Chapter 39

Felix Valen stormed out of NovaSight Labs headquarters and immediately dialed Selene Lancaster's number.

"Camille Hartwell joined NovaSight Labs?" His voice was laced with disbelief.

Selene's response was icy. "Hmm. Didn't you know?"

Felix had assumed Selene orchestrated Camille's recruitment. Clearly, he was wrong.

"No." Selene's tone turned sharp. She'd believed Gabriel Ashcroft refused to hire Camille out of spite. Now she wondered if Camille had left Calder Group entirely.

Felix's breath hitched. "Then what was this 'personal reason' you mentioned?"

"Just some unfinished business between us." Selene's evasion was deliberate.

"But—"

"What's the problem?" Selene snapped.

The realization hit Felix like a freight train. His resignation had nothing to do with Selene. "How qualified is Camille anyway? Rumor says she never completed her doctorate."

Selene's laugh was cruel. "She doesn't even have a master's degree. Just an undergraduate diploma."

"What?" Felix nearly dropped his phone.

"Exactly." Selene's voice dripped with disdain.

The revelation stunned her too. Camille leaving Calder Group was one thing. But skipping higher education to jump companies? It showed staggering lack of ambition.

Felix regrouped. "Selene, what's your next move?"

"Training season starts next week. Work can wait." Her focus was absolute.

Felix exhaled. Of course. Selene always compartmentalized perfectly. Somehow she balanced professional chess, equestrian sports, and corporate warfare without breaking stride.

Her ruthless efficiency was what set her apart. If Selene chose this path, she'd already calculated every variable.

Meanwhile, in Calder Group's executive suite, Damien Harrington barely glanced up from his documents. "Coffee, Colin."

"Right away, Mr. Harrington."

Phoebe Carver's hands trembled as she prepared the brew. Following Camille's meticulous instructions, she measured each component with surgical precision. Colin delivered the cup without comment.

Damien stirred absently, then froze. The aroma was wrong.

One sip confirmed it. He slammed the cup down. "Again."

Colin blinked. "Sir?"

Phoebe panicked when the order came. "Another one? The sugar was exact! The temperature—"

"I don't know," Colin admitted.

Her second attempt fared worse. Damien rejected it by scent alone.

"What's happening here?" Damien's voice could frost glass.

Colin swallowed. "First attempt jitters. Temperature control issues."

Damien's gaze sharpened. "Phoebe? Where's Camille?"

The silence stretched. "She resigned. Last Thursday."

Damien's expression didn't change. He'd known about Colin's complaints, the threatened termination. But this?

He nodded once. Camille would be back. She always came back.