Page 8 of Depraved Temptation

"Lila," she continues, softer now, "I've watched you fight your way up from nothing. You've built a life for yourself out of sheer determination and hard work. I just don't want to see you get hurt or lose everything you've worked for because of a fleeting passion."

A lump forms in my throat. "Mom, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But I'm not that naive fifteen-year-old anymore. I've learned to stand my ground, to make choices and live with them. I know what I'm doing."

She gives me a long, searching look. "Just remember where you come from, Lila. Remember the sacrifices we made and the challenges we faced. You've built something amazing for yourself, and I couldn't be prouder. I just want you to protect it. Protect yourself."

Tears sting my eyes, her words resonating deep within me. "I know, Mom. It's just... complicated."

A heavy, insistent knock on the door interrupts our conversation. Without waiting for an invitation, the door crashes open, revealing a disheveled Cameron, his hair unkempt and the stench of alcohol wafting from him.

"What is this? A family meeting without me?" Cameron's voice is venomous, almost biting.

"Cam," I say cautiously, my heart pounding. This isn't the smooth, put-together Cameron I once knew; this is someone darker, more volatile.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Mom's voice is icy, her protective instincts immediately up.

Ignoring her entirely, Cameron staggers into my living room and practically throws himself onto my sofa.

"Why are you here like this?" I ask, warily approaching him.

His red, angry eyes flick up to meet mine. "Everything's gone to hell, Lila," he growls, his words thick with bitterness rather than defeat.

"Do you want some water?" Mom asks, her voice a mix of irritation and concern.

"Do I look like I want water?" he snarls but then reluctantly nods.

She hands him a glass of water, which Cameron sips at distractedly before speaking. "Dad and I are at war. Since Mom... and now with whatever else is going on... It's like I don't even know him."

My eyes dart to Mom's, both of us weighed down by the realization that my secret relationship with Alexander might be affecting Cameron's already fragile relationship with his father.

"Every time I try to confront him, I hit a wall. Something's changed between us, and don't think I don't know you're part of it," Cameron glares at me, his anger now focused and direct.

Despite her obvious reservations about Cameron, my mother steps in, her voice more stern than comforting. "Cameron, you need to sort yourself out."

"I don't need platitudes, especially not from you," he snaps at her, then turns his glare back to me. "Something's going on here. Don't think you can keep secrets from me, Lila."

The tension in the room is almost unbearable. Cameron's anger, though misdirected, adds another layer of complication to my already complex relationship with Alexander.

"Look at what this family's drama is doing to him," Mom whispers to me, her words barely audible. "Do you think you can really come out of this unscathed?"

My gaze shifts from Cameron's seething face to my mother's concerned one, and I'm torn. The last thing I want is to add fuel to the fire, but my growing involvement with Alexander seems to be doing just that. The room is saturated with hostility, and though I wish it were different, I know that each of us is entangled in a web that's becoming increasingly difficult to escape.

"You and my dad," he slurs, his voice thick with anger and maybe something else—jealousy? "Someone said they saw you together."

My heart skips a beat. "Cameron," I start, trying to keep my voice steady, "it's not what you think."

He laughs bitterly. "Isn't it? Why does everyone always think I'm blind?"

“Cameron, please," I plead, "let me call you a cab. We can talk about this later, when you're clear-headed."

He seems to ponder my words, swaying slightly on the spot. Eventually, he nods. "Fine. But this isn't over, Lila."

I watch as he stumbles out, my mother close behind, ensuring he gets into the waiting car safely. She returns, her face etched with worry.

"Lila," she begins, each word deliberate and heavy, "you may think that you're in control, that you know what you're doing, but sometimes we get so lost in the storm that we don't realize the danger until it's too late."

I look up, meeting her eyes. "Mom, I—"

She interrupts, holding up a hand. "I've seen this before, sweetheart. I've seen friends lose themselves in love, especially one as forbidden as this. And it rarely ends well."

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