Page 53 of Theirs to Rule

Was it possible Kage or Dante had done it to ensure Camille stayed away from me? But that was bullshit. I accomplished that all by myself, and they wouldn't hurt Camille that way.

The questions circled in my head, each one more unsettling than the last. The realization that someone was still out there targeting Camille, mimicking my artistic style to do it, set off alarms in my head.

Was it a new enemy? Or someone who knew of our history in Italy? Could it be the person who'd left that painting was the person who’d poisoned my family? And now they wanted Camille,my Camille, dead.

Chapter 24

Camille

Back at the chateau, I started packing the last of my stuff into boxes. Despite the agreement I'd made with Kage, I wouldn't stay a moment longer in this house with Ty. The idea of sharing the same air as him after what he’d done was unbearable. I pulled up my Uber app and ordered a ride to take me to Dante’s. I'd come back for my stuff with Dante tomorrow.

The sound of the front door opening and closing echoed through the otherwise-silent house. My heart skipped, hoping Kage was checking up on me after what had happened between us earlier.

"Camille!"

Ty's voice smashed my hopes to smithereens.

I shut my door and locked it but now I was trapped here. Shit.

Ty pounded on the door. “Camille, I didn’t paint that fucking swan.”

The urgency in his voice almost had me until I remembered all the shit he’d pulled since he’d been back. Why the hell would I believe him now?

“Bullshit,” I replied. “You think I don’t know your artwork? And it was signed MS just like your other pieces.”

“The bloody swan painting wasn’t mine. Someone planted it there.”

“That’s the best you’ve got?”

“I’m telling you the truth. Open the door."

"No."

"Fucking open the door or I'm busting it down."

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh, baby. You still have so much to learn about me."

His weight slammed against the door, and I quickly backed away. Before I knew it, he'd broken through, the wood frame splintered.

"God, you're an asshole," I screamed as he stepped inside.

“Exactly. I’ve been an asshole to you since the second I got here—to yourface. Why wouldn’t I own up to the painting if I'd done it?"

“Because you saw my reaction and realized you’d taken it too far. Because somewhere inside that hollow heart of yours is a fucking conscience and now you feel bad.” I threw up my hands in frustration. “Or who knows? Maybe you’re trying to lure me into a false sense of security so you can do something even worse to me.”

“Worse like hold you down and kiss you? Oh right. Already did that tonight.”

I glared at him, my body tingling at the memory. When his lips had met mine, all I could think about was fucking him—not that I’d ever admit it.

“I hated it. It was the worst kiss of my life.”

“Liar. We both know you were into it as much as I was. You just got scared that I was seeing you for who you really are. A bad girl trying to play nice.”

“Fuck you.”

“You seem to be saying that a lot, my sweet swan. Is that what you want? To fuck me? Does bad Camille want to show me what a dirty girl she can be?”

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