My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 97: Obsession

"I don’t owe you an explanation, Duncan," Cammy said firmly. "We’re over. You have no right to question me about my choices." She turned away from him and faced her mother. "Mom, I’m heading downstairs to grab some drinks. What would you like?"

Monica, watching the tension unfold with amusement, leaned back on the couch and smirked. "A vanilla latte sounds good."

Cammy gave her a curt nod before turning back to Duncan. "By the time I return, I want those men outside gone. If they’re still there, I’ll have Dylan moved to another room. The only security detail allowed here is mine—not yours." Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her bag and walked out, leaving the air thick with unresolved tension.

Duncan’s jaw clenched as he watched her leave. His fists tightened at his sides, barely containing his anger.

A soft chuckle broke through the silence, making him snap his head toward Monica.

"Oh my," she mused, shaking her head with a teasing smile. "She’s furious. And from the looks of it, she’s completely set on divorcing you."

Duncan’s patience snapped. "I thought you were going to help me get her back!" he hissed with a voice that was low but sharp.

Monica simply shrugged. "I tried, dear. But it’s clear she’s made up her mind." Monica’s light and almost careless response only infuriated Duncan more.

"You promised me," he growled, his eyes dark with frustration.

Monica sighed, her amusement never fading. "Yes, I did. And I kept my word. But what do you expect me to do? Drag her back to your house kicking and screaming?" She tilted her head, studying him. "Cammy’s independent now. She’s not the same lovestruck girl you used to manipulate. And with powerful men backing her up, she won’t be easy to control anymore."

Duncan inhaled sharply, rubbing his temples as the weight of her words sank in. His pulse pounded against his skull as he spun on his heel. "You’re useless," he muttered under his breath before storming out of the room.

Monica didn’t flinch. Instead, a sly smile curved her lips as she watched him go.

"Oh, Duncan," she murmured to herself, shaking her head. "Let’s see what you do now. Your competition is fierce."

**********

As Cammy stepped onto the ground floor, she spotted Greg standing with Harry and her security team. She approached quietly, unnoticed.

"You’re still here..." she murmured, a sense of relief and warmth washing over her.

The men turned toward her, and Greg’s face immediately lit up with a smile. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"I needed some fresh air, and I didn’t want to be in the same room as Duncan. I was about to grab some coffee—do you want anything?"

Greg smirked at her thoughtfulness but shook his head. "I appreciate it, Cammy, but I can’t stay. Something came up at work. I was just giving them instructions before heading out. The guards Duncan hired won’t let them near the room, so I booked another one for Dylan—just in case you’d rather move."

For the first time since the accident, Cammy smiled. Seeing it filled Greg with relief and happiness. He had been so worried about how stressed she seemed earlier.

"You’ve read my mind," Cammy said with a small sigh. "But Greg, this is going to cost a lot. I already told Duncan to remove his guards, and I’m sure he’ll cancel the reservation while there’s still time."

Greg shook his head dismissively. "Don’t worry about the cost. This is part of our agreement, remember? And besides, this will send a clear message to Duncan—that you and Dylan don’t need him anymore." He paused before adding, "I also arranged for round-the-clock private nurses.

Plus, my maids will take turns staying with you in the room, so you won’t have to stress about anything except focusing on Dylan, which I know is your priority. Am I right?"

Cammy exhaled, feeling a weight lift off her shoulders. "Yes," she admitted. "That’s exactly what I’d prefer."

"Alright, I have to go. Your security will escort you back to the room. I’ll drop by tomorrow."

Before Cammy could respond, Greg leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. She stiffened, caught completely off guard as he turned and walked away.

’What the heck? There’s no need to keep up the act when there’s no one to see,’ she thought, her heart pounding faster than she wanted to admit.

Meanwhile, as Greg and Harry made their way to the parking lot, Greg caught the subtle smirk on Harry’s face. "You look amused," he remarked, narrowing his eyes at his friend.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "I just find it funny. Your acting is very convincing."

Greg stopped in his tracks and looked at him. "I’m not acting, Harry."

Harry’s smile faltered, his brows furrowing in surprise. "Wait... you’re not? So you really are in love with her?" He paused, eyes searching Greg’s face for answers. "But you said this was just about revenge... You said you were only using her. I am officially confused, I don’t understand you anymore!"

Greg didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he exhaled sharply and slid into the passenger seat of his car.

Harry got into the driver’s seat, still reeling from Greg’s words. "Greg... tell me you haven’t actually fallen for her."

But Greg remained silent, staring out the window as the weight of his own feelings settled deep in his chest.

Greg leaned his elbow against the car window, staring out into the distance, the weight of his emotions heavy in his voice as he spoke. "I don’t know, Harry. Maybe it’s love... maybe it’s just lust.

Honestly, I can’t even tell the difference anymore. All I know is that I need her. Not just her body, but everything. Her attention, her time, her focus on me, and no one else.

Every time I see her talking to Ric or Duncan, something inside me burns. My blood boils, and I want to hurt them. And if Duncan even dares to hurt her again, I won’t hesitate to end him. What’s worse is, I don’t want to lose her. Not to them. Not to anyone."

Harry glanced over at him, his expression shifting to something a bit more uneasy. "Damn, man. That’s... pretty dark. Honestly, it sounds less like love and more like obsession."

Greg turned his gaze to Harry, his mind reeling with the weight of his friend’s words. He didn’t respond immediately, just sat there, lost in thought, silently questioning himself: ’Am I?’