Chapter 134

Tristan Rutherford seemed to sense Camille Hartwell's hesitation. "I can assure you," he said firmly, "personal matters will never affect business dealings between me and your uncle."

Camille studied his face. "You're certain about this?"

"Absolutely."

She knew Owen Hartwell's company was struggling. After a brief pause, she nodded. "Alright then."

"Just tell me when you're available," Tristan said. "I'll arrange the meeting."

"Fine," Camille agreed.

The night breeze ruffled her dark hair as Tristan glanced at her. "It's getting cold. You should go inside."

The words struck her - identical to what Damien Harrington had said earlier that evening.

She gave a curt nod and slid into her car without another word.

Tristan remained standing there.

As she drove past him, Camille lowered her window just enough to acknowledge him with a brief nod before accelerating away.

He watched until her taillights disappeared before entering his own vehicle.

Back at the Hartwell estate, Marianne, Owen, and Talia were still awake, though Noah and Isaac had retired upstairs.

"You're back," Marianne observed as Camille entered.

"Yes." Seeing her grandmother's outstretched hand, Camille set down her purse and joined her on the sofa. Marianne clasped her granddaughter's hands. "Camille, have you... moved on from Damien?"

Her demeanor toward him tonight had been markedly different. The change was impossible to miss. "Yes," Camille confirmed. "We're proceeding with the divorce."

Marianne's face lit up. "Good. That's very good."

But then concern creased her brow. "Chloe's quite attached to him, and truthfully, he's been wonderful with her these past two years. He won't relinquish custody easily. This could be—"

Camille had no intention of fighting for custody. But she kept that to herself.

"I understand," she said instead. "We'll discuss it properly. It's late—everyone should rest."

While the others retired, Camille's night was far from over.

Graham Bellamy and Gabriel Ashcroft had been debating various topics during their ride home. By the time Camille reached her room, Gabriel had already sent her a detailed task list.

His message read: For the professor. Deadline: 6 AM tomorrow.

Camille took a sip of water before responding: Understood.

Without bothering to remove her makeup or shower, she immediately booted up her laptop and began working.

At precisely 4:17 AM, she sent the completed files.

Gabriel, also buried in work, responded moments later: Professor wants us at his office before nine.

Acknowledged, Camille typed back.

No further conversation ensued.

After shutting down her computer, she finally attended to her neglected skincare routine.

By the time she finished showering, the clock showed 5:23 AM.

She set a three-hour alarm before finally turning off the lights.

When the alarm jarred her awake, every muscle protested. But she forced herself up and into the shower.

Her exhaustion was evident when she descended the stairs.

Marianne frowned. "You should sleep longer."

"Can't. Meeting with Professor Bellamy."

Knowing Graham's exacting standards, Marianne simply said, "You shouldn't drive in this state. Take the chauffeur."

Camille nodded.

At Graham's villa, the three immediately sequestered themselves in his study and began working.