Page 90 of Corrupting Camille
I grin. “Which one?”
She smacks my arm and kisses my cheek before I can dodge it. “Good. Because if you ghost me, I’m getting my revenge on TikTok. I’ve got your old mugshot saved in my drafts.”
Diego snorts into his drink. “She’s serious.”
“I know she is,” I mutter.
Lucía turns like a queen and storms back inside, muttering something about cake vendors and how if her cousins wear Crocs, she’s canceling the whole thing again.
Reina grins as she watches her go. “She loves you, you know.”
“More than she loves any of us,” Marisol adds, eyes flicking over to me with something warmer beneath the teasing. “Even though we helped plan the entire quince and paid for the glitter pen set.”
I exhale through my nose, watching the night settle in again.
“You’re good with her,” Reina says.
“She’s a menace,” I answer, but my voice is softer now.
“You need that,” Marisol says. “Reminds you that you’re still human.”
Diego leans back, cigar burning low. “They’re not wrong.”
I nod once.
Because maybe they’re not.
Maybe this chaos, this warmth, this wild, loud little family, they’re the last pieces of me worth saving.
Before I go back to tearing everything else apart.
***
The second the wheels kiss tarmac, I’m moving.
Phone in hand. Jaw locked. Skintight with that kind of static twitch you can’t shake. Not with a drink. Not with a fuck. Not even with a kill.
It’s Camille.
It’s always her.
The SUV door slams shut behind me and the engine hums like it knows I’m about to ruin someone’s night.
Joaquin:She’s confirmed. Ashby Estate. 8PM. Caldwell’s bringing her.
My grip tightens. The screen might crack from how hard I’m holding it.
Of fucking course.
She’s still playing house. Still putting on the good-girl mask, parading around like that two-dimensional politician beside her isn’t just another prison she’s locked herself in.
Like she hasn’t clawed her nails down my back while whispering things she’s never said to anyone.
Like she didn’t beg me to keep going the last time she came apart in my hands.
She’s trying to disappear.
Again.
