Chapter 165

Arlo was beginning to question everything he knew.

Just then, Helena stepped out of the elevator. "Dinner's ready," she announced. "Camille has already gone down with Chloe. Why are you two still up here? Come join us."

The words snapped Arlo back to reality. "Right. Coming."

Damien rose beside him.

Downstairs, Chloe was curled up on the sofa, chatting animatedly with Camille, who listened with quiet attention. The scene radiated maternal warmth.

Yet knowing Camille had surrendered custody without protest made the moment feel disturbingly artificial.

Unaware of the divorce, Helena smiled at them. "Camille, Chloe, come eat."

"Okay," they responded in unison.

Chloe grabbed Camille's hand, leading her toward the dining room with childish enthusiasm.

Arlo watched silently before taking his seat beside Damien. Camille settled next to Chloe.

Helena beamed at Arlo. "It's been too long since your last visit. I had the kitchen prepare your favorites—you'd better eat well tonight."

Arlo flashed a grin. "Don't worry, Grandma. I plan to devour everything."

Helena chuckled while Camille meticulously removed fish bones for Chloe.

Superficially, nothing seemed amiss.

But—

Arlo couldn't shake his unease.

Noticing his stare, Camille shot him an icy glare that froze him mid-thought.

Before, despite Damien, Tristan and himself forming an impenetrable trio, Camille had persistently tried to ingratiate herself—awkward but determined, always greeting them with forced smiles.

Now her eyes held nothing but detached indifference. The realization hit him—her demeanor toward Chloe had shifted too.

Outwardly attentive, but the deep maternal warmth was gone. Only clinical precision remained.

He understood her coldness toward him—no one keeps courting rejection. But her own daughter? Impossible.

This had to be another scheme. Some reverse psychology play to recapture Damien's attention.

Glancing at Damien confirmed his theory—the man was watching Camille with unprecedented focus. The old Damien would never.

Arlo smirked. Just as he suspected.

Helena cleared her throat sharply. "Arlo, what exactly are you staring at?" Her frown indicated she'd noticed his lingering gaze.

Quickly, Arlo fed her the explanation she wanted to hear: "Camille's unusually quiet tonight. Not even speaking to Damien like before. I found it strange."