Kamille’s POV

I’d just finished my bath. Stepping out of the bathroom, I couldn't help but linger on everything Zeke had done for me. He'd provided toiletries, towels, nightwear, comfortable flip-flops, pillows, and a soft bed—all in a private hospital ward. He was incredibly thoughtful and caring.

"Hush now, don't overthink it," I sighed.

I dressed and returned to the room. Royer was sleeping peacefully. I smoothed the wrinkles from the bedsheets, took a deep breath, and settled in. The softness enveloped me like a comforting embrace.

"Damn, this is quite relieving," I whispered.

The day had been dramatic enough; all I needed was a peaceful night's rest. But before I could achieve that, my phone buzzed with a flurry of notifications. Frowning, I picked it up to see missed calls and texts from Chris. "Oh, fuck! How could I have forgotten Chris?" I muttered.

As I was about to reply, another message arrived, this one from Amanda. The words sent a surge of adrenaline through me: Liz Manor had been detained and stripped of her rights and privileges as a fighter.

A smirk tugged at my lips. "Looks like I've won this round," I whispered triumphantly, relishing my victory.

With Liz out of the picture, Gabriel Manor was next. "One by one, they'll all pay for what they did to me," I said, feeling determined.

As I lay back, my mind raced with plans and strategies. This was just the beginning of reclaiming what was mine, and nothing would stop me.

Suddenly, Royer sneezed, breaking the silence. My concern immediately overshadowed my earlier thoughts. I rushed to his bed, checking on him. Relieved to see him only sniffling, I said softly, "You scared me, little guy," brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.

Watching him sleep peacefully, my mind drifted back to a time when hospitals held a much darker significance. A memory I'd tried to bury resurfaced with vivid clarity: the last time I'd been in a hospital, Torin had been in Royer's place. It had been terrifying, a memory that still haunted me. Tyris had begged for a cat, and in my ignorance, I hadn't realized Torin had fur allergies.

After getting her the cat, Tyris proudly showed it to Torin. His reaction was severe, sending him into anaphylactic shock. I'd been alone, clueless, and overwhelmed as I rushed him to the hospital. Panic gripped me as I navigated the chaotic corridors, the fear of losing my child looming.

The hospital had been filled with the sounds of beeping machines, doctors shouting orders, and patients crying out in pain. I'd felt utterly helpless, my heart pounding as I prayed for Torin's recovery. I couldn't afford a hospital like Reid's; our area lacked sophisticated facilities, and I couldn't afford a nanny. I'd begged the nurses to bend the rules so my three children could stay with me, violating the one-person-per-room rule. I'd been desperate, with no one else to turn to.

But unlike that dreadful night, this time was different. I wasn't alone. I had friends who'd become family, and a nanny. The contrast filled me with profound gratitude. I also had Zeke, someone I could surprisingly trust with my children's well-being—our children.

It seemed only fair to confide in him about the children. He deserved to know. But first, I had to execute my plans for the Manors.

As I considered this, I remembered Zeke and Ellen's divorce, triggering memories of my own. Ellen, my supposed sister, had been a constant source of pain and turmoil during my marriage. The emotional and psychological abuse I endured, with Zeke as her accomplice, left deep scars.

Thinking about their divorce—after all I'd suffered—felt like a slap in the face. "Fuck that," I muttered, clenching my fists. I refused to let their actions dictate my emotions. I'd fought too hard to reclaim my life.

My phone pinged with another message from Chris, jolting me back to the present. Guilt washed over me as I read his message. He'd followed me to the restaurant but couldn't find me and had been trying to reach me since. I'd been distracted and hadn't replied.

I covered Royer with a blanket and returned to my bed to reply to Chris. As I reached for my phone, Zeke entered the room.

Before I could turn, he enveloped me in a hug. Instinctively, I wanted to push him away, but his embrace was warm and soothing, and I melted into it despite my reservations.

I glanced at my phone, frustration rising. How was I supposed to respond to Chris with Zeke here?

He pulled away slightly, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

Panic surged. "What's happening? Is everything okay?" I blurted, imagining worst-case scenarios.

Zeke shook his head, anger in his expression. "No, it's not about the kids," he replied, his face softening.

Relief washed over me, quickly replaced by a sinking feeling. I knew what he meant before he spoke. He'd seen the videos. Amanda had released them everywhere—blogs, TV channels, and shows—achieving her desired effect.

"I'm fine, Zeke," I said quietly, unable to meet his gaze.

He sighed, his anger simmering beneath a softer expression. "I'm so sorry for all you went through," he said gently, his voice filled with empathy.

I nodded. "Thank you, Zeke," I whispered.