It moved. Frank must have told him we’re here."
Greg stilled.
"Duncan’s watching."
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