Chapter 40

"Then, Colin asked, What about the coffee—"

"Take it away. Just water for me."

"Understood."

At noon, Gabriel attended a charity luncheon while Camille ate alone in the corporate cafeteria. Her new colleagues maintained polite professionalism, keeping their distance. Camille didn't mind the solitude.

She returned to her workstation after lunch. By 5 PM, she approached Everett. "Mind reviewing this? I've nearly finished."

Everett blinked. He scanned the files she'd sent, confusion morphing into shock as he processed the content. His jaw slackened.

"You—completed this already?" This workload typically took Felix ten days. Yet Camille had not only deciphered it but perfected the assignment in under twenty-four hours.

Camille nodded.

Everett stared, speechless. Her solution wasn't just flawless—she'd conceptualized innovative approaches for his remaining tasks that he'd never considered.

The commotion drew other team members. One by one, they crowded around, their astonishment mirroring Everett's.

Regaining composure, Everett studied her. "Why aren't you pursuing a PhD?"

Camille hesitated. "I never applied."

The irony stung—a room full of Ivy League postgraduates outshone by an undergraduate.

"Financial constraints?"

But her designer handbag and impeccable work contradicted that theory.

Camille lowered her gaze. "Personal reasons." She offered a small smile. "Perhaps I'll reconsider graduate studies later."

After assisting several colleagues with their projects, Camille left at 7 PM.

Gabriel leaned against the lobby wall. "You obliterated their prejudices in one day. Earned their respect too. Not that I'm surprised."

Camille grinned. "My treat for dinner?"

"Isn't that why I'm waiting?"

They exited together. Twenty minutes later, as they ascended the restaurant staircase, a child barreled toward them.

Camille sidestepped, losing balance. Gabriel's arm snapped around her waist, steadying her.

She exhaled, preparing to thank him—then froze. Damien and Arlo stood ten feet away, watching. Arlo's eyebrows shot up; Damien's expression darkened.

Camille pushed Gabriel away abruptly.

"Twist your ankle?" Gabriel asked, oblivious to their audience.

"No."

"Good. Let's proceed."

She followed, deliberately avoiding Damien's gaze.

Arlo whistled. "That was your wife, right?"

Damien remained silent.

"Playing hard to get while cozying up to Gabriel? Bold strategy to regain your attention."

Damien's knuckles whitened around his glass. "Delusional."

"Let's go," Damien said coldly, turning on his heel.