Page 58 of Dr. Billionaire's Fake Marriage

"You look just like your father," Mr. Howard says, his wrinkled forehead forming a frown. I am unsure if I should take his words as a compliment.

"Thank you," I finally reply, From the way he curves his brows, I can tell he doesn't mean it as a compliment.

"I am sorry my parents made you leave your family behind-" I start to say, but Mr. Howard cuts me off.

“Get to the point, Troy.” he says. “What do you have to say to me.”

I lean on the table. "I want to propose something," I say. "I will get you the recognition you deserve in the hospital, shares, and a seat on the board of directors' table."

Mr. Howard leaned back in his chair, his hands folded across his chest. I have his attention already. "To get what in return?" he asks. "To avoid me going to the press about your family?"

"Nothing," I respond, but Mr. Howard has found my response funnier than I thought he would.

He laughs. "I don't believe it," he adds. "You see, nothing good comes from a Robinson, and I wish Camile knew that before marrying you."

I sigh. I find it insulting that Mr. Howard thinks I am not good enough for his daughter.

He doesn't believe I have anything to gain by giving him the recognition he deserves or a seat at the directors' table. Of course, I have something to gain.

If Mr. Howard becomes a shareholder in the company, it would give me the free license to go public about Camile. After all, she isn't just a mere doctor at the hospital; she is now the daughter of the hospital’s co-founder.

I lean back in my chair as Mr. Howard motions to leave. "Think about it, Mr. Howard," I say as I watch him go.

I find Camile making dinner as I get home. She is more excited about the dinner than I have seen about anything. She sings along to a Jon Bellion song, and she smiles when she sees me.

“What is the occasion?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she answers. “I just want to make us some spaghetti and sauce.”

“I spoke to your father today,” I say after a long silence. “I made him an offer at the hospital.”

Camile turns back to stir the sauce in the pot. "You don't have to do that," she says. "Everything that happens isn't your fault; it is your parents’.'"

"Yes, I know, and that is why I want to make things right with him and you," I respond, taking plates for both of us.

"You should talk to your father, you know," I add. "None of this was his fault; yes, it is all my parents’ fault."

She is silent as we arrange the meal on the table. "If I could see my father again, I'd do anything to do it."

Camile raises her head. I am not sure I can convince her to talk to her father, but her gaze sends chills down my spine.

Chapter twenty

A Night of Closure

Camile

Troy's words stay with me through the night. He said he'd give anything to have another day with his father; but here I am, throwing away every day I ought to have with him. I drive to the hotel where my father is staying while he is in town.

"Mr. Howard's room," I tell the receptionist, who asks my father if he will see me.

`"Room 226," the receptionist says as she drops the phone. I walk down the hallway on the second floor and knock on room 226. The door squeaks open.

My father’s hazel eyes drop on mine. He stays there for a while, smiling and wondering if he is dreaming.

"Camile!" My father says. "Come in." He opens his door for me. I look around the small room with nothing specific but a bed frame and mattress and a lamp on a table beside the bed. My father offers me the only chair in the room while he sits on the bed, looking at me with wonder.

I break the awkward silence. “I am sorry, Dad,” I say. “I didn’t know how to react to you showing up after all these years.”

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