Chapter 278

The afternoon sun cast golden streaks across the pavement as Camille Hartwell and her daughter Chloe strolled past a neon-lit arcade. Chloe's eyes sparkled with excitement—it had been forever since she'd played games with her mother. Without warning, she tugged Camille inside.

Arcades weren't new to Chloe, but doing this with Camille made it magical. Every laugh, every high score felt like a treasure.

Later that evening, Camille had dinner plans with Marcus Mercer.

As they exited the arcade, she considered dropping Chloe off first.

But Chloe clung to her hand, lips pursed in protest. "Can't I come with you?"

Camille hesitated.

It was just a casual meal—nothing formal.

Bringing Chloe shouldn’t be an issue.

She dialed Marcus. "Mind if I bring my daughter along?"

Marcus chuckled. "Of course not. The more, the merrier." A pause. "Yours?"

"Yes."

Surprise flickered in his voice.

Last time they met, she’d mentioned being married—but he hadn’t pictured someone so youthful already a mother.

Half an hour later, Camille arrived at the private dining room, Chloe’s small hand in hers.

Marcus stood as they entered. His gaze softened at the sight of the little girl. "Camille, this must be your daughter. She has your smile."

Camille nodded.

"What’s her name?"

"Chloe Harrington."

"Harrington?"

Marcus froze.

Something about Chloe struck him as familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

Then it hit him—New Year's Eve. The Calders. The little girl holding Damien Harrington's hand had been Chloe.

His eyes widened. "Your husband is Damien?"

Camille confirmed with a quiet nod.

Marcus was speechless.

When she’d first mentioned marriage, he’d wondered why someone like her had settled so young.

Few could match her brilliance.

But if it was Damien…

Well, in terms of status, intellect, and influence, he was perhaps the only equal in their world.

Marcus smiled faintly—but then remembered the distant look in Camille’s eyes when she spoke of her marriage.

And New Year’s Eve—she hadn’t been with the Harringtons.

This wasn’t just tension. The rift between her and Damien ran deeper than he’d realized.

He gestured for them to sit and slid two gift boxes across the table.

Camille instinctively declined, but Marcus insisted. "Just a small tradition. Take it."

Reluctantly, she accepted. "Thank you, Mr. Mercer."

She nudged Chloe. "Say thank you."

Chloe beamed. "Thank you, Mr. Mercer!"

"You’re welcome."

Marcus studied her features. "She favors Damien more, doesn’t she?"

"She does."

He grinned. "With parents like you two, she’ll turn out extraordinary either way."

Camille’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Marcus leaned in. "Has my stubborn son made peace with you yet?"

She shook her head. "If anything, it’s worse."

Marcus laughed outright. "Good."

"He’s had it too easy. A little humility will do him good. Frankly, I’m looking forward to it."

Their conversation drifted to lighter topics.

Dinner stretched into an hour of lingering chatter before they finally parted ways.

The next few days, Camille buried herself in research materials Graham Bellamy had sent.

Chloe, ever patient, entertained herself—occasionally joining Silas and Noah for outings but mostly staying close.

She still video-called Damien daily.

And more often than not, Selene Lancaster was beside him.

Camille didn’t eavesdrop, but Chloe knew her feelings. Whenever Selene appeared, she’d take the tablet outside.

After three days of relentless focus, Camille finally had a breakthrough.

Her thoughts crystallized—the solution was clear.

She worked from dawn till dusk, barely registering when Talia called her for lunch.

Seeing her untouched meal, Chloe frowned. "Mom, eat first."

Camille mumbled a reply, eyes glued to the screen.

Chloe tried again. No response.

Only after multiple attempts did Camille finally pause to eat.

Night fell, and the pattern repeated.

Camille was so absorbed she skipped dinner entirely. Chloe, needing help with her bath, gave up and sought Noah instead.

By the time Chloe returned, freshly bathed, Camille was still typing furiously.

She climbed into bed alone and drifted off.

Morning light filtered through the curtains when Chloe stirred. Rubbing her eyes, she found Camille still at her desk.

"Mom… did you sleep at all?"

"Don’t worry about me," Camille murmured absently.

Chloe bit her lip.

She’d slept and woken—yet her mother hadn’t moved.

"Aren’t you tired?"

A distracted hum was her only answer.

Not wanting to disturb her further, Chloe tiptoed away to wash up.