Kamille’s POV

Stepping from the steamy bathroom, a towel wrapped around me, I reached for the hairdryer. Its soft whirring filled the air as I brushed my damp hair, coaxing it into submission.

Midway through, my phone buzzed. Zeke’s name flashed on the caller ID. My heart skipped a beat. Why the hell was he calling?

For a moment, I considered answering, then remembered his lies.

With a sigh, I put the phone down and started to dress. As I dried my hair, my thoughts returned to the letter I’d received earlier. The address—a car park near a playground—loomed in my mind. I considered the safety of the location, and whether to call for backup. Even the thought of calling Zeke back crossed my mind, but no. I wouldn't use his feelings.

Anticipation mounted, fueling my determination to find the truth, no matter the cost. Finishing my hair, I chose a smart outfit: my favorite jeans, a cozy jacket, and a cap to shield my face. The weight of my task settled upon me like a cloak. With each step toward the door, my resolve strengthened. I had been a Manor all my life. A fucking true Manor. Grandma Monica's will, detailed in that letter, was my only evidence, and meeting this lawyer would restore me to my rightful place.

Downstairs, I told Nanny Dona I was going out for a short time, assuring her I'd return soon. Despite the gravity of the situation, adrenaline surged through me.

"Safe journey, Ms. Kamille," Nanny Dona said.

Stepping into the cool evening air, my mind raced. The Manors wouldn't know what hit them.

But as I reached for my car door, Zeke appeared, startling me. He gripped my arms, his eyes intense.

"Zeke, what the hell are you doing here?" I asked, a mixture of irritation and delight in my voice.

"You weren't answering my calls, Kamille," he replied.

We stood locked in silence, unspoken words hanging heavy. Then, his voice, urgent and concerned, broke through.

"Kamille, please," he pleaded, his tone soft yet desperate. "You can't do this alone. Let me help you."

Familiar emotions stirred, but while a part of me longed to accept his offer, another part knew I had to be firm. I gently but firmly pulled away, meeting his gaze with strong determination.

"I appreciate your concern, Zeke," I said, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. "But this is something I need to do on my own."

Turning toward my car, I felt the weight of his presence.

"Why are you insistent on standing in my way?" I asked.

"Just hear me out, Kamille," Zeke retorted. "I haven't been comfortable keeping information from you, and I really need to talk."

"Fine," I replied, leaning against my car, facing him.

My heart pounded. The air crackled with tension.

"You got the video, right?" Zeke asked, his eyes locked on mine.

Shock jolted me. "So, you knew too?" I asked, my voice trembling.

He nodded slowly. "Not initially. But I kept monitoring them. When I was sure of the extent of their evil, you'd already had the accident."

The puzzle pieces fell into place. "So, you were the secret helper who gave me money?" I whispered.

Zeke's eyes softened. He nodded. "That alimony was never enough compensation. After the hospital, I searched for you, but didn't know where you went. That's why I was so protective of you and the kids."

My eyes widened. "You knew about the kids?" I yelled, my surprise and anger uncontainable.

How could he have known? They strongly resembled him, but was that enough?

"Yes," he replied calmly. "And I want to help. Please, Kamille, let me take care of them."

I shook my head, emotions swirling. "It's not necessary, Zeke. I've been taking care of them, and I will continue."

He called my name softly, but I cut him off, abruptly leaving the car.

"I have an appointment," I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

Zeke looked at me, concern etched on his face. "Let me drop you off."

"No, it's fine," I insisted, my resolve weakening.

"Please, Kamille," he persisted, and I sighed in resignation.

"Fine," I muttered, grabbing my bag and getting into the passenger seat.

The drive was silent. I glanced at him; his profile was illuminated by the sunlight.

Pulling up to my destination, I turned to him, emotions still in turmoil. "Thank you for the ride," I said stiffly.

"Kamille, wait," he said, gently gripping my arm. "Please, let's talk more. There's so much we need to sort out."

I shook my head, tears stinging my eyes. "I can't, Zeke. Not right now."

He released my arm, his expression a mix of frustration and sadness. "Okay. But promise me you'll consider letting me help."

I nodded reluctantly. "I'll think about it."