Chapter 229: Ruined Ex Wife

"Expecting someone else?" he asked. "My uncle, perhaps?"

Her stomach dropped. "No. No, of course not."

"I’m sure you’ve been keeping track of how your entire life’s work is crumbling before your eyes." Dorian stepped farther into the penthouse, his gaze sweeping briefly over Camille before settling on her bruised face. "And might I add, before you even think about posting a picture of us in your penthouse to salvage whatever is left of your dignity, I will finish you in ways you cannot even begin to comprehend."

Dorian sounded colder.

Considering her public image was currently being dragged through every social media platform available to mankind, Camille knew exactly how much more damage he could do.

"Why are you here?" she demanded. "Haven’t you humiliated me enough? What have I done wrong? Love you?"

The sheer ability Camille possessed to take a disaster entirely of her own making and somehow cast herself as its tragic heroine was both impressive and irritating to him.

"You humiliated yourself." Dorian took another step toward her. "When did you start fucking Alistair?"

"I’m not fucking Alistair." She looked genuinely insulted now. "Why would you even think that?"

Dorian watched her carefully. He had come there looking for information, not another performance. Camille had spent too many years on camera for him to trust every shocked look or offended gasp that crossed her face.

Still, that reaction had seemed real. Anyways, whether she was sleeping with Alistair was no longer the most important question.

"I know about the mole you put in my office, Camille."

Her shoulders relaxed. Her expression smoothed itself out. Even her eyes seemed to lose their alarm as she lifted her chin. "What are you talking about?"

"I also found out Alistair helped you get her in. Ellison told me everything. I know everything about what you’ve done and what you planned," he continued calmly. "What I want to know is whether you intend to take this fall all by yourself or leave it at the feet of the person responsible."

"What?" She was trying to work out how much he truly knew and, more importantly, how much she could safely deny.

"I want to know everything." He moved farther into the living room, looking completely at ease in a penthouse he had no desire to be in. "And I promise you, I will talk to Naomi. I’ll see if she’ll calm down and take all of this off social media. I haven’t even told her about you putting Ellison in my office," Dorian added.

A lie he delivered without so much as blinking.

Camille stared at him, clearly trying to decide whether she believed him. Her entire life was online. Her endorsements. Naomi had spent only a few hours slowly dismantling that life, and Camille had already watched thousands of people turn against her. "What’s left?" she asked bitterly. "It’s all out there now."

Some of the fight left her voice.

"People will forget," he said. "You’ll be back to being in everyone’s face in no time."

"No. You have her take it all down first. Everything," Camille snapped. "You don’t give a damn what happens to me, and you won’t lift a finger to—"

Dorian stepped forward so quickly that she stopped. "Have I ever lied to you?!"

The force in his voice made her flinch.

"Our marriage was a disaster, yes. An absolute fucking disaster. But did I ever lie to you?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Was Alistair involved in hiring Mara Ellison?"

"It’s not so simple, Dorian." She folded her arms, suddenly uncomfortable. "It was my idea. He simply helped."

"So he knew?"

"Yes."

That was all he needed.

Dorian’s pulse kicked harder, but he refused to let any of it show on his face. He tilted his head. "Why would Alistair help you? What does he want from you?" He shook his head. "You know what? Never mind." He truly did not care.

If Alistair wanted to spend the rest of his life collecting Dorian’s former wives like some deeply disturbed hobby, he could help himself.

Dorian was done being wounded by it. He had spent too many years angry about Lillian.

Now?

He was happy. He had Naomi.

A woman he loved.

If Alistair wanted to fuck another one of his ex-wives, Dorian genuinely did not give a shit. That Chapter of his life was closed.

"Will you have Naomi take it all down?"

"I will talk to her. It’s all up to her."

"So all this while you knew she married you for your money."

Dorian’s face cooled instantly. "I owe you no explanations, Camille." He gave her one final look. "Have a nice day." He turned and walked out of the penthouse.

The elevator ride down was blessedly quiet. When Dorian stepped outside, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone then stopped the recording.

Camille had given him exactly what he needed.

Alistair knew. He had helped.

Dorian had proof now.

Camille had managed to do something helpful.

He reached his car and was just about to get in when a familiar voice came from behind him.

"Let this go, Dorian."

Dorian turned around instantly. "Never. You should never have messed with me in the first place."

Alistair stood a few feet away, his expression tense but controlled. "I did what I had to do to keep myself informed in a firm where I feel like an intruder."

Dorian gave a short, disbelieving laugh. "An intruder? Our actions have consequences, Uncle Alistair. You turned yourself into the outcast. We did nothing to you. You have blamed everyone except yourself. You betrayed this family over and over again. And now you want to stand there and act wounded because no one trusts you?"

Alistair’s eyes flashed. "Then let me tell you the consequences of not letting this go. Thirteen years ago, I helped keep a secret.

"Is this story time? Because I really am not interested."

"One question has always bugged you for over thirteen years. Why Lillian chose me. I will answer that question tonight."