Kamille’s POV

My phone blared loudly, startling me. I quickly picked it up, careful not to wake Royer, who was sleeping soundly nearby. Zeke’s presence lingered in the room; his eyes watched me with a mixture of concern and curiosity. Despite his divorce, nothing changed. I ensured my privacy remained intact while I answered the phone.

Relief flooded me as Christopher’s voice filled the line. “What happened? I’ve been trying to reach you,” he exclaimed, his worry evident.

I took a deep breath. “Don’t worry, I’m fine,” I reassured him, feeling guilty for not responding sooner. “Royer was injured, but he’s receiving treatment and is okay.”

There was a pause. Chris’s voice, tinged with remorse, followed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know,” he said softly.

“It’s okay. Thank you for your concern,” I replied.

Chris sighed. “I even considered checking hospitals to find you,” he admitted.

A small smile touched my lips. “That’s thoughtful, but you didn’t need to,” I said, touched by his gesture.

“It’s the least I could do,” Chris insisted. “I’d feel terrible not visiting, especially since I’ve been searching for you.”

Gratitude washed over me. “Alright then. I’ll send you the address,” I said softly.

I quickly sent him the hospital address. “Thank you so much. This means a lot,” I said before ending the call.

I felt Zeke’s gaze but ignored it. Within five minutes, the nurses at reception called.

“Hello, Ma’am,” a voice said.

“Hello,” I replied.

“Someone is here to see you. Mr. Christopher George. Should we let him in?” the nurse asked.

Chris? How did he get here so fast? I turned to Zeke. His expression was unreadable. I sighed. “Let him in.”

There was a pause. “Of course, we’ll send him up right away,” the nurse said before hanging up. Uncertainty flickered in my eyes as I glanced at Zeke.

Zeke’s POV

“Who was that?” I asked Kamille as she ended her call.

“Uh, Royer’s teacher. He wants to visit,” she replied, avoiding my gaze.

“But Royer’s asleep,” I said immediately.

“Well, I guess he’ll see me then,” Kamille shrugged and left the room.

She was in her nightwear, revealing more than I wanted another man to see. I followed her to the reception area of the private ward to wait for Chris, but something felt wrong.

“Oh my God, Kamille! How are you doing? How’s Royer?”

Kamille and I turned toward the voice. What the fuck?! How did this son of a bitch get here so fast?

“I’m fine, Mr. Chris. Thank you for coming,” she smiled at him.

Jealousy pricked me. Despite controlling my emotions, unease settled over me. How could Chris be here so quickly? And now he’s acting affectionate in front of me?

“Chris, how did you get here so fast?” Kamille asked, confused.

Chris hesitated, his eyes darting between Kamille and me. “I was in the area,” he said vaguely.

Suspicion gnawed at me.

“In the area? That’s quite a coincidence,” Kamille remarked, skeptical.

Chris’s expression faltered briefly before he smiled. “Well, I was worried about you and Royer, of course,” he said, lacking conviction.

Something about him felt off—calculated, rehearsed. Then he hugged Kamille tightly. Jealousy and anger surged.

His words intensified my anger. “How’s Royer? I hope he’s okay. I’m so sorry for what happened. I saw the news.”

Kamille nodded, breaking away. “Thank you, Chris. Royer is stable,” she replied, exhausted.

“What do you want me to do? Do you want me to crush them? Just say the word,” he offered.

My blood boiled. Who did he think he was, offering vengeance? Who was this primary school teacher, so familiar with Kamille’s personal life?

Suppressing my urge to lash out, I clenched my fists. Kamille’s laughter cut through the tension. “Don’t worry, they’ll meet their karma,” she assured him.

“Mr. Chris, meet Mr. Ezekiel Reid. Zeke, meet Mr. Christopher George, my kids’ teacher,” Kamille introduced us.

I forced a smile, my jaw clenched. Chris greeted me familiarly, as if we were old acquaintances. “Oh, Mr. Reid, you’re here,” he remarked casually.

I’ve been here the whole time, you asshole.

I glared at him, but Kamille spoke first.

“You guys know each other?” she asked.

“The whole of London knows Mr. Reid, of course,” Chris chuckled. His voice grated on me.

“Great. How about you gentlemen keep each other company while I go to bed? I need sleep,” she insisted. “And thank you again, Mr. Chris.” He nodded.

As Kamille left, Chris grabbed her hand. My eyes burned.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. “Please, if you need anything, call me. How about the bills? Can I help?”

I gritted my teeth. Who was he to offer Kamille his support so freely? His presence enraged me.

Kamille smiled and declined his offer. “I have health insurance,” she said firmly.

Pride swelled within me. Finally finding my voice, I spoke with firm resolve.

“That’s not necessary,” I interjected, my voice laced with barely contained anger. “She doesn’t need to worry about health insurance in my hospital.”

“Sure. Thank you, Zeke. Goodnight, gentlemen,” Kamille said and disappeared.

I turned to Chris, my glare freezing. “You heard her,” I said firmly. “She doesn’t need your help. She has me.”