Page 154 of Theirs to Ruin

I’d been distracted by everything that had been going on with Kage’s injury, Ty’s broodiness, school, and asking about Ava. But now I needed to show Dante that his bullshit reasons for pushing me away weren’t going to sway me.

He’d been the one to tell me to take what I wanted. He’d been the first, along with Kage, to make me believe that was possible.

Soon, I was going to face Dante. Either I’d convince him to give us a chance or I would sever the tie between us on my own terms.

Chapter 63

Camille

Ilooked at myself in my bedroom mirror and smoothed out the fabric of my dress, an elegant piece that I hope struck the right balance between sophisticated and approachable. I was putting on my mascara when my phone buzzed. It was a text from Dad, saying he'd arrived and was waiting at the chemistry building.

I stepped out of my room and headed downstairs. Kage stood in the living room dressed in a crisp shirt and well-tailored trousers. I hadn't expected him to be waiting for me.

"You look perfect.”

I faked a confident smile. "I have to be. It's for Dad."

He walked up to me and gently put his hands on my waist. "The day will go great. And if shit goes south, or if you just need to vent, just text me.”

I nodded even though I knew I wouldn’t. Kage would be busy with his own family.

Together we walked onto campus, splitting up at the path that would take me to the chemistry building and him to theadmin office. Before he left, Kage kissed me. "Remember, you got this," he murmured.

“Thanks.”

When I got close to the chemistry building, I took a deep breath and adjusted my dress again. Everywhere I looked was a flurry of activity. The trees that dotted the university grounds had lost a lot of leaves but those that remained glowed like fire.

To the right, I noticed the Petrov family. Sergei Petrov, with his silver beard and hawkish eyes, was holding court as his children and their friends gathered around him. His youngest daughter, Liza, seemed on the verge of tears.

To my left, I saw the Conway twins with their parents, who looked overjoyed to be reunited with their kids. While I was happy for them, I couldn’t deny how envious I felt.

Then there was the Rodriguez clan. Juan Rodriguez, head of the South American cartel, was surrounded by his four kids. They glared at a family nearby, who I knew the Rodriguez family had history with. The tension between them was thick. One wrong move, one wrong word, and it seemed like a full-blown war could erupt.

I glanced at the time on my phone. Where was Dad?

Just as I was about to call him, I saw him walking toward me, flanked by his ever-present bodyguard Gus and his aide Georgia. I got the message. This wasn’t going to be a cherished father-daughter day, but business as usual.

Only when I stepped toward him, he beamed at me. "Camille. You look lovely today."

I blinked in surprise. Compliments from him were rare. "Thank you," I managed to say.

His gaze traveled over the crowds and then settled back on me. "Quite the turnout. I remember my first family day with Bianca. It was an even bigger circus.”

I just made a non-committal noise.

Dad gave me a contemplative look then his features softened. "I'm glad things are better for you, at least that’s what the dean has told me. Is it true?”

I stared at him, reading between the lines. It wasn't an explicit reference to Ava’s death and the subsequent bullying I’d suffered, but it was enough. “Yes, things are better.”

“Good.” He held out his arm for me, which I took. “Let’s say hi to some of our friends,” he said.

Reluctantly, I walked with him through campus, with Gus and Georgia trailing behind us. I wished we could head out someplace quiet, just the two of us. But to my surprise, my father did his best to make small talk with me. Slowly, I started to relax.

At some point, we caught sight of the DiMarco family. Their matriarch, Roberta DiMarco, was a formidable woman that made powerful men whisper her name. Today, however, she was all smiles. Her eyes lit up when they landed on my father.

"Congressman!" she said, her voice dripping with warmth.

"Roberta," my father responded with an easy smile, pulling her into a brief, courteous embrace. “You remember my daughter, Camille, don’t you?”

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