My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 95: Let Me Carry You (2)

Greg didn’t miss a beat. "Of course. I was there supporting Dylan and accompanying my girlfriend to the game," he said, emphasizing the last part with a knowing glance.

Cammy had had enough. "Can you all just be quiet?" she nearly shouted, her frustration spilling over. "All your voices are stressing me out! I just want to wait for the operation to be over in peace and silence. Is that too much to ask?"

The hallway fell into an awkward silence as the three men exchanged glances, before reluctantly backing down.

The three men pressed their lips together, choosing to stay silent. Ric moved to sit beside Cammy, but before he could, she raised a hand to stop him.

"No, Ric. Please sit somewhere else," she said, her voice firm but weary. "I just... I need to be alone."

Ric hesitated for a moment before giving a small nod. Without another word, he took a seat on the opposite bench. The waiting area remained tense, filled only with the sound of footsteps echoing in the hallway as they all sat in heavy silence, waiting for news of Dylan’s operation.

After what felt like an eternity, the double doors finally swung open, and a doctor stepped out. Cammy shot up from her seat, rushing forward with desperate urgency.

"How is Dylan? Is my son okay? What about his leg? How did the surgery go?" she asked, her words tumbling over each other in anxious desperation.

The doctor let out a small smirk at the rapid-fire questioning. "I take it you’re the mother?" he asked, and Cammy quickly nodded.

"The operation was a success," he reassured her. "The fracture was clean, which made the procedure much more manageable. We removed a few small bone fragments and inserted some pins to stabilize the area, ensuring a quicker recovery. Fortunately, there was no severe damage, so with proper care, he should heal well."

Cammy exhaled sharply, releasing the breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. The crushing weight of fear that had been gripping her chest finally began to ease.

As soon as the doctor left, Cammy slumped back onto the bench, feeling the weight of exhaustion finally crash over her. Her hands trembled as she placed them on her lap, her breath unsteady. Relief flooded her system now that Dylan was out of danger, but the worry still clung to her like a heavy cloak.

Just then, a nurse approached with a clipboard in hand. "Who among you are Dylan Veston’s parents? I need some documents signed for his transfer to a private room," she informed them politely.

Cammy immediately moved to stand, but before she could take a step, Duncan reached out and gently grasped her arm.

"Take a rest," he said, his tone softer than usual. "I’ll handle the paperwork and everything else."

Cammy looked at him, taken aback. This wasn’t like him. Duncan was never the type to take charge in moments like these—at least, not for her sake. A frown tugged at her lips as suspicion crept into her mind.

Turning his attention back to the nurse, Duncan straightened his posture. "I’m his father. Could you tell me which room my son has been assigned to? That way, my wife and mother-in-law can head there to rest."

Cammy stiffened at his words. ’Wife?’ The term felt foreign, almost misplaced, coming from him now.

The nurse quickly skimmed through her paperwork before responding, "Room 808, VIP area. We’ll be transferring him shortly."

Cammy swallowed hard, her emotions tangled in a mix of relief, unease, and lingering exhaustion.

"Mom, take Cammy to Dylan’s room. I’ll catch up with you later," Duncan said, his voice unusually calm. As he spoke, he pulled out his phone and quickly typed a message before striding off after the nurse.

Cammy, Monica, Greg, and Ric made their way to the VIP area, but the moment they reached Room 808, they were met with an unexpected sight—four men with imposing, athletic builds standing guard outside the door. Their expressions were unreadable, their presence exuding authority.

As Cammy and Monica approached, the guards wordlessly stepped aside to let them through. But when Greg and Ric attempted to follow, two of the men immediately blocked their path.

"Hey! What’s going on here? And who the hell are you?" Cammy demanded, irritation obvious in her voice.

One of the guards responded in a firm but respectful tone, "We were given strict instructions by Mr. Veston to secure this room. These two gentlemen are not permitted to enter."

Cammy clenched her fists, a wave of frustration washing over her. She turned to Greg, offering an apologetic sigh. "I’m really sorry about this. Just wait for me in the lounge, okay? I’ll check the room and come back to you soon."

Then, shifting her gaze to Ric, she softened her expression. "As for you, Ric, thank you for coming, but you don’t have to stay. Everything’s fine now. Please go back to work—I’ll text you updates."

Ric hesitated for a moment, studying Cammy’s tired face, before nodding. "Alright. I understand. I’ll send over dinner for you all, and I’ll prepare something nutritious for Dylan to help with his recovery."

Cammy gave him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ric."

Ric gave her one last lingering look before walking away. Cammy then turned to Greg, who still hadn’t moved from his spot.

"Are you sure you’ll be okay?" he asked, his voice gentle yet full of concern.

She forced a reassuring smile. "I will be. But you should go home and rest, too. I’m exhausted, and you must be as well. Just text me when you get home, okay?"

Greg studied her face for a moment, then nodded. Without another word, he pulled her into a warm embrace, holding her tightly for a few seconds before pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. "Take care, Cammy."

He then turned to Monica, giving her a polite nod before finally walking away.

The moment he was out of sight, Monica wasted no time—she grabbed Cammy’s arm and, without a word, dragged her into the VIP room. Her grip was firm and unyielding, that Cammy was not able to react fast to stop her mother.