Kamille’s POV

Grateful that I’d appeared calm around Belle and Amanda, leading them to believe I’d resigned myself to waiting for Zeke’s return, I showered and took a cold bath.

Stepping out of the shower, I found Belle standing in my room. “Sorry,” she said, “I heard the water and came to see what was up.”

“Thank you, but I was just bathing,” I replied, looking away.

“Kamille, are you sure you’re okay?” Belle asked, concern etched on her face.

I nodded, forcing a smile. “Yes, Belle. I just need to rest. Maybe sleep will help.”

Belle squeezed my hand. “We’ll be here if you need anything.”

“Thanks,” I replied, feeling guilty about deceiving her. “I appreciate it.”

I went to bed and pretended to sleep, lying still and counting the minutes until the house grew quiet. When I was sure everyone was asleep, I slipped out of bed, quietly grabbed my phone and the note the driver had given me, and dialed his number, my hands trembling.

“Hello?” he answered.

“It’s Kamille,” I whispered. (Removing "Manor" as it sounds unnatural in this context.)

“I need your help,” I said, explaining my plan.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his worry evident. “It’s dangerous.”

“I have no choice,” I said, my voice breaking. “My kids are in danger. Please, I need to do this.”

After a brief pause, he agreed to meet me. I crept out of the house, my heart pounding. Every creak of the floorboards sounded like a thunderclap.

I slipped outside unnoticed, but then I had to distract the security guards. I threw a stone in the direction of my hiding place. Two guards went to investigate the sound; two others went inside to check.

This was my chance. I tiptoed away and found the cab waiting.

Climbing into the back seat, I gasped for breath. “Thank you for coming,” I said, my voice trembling.

The driver nodded, his eyes reflecting my fear. “Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure,” I admitted. “I have to call them for the location, but first, let’s get out of here.”

He nodded, started the car, and we sped off into the night. We drove until we reached a crossroads.

“We need to know exactly where we’re going,” he said, looking at me in the rearview mirror.

I dialed the number from the message, my fingers shaking so badly I almost dropped the phone. It rang twice before someone answered.

“We can see you,” a cold voice said. “Get out of the cab and into the car in front of you.”

Were they following me?

The call ended abruptly. My stomach churned. I saw a dark car parked nearby, with two masked men inside, watching me.

“I can’t abandon my kids,” I whispered. “I have to do this.”

He nodded, his face pale. “Be careful.”

I stepped out of the cab, my legs feeling like lead. Each step toward the car was an effort. One of the masked men opened the door.

“Get in,” he ordered.

I climbed into the back seat, my heart racing. The car’s interior was dimly lit, and the masked men stared straight ahead, their expressions hidden. The car pulled away, and I felt a sickening dread.

We drove in silence, the city lights blurring past. I couldn’t stop shaking, couldn’t stop the terror. Thinking of my children gave me strength.

After what felt like an eternity, the car stopped at a building I recognized—the building where I’d met the lawyer’s dead proxy. Why were they bringing me here? What if they wanted to kill me?

My breath hitched. Fear clawed at me, but I forced myself to stay calm. I had to do this for my kids.

The men led me inside, down the same dark hallway, to the same room. The air was thick with dust and decay. My heart pounded loudly.

In the center of the room stood a man who looked exactly like the dead lawyer. He turned, a cold smile on his lips.

“Kamille,” he said, his voice eerily familiar. “I’m glad you could join us.”

I swallowed hard. “Where are my kids?”

“All in good time,” he replied smoothly. “First, we have some business to attend to.”

He gestured to a table with a stack of papers. “Sign these, and your children will be returned to you.”

My hands trembled as I approached the table. The papers were a transfer of my assets and documents dropping all charges against Gabriel and Liz.

“I will sign, but I need to see my babies first. I need to know they’re safe.”

His smile faltered, replaced by annoyance. “You are not in a position to make demands.”

I looked at him, my eyes burning. “How do I know you’ll keep your word?”

“You don’t,” he said with a shrug. “But what choice do you have?”

Helplessness washed over me. He was right. My children’s lives were at stake. I picked up the pen, my hand shaking.

I paused. They were going through all this trouble for my signature. They would do anything to get it.

“I’ll need to see my kids and be sure they’re alright first,” I demanded.

“I see some feistiness, but I wouldn’t push it,” the masked man sneered.

“What do you mean?” I asked, fear gripping me.

He leaned in, his eyes glinting. “Besides signing those papers, there are other terms to discuss. And if you fail to comply… your children’s safety isn’t guaranteed.”

My blood ran cold. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just please, don’t hurt them, and let me see them.”

He straightened, his smile unwavering. “Good. Then we have an understanding. Follow my instructions, and they will be safe. Any deviation, and you will regret it.”

I nodded, tears streaming down my face. “I understand.”