My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 51: Lion’s Den

Cammy stood in the living room, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling window as she waited for Greg to return. She marveled at the view from his penthouse, able to see Cross Tech and even her own neighborhood from up there.

"It’s a breathtaking view, isn’t it?" Greg’s voice broke her reverie, drawing her attention.

Cammy turned to face him, smiling broadly. "It is, and now I see why you chose this place. It’s so calm compared to the bustling city below."

"You’re right," Greg chuckled, "plus, it’s close to the office." His practical reason amused her.

"Are you always this dedicated to work?" she teased.

"Yes, I try to stay as occupied as possible," he replied. "My employees and clients rely on the company."

Cammy pressed her lips together, managing a small smile. She couldn’t quite understand why she felt Greg was carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders when, from the outside, his life appeared flawless.

"Yes, exactly. They rely on the company as a whole—not just on you," she said gently. "You have a team to help manage everything. You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself."

Greg’s expression softened into a smile. It had been a while since anyone reminded him to ease up; most people simply demanded his time, both at work and beyond.

"Why do I get the feeling you’re worried about me?" he asked, his tone surprisingly direct but not playful or teasing. "Do you care about me, Cammy?"

His question caught her off guard, and her heart skipped a beat. There’s something about him that she just couldn’t brush off. ’Do I care about him? Well, of course! He’s my boss; without him, we wouldn’t even have jobs! That’s why,’ she thought, her eyes lingering on him.

"Well, it seems like you’re having trouble answering that," Greg said with a smile, gesturing for Cammy to sit on the sofa. "Why don’t you take a seat, and let’s go over what you’ll be doing this Sunday."

Once she sat down, Greg handed her a stack of documents he’d printed earlier. "These are the people who will likely attend the event. Some are already clients, and others are potential ones. I need you to get familiar with their names, faces, and the type of businesses they run. That way, it’ll be easier for you to take notes while we’re in conversation."

Cammy scanned the list, her brow furrowing. "Greg, this could be a problem. Some of these people knew Duncan, and there’s a chance they’ll recognize me."

"Let’s talk through it," Greg said. "I need to know if you were properly introduced to any of them and how well they know you. That way, we can plan accordingly. Whether or not you’re officially my assistant, you’ll still need to be there for Dylan."

"You’re right. There’s little chance I’ll be able to avoid them completely," she admitted. "Let me separate them by familiarity so I can give you more details on our past interactions."

Cammy then pointed out those most likely to recognize her, along with others she’d met before but would probably not remember her well.

"So, it’s really just three people who got close enough to you," Greg said thoughtfully. "This should be manageable. Only one of them has a child enrolled in the school, and it’s likely just the wife who will be mingling with the other mothers, while her husband sticks to socializing with the men."

"The other two are just sponsors, so they probably won’t have much interest in the school activities. I could handle talking with them while you’re with Dylan. I’m also considering hiring a hair and makeup artist to help change up your look a bit. What do you think?"

"That’s an unnecessary expense; you really don’t have to," Cammy replied. "I can do my own hair and makeup. Don’t worry about it."

"No, this isn’t up for debate," Greg said firmly. "This isn’t just for you—it’s also for the company. You’re our lead designer for Crossmart, and if your identity is exposed, Duncan will come straight after you. Worst case, he’ll target your son.

If that happens, we risk losing Crossmart’s lead designer. It may not seem like a big deal right now, but as a businessman, I can’t afford to jeopardize something that valuable. You’re one of our key assets, Cammy.

You’re important to me and the company. Imagine these people recognizing you and informing Duncan that you’re still around, while Grace isn’t yet ready with your case. Are you ready to handle what could follow? Because it could cause serious disruption in your life. Is that what you want?"

Cammy took a few steady breaths, absorbing Greg’s reasoning and searching for alternatives to avoid those people without accepting further help from him—but she couldn’t think of any.

"You’re right... Fine, we’ll do it your way. But charge the cost to me, okay?" she offered.

"How about we split it? Just to keep things fair. I’m the one insisting on the extra precautions, so I should cover some of it. Sound fair?" Greg extended his hand, and Cammy accepted it with a quick handshake.

"Deal! Is there anything else we need to discuss? If not, I should head out—it’s getting late, and finding a taxi might be tough."

"I’ll drive you. Let’s go." Greg stood up, not giving Cammy a chance to refuse, and headed straight for the elevator.

"W-Wait! You don’t have to drive me home! Stop!" Cammy protested, but Greg didn’t stop or even glance back; he simply picked up his car keys from the console table by the elevator.

When the doors opened, he stepped inside and looked back at her. "Are you coming or not?"

Cammy’s expression was exasperated. She rolled her eyes and sighed before finally walking toward him.

"Don’t forget your dress and shoes!" Greg called out.

"Oh, right! Ugh!" Cammy clicked her tongue and turned back to grab the box. She was out of breath by the time she got into the elevator, and before she could react, Greg took the box from her hands.

"I’ll carry it—take a moment to catch your breath."

Cammy huffed, "I’ve told you, you don’t have to drive me home. I can still find a taxi at this hour."

"I know," Greg replied with a small smile, "but I’d like to know where you live. Besides, I ate a lot, so a bit of walking will do me good."

"But you’re not walking, you’re driving," she pointed out.

Greg chuckled, "Well, I walked to the elevator, I’ll walk to the car, and I’ll walk back to my place. It still counts, doesn’t it?"

Cammy scoffed, murmuring, "You’re just doing this to annoy me." But Greg caught every word.

Without warning, he pressed the box back into her arms, gently nudging her backward until her back met the elevator wall. Leaning in, he placed his hands against the wall on either side of her, boxing her in.

"Instead of thinking I’m just here to irritate you, why not see it differently?" he murmured, his voice low. "I’ll admit it—I wanted more time with you. I was thrilled when you came here tonight, without any pushing from me. So maybe I am selfish for not wanting this evening to end... Not when you willingly stepped into the lion’s den..."