My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 59: Cuts and Bruises

"I’m so sorry, Mr. Moore—" Cammy blurted, dropping to her knees in front of her landlord before turning slightly toward his wife. "Mrs. Moore, please accept my apologies for my guests’ behavior. It’s entirely my fault. I should have been more careful. I take full responsibility and promise to fix this mess."

"Oh, dear," Mr. Moore murmured, as Mrs. Moore gently placed her hands on Cammy’s shoulders, encouraging her to stand.

"We appreciate your concern, but there’s no need to kneel," Mrs. Moore said kindly. "This isn’t your fault."

"I completely agree with my wife," Mr. Moore added. "You should make your guests pay for the damages. They look well-off, and I’m sure they’d be happy to cover it—maybe even fund a renovation for the whole building! We’d certainly appreciate that." He chuckled, hoping his lighthearted remark would lift Cammy’s spirits.

And he wasn’t wrong—Cammy, Eve, and even Mrs. Moore chuckled at the thought of Cammy telling Greg and Ric to not just cover the damages but renovate the whole building instead and the two eagerly agreeing.

"I feel so embarrassed about everything that happened," Cammy admitted. "I’m really sorry. I had no idea things would turn out like this. I promise to replace your dining table and sofa with something much better."

"That’s alright, dear," Mr. Moore replied reassuringly. "The furniture is old and due for replacement anyway. We trust you can handle it. It’s just unfortunate you’ll have to clean so much again after all the work you already put in before moving in—and you’ll need to repair some of the damage as well."

"That’s no problem, Mr. Moore," Cammy said earnestly. "I promise to take care of everything. This place will look even better than before. Please, go back to your shop—I’ll handle all of this myself. There’s no need for either of you to help."

She turned to Eve. "You too, Eve. Please get back to your tasks. I’d prefer to take care of this alone. It’ll keep me busy and help me avoid dwelling on how mad I am at those two." freeweɓnovel.cøm

Eve glanced at their landlord, who gave a subtle nod—a silent cue that it was best to leave Cammy alone for now. "Alright, we’ll go. But if you need help moving anything heavy, just call me, okay?"

"I will," Cammy replied with a small smile. "But don’t worry—there’s nothing heavy left. Everything heavy has already been smashed to bits."

Her casual remark made Eve and the landlords laugh, breaking some of the tension.

Once they had left, Cammy took one last look at the chaos before shaking her head. She headed to her bedroom, grabbed her phone, and snapped a picture of the disaster. With a sigh, she sent the photo to Ellie along with a message:

[Take a look at my apartment. A true masterpiece courtesy of Greg and Ric. Good thing my landlords are understanding—they even joked that the two idiots should cover the damages by renovating the whole building! I’ll fill you in tomorrow. For now, I need to tackle this mess.]

After sending her message to Ellie, Cammy spent a few moments scrolling through her phone before finally setting it aside and starting the cleanup. As she worked, she couldn’t help but sigh and shake her head repeatedly, all the while plotting the perfect way to make Greg and Ric pay for their antics.

**********

In Greg’s penthouse...

"What happened to you?" Harry asked, approaching the entrance as soon as he heard the elevator doors open.

Saturdays were usually reserved for him and Greg to hang out, enjoying activities they both liked—unless work or other plans got in the way. Harry had arrived early to suggest a round or two of golf, only to find the penthouse empty.

Curious, he checked the elevator’s CCTV feed—the only one Greg had given him access to—and spotted him leaving with Cammy, dressed in a shirt and sweatpants. With nothing else to do, Harry decided to wait. He made himself comfortable, helping himself to coffee and pancakes while he waited for Greg to return.

"Don’t ask..." Greg muttered, brushing past Harry and heading straight for the stairs.

"I saw you on the CCTV leaving with Cammy. Did she do this to you, or did you two get into an accident?" Harry pressed, sounding worried as he took in Greg’s battered appearance—bruises covering his face and small, bleeding cuts on his body.

"Just leave me alone," Greg snapped, continuing his march toward his bedroom.

"How can I leave you alone when you look like this? Is Cammy okay? Just tell me she’s safe, and I’ll back off," Harry insisted, refusing to drop the matter.

"Yes, she’s physically fine, but her apartment isn’t," Greg finally admitted, pausing on the stairs. "I got into a fight with Ricardo Rossi. The bastard attacked me, and things escalated—we ended up trashing Cammy’s place. She’s probably furious. No, furious doesn’t even cover it. She couldn’t even look at us when her landlord threw us out." With that, Greg disappeared into his room.

"Interesting..." Harry muttered to himself, rubbing his hands together with an amused grin.

After a quick shower and tending to his cuts and bruises, Greg joined Harry at the kitchen island for breakfast.

Harry quickly slid a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes toward Greg. "Damn, that must have been one hell of a fight for you to end up looking like this," he remarked, studying Greg’s battered face.

"It was," Greg admitted, shaking his head. "But trust me, he didn’t get off easy. I’m sure his injuries are just as bad, if not worse. He’s strong, I’ll give him that—but reckless and stupid. He doesn’t use his brain at all."

"How did it escalate to that?" Harry started, then smirked. "On second thought, don’t bother answering. I think I already know, considering you left last night with Cammy wearing a proper shirt and just now came back shirtless."

Greg sighed. "We forgot to lock the front door last night, and that idiot had the nerve to just waltz into Cammy’s apartment uninvited, no knocking, nothing. He saw me in the kitchen, shirtless, cooking breakfast—and then he attacked me."

"Hm... I wonder what his relationship with Cammy is," Harry mused. "I mean, if he felt comfortable enough to just walk into her place like that, it must mean they’re pretty close, right?"

Greg froze mid-bite, his fork hovering in the air as Harry’s words sank in. He was right...

A sudden wave of anger surged through Greg, boiling over faster than usual—a rare reaction for him.

Harry immediately noticed the shift. Greg was never the type to get worked up over another man showing interest in a woman he was involved with. He’d typically shrug it off and move on to someone else without a second thought.

"Man, are you okay? Your face is bright red!" Harry exclaimed, eyeing him with concern.

"Damn that bastard!" Greg shouted, standing abruptly as he pulled his phone from his pocket. He dialed a number several times, only for it to go unanswered.

"FUCK! She’s not picking up!"

"Who? Are you trying to call Cammy?" Harry asked, clearly confused.

"Of course! Who else?!" Greg snapped.

"Dude, calm down. What’s gotten into you? If he wants her, let him have her. Just move on—find someone else. You already slept with her anyway—whoa!"

Harry’s words were cut short as Greg yanked him out of his chair, his fist clenched under Harry’s chin.

"What the hell did you just say?" Greg growled, grabbing Harry’s shirt and pulling him close, his furious gaze inches from Harry’s face.