<h4>Chapter 93: Twisted Together</h4>


    "Mom..."


    Cammy’s face drained of color as she watched her mother approaching—with Duncan right beside her.


    But she wasn’t the only one caught off guard. Monica came to an abrupt stop, her gaze narrowing in surprise as Greg casually draped an arm around Cammy’s shoulders and pulled her close.


    Cammy’s body tensed. She had no idea how to react or what to do next.


    Greg, however, was already steps ahead. He had done his homework. He knew exactly who Monica was and had anticipated this moment. Without hesitation, he took a few confident strides toward them, gently guiding Cammy along with him.


    Closing the gap, he extended his hand toward Monica with aposed, almost charming smile.


    "What a lovely day to finally meet you. I’m Gregory Cross—Cammy’s boyfriend."


    Greg’s introduction sent shock rippling across Monica’s face. Her mouth parted slightly, betraying her surprise, but she quickly schooled her expression back into one ofposed elegance. Ever the poised woman, she extended her hand to him, though there was a flicker of curiosity in her eyes.


    Greg epted it smoothly, lifting her hand just slightly as he inclined his head in a small, courteous bow. His smile was effortless, charismatic, and unwavering as he met her gaze.


    "I must say, you look even more stunning in person," he remarked, his voice warm yet deliberate. "If I hadn’t seen your photos before, I would have mistaken you for Cammy’s sister... or perhaps her cousin."


    Just as he had anticipated, Monica’s features softened at his ttery. A faint blush colored her cheeks, and she let out a delicate, pleased chuckle, covering her mouth in a way that exuded both amusement and vanity.


    Duncan, standing beside her, let out an unimpressed scoff. "You don’t have to waste your breath trying to sweet-talk my mother-inw. She’s not naive enough to fall for your nonsense."


    Greg didn’t even spare him a nce. Instead, he held Monica’s gaze and smirked. "Oh? Is that so?" he mused, challenging Duncan indirectly.


    Then, as if Duncan’s words had given him an idea, Greg turned his full attention back to Monica. "Well then, that just means we need more time to get to know each other properly. How about I host you at my mansion tomorrow?" he offered smoothly.


    The air between them thickened with tension. Cammy stiffened beside Greg, gripping his sleeve subtly as if silently asking what the hell he was doing. Duncan’s jaw tightened, his irritation visible. But Monica? She hesitated for only a second before her lips curled into a pleased smile, the idea clearly appealing to her.


    And just like that, Greg knew he had yed his first move perfectly.


    "Did you say yourst name is Cross? Do you work for Cross Holdings?" Monica asked, narrowing her eyes.


    "I’m not that Cross. I own Cross Tech Group of Companies," Greg rified.


    Monica frowned. "I’m confused. Didn’t you just say you’re my daughter’s boyfriend?"


    "Yes, and I n to marry her," Greg added with a smirk, further deepening Monica’s confusion.


    Cammy groaned internally and facepalmed. She hadn’t expected Greg to move this fast. She thought he’d break the news to her mother over dinner or in a more formal setting—but no, he had just decided to drop the bomb right then and there.


    Monica’s gaze snapped to Cammy, her expression livid. "Cami? Care to exin?"


    Before Cammy could respond, the game facilitator’s voice echoed through the field, announcing the start of the match and instructing everyone to take their seats.


    "Mom, can we talk after the game, please?" Cammy pleaded.


    Monica remained silent, pressing her lips into a thin line before giving a small nod. If there was one thing Cammy appreciated about her mother, it was her ability to maintainposure in public, no matter how furious she was.


    With no other seats avable, the four of them ended up sitting together in awkward silence. No one spoke as the game began.


    Cammy let out a deep sigh as Duncan and Greg quickly turned the match into their own personalpetition—each trying to out-cheer the other for Dn.


    ’Oh God, this was a terrible decision,’ Cammy groaned internally, feeling her embarrassment grow with every passing second. She leaned back in her seat, subtly covering part of her face in an attempt to shield herself from the judgmental stares of those around them.


    Her mortification, however, was short-lived when the game was suddenly brought to an unexpected halt.


    "Oh no, Dn!" Monica gasped in panic, immediately drawing Cammy’s attention.


    Before Cammy could process what was happening, she noticed Duncan and Greg bolt from their seats, sprinting toward the cluster of yers gathered at the center of the field.


    Her heartbeat quickened a wave of dread washing over her. She turned to her mother, her hands trembling. "M-Mom? W-What happened? What did you see?"


    "Cammy, go now! Hurry! Dn collided with another yer and fell!" Monica urged.


    Snapping her gaze back to the field, Cammy saw the coaches and referees motioning for the yers to step aside. The moment they did, her stomach dropped—Dn was on the ground, crying, clutching his injured leg.


    Cammy’s legs gave out, and she copsed onto her seat, her vision blurring with unshed tears. Monica immediately pulled her up with her voice firm. "What are you doing? This is not the time to fall apart—go to your son, now!"


    As the first tears spilled down her cheeks, a sudden surge of determination coursed through her. Drawing strength from it, she rushed onto the field.


    "Dn!"


    "Dn!"


    Both Duncan and Greg called out as they reached him.


    "Daddy! Uncle Greg... Wah!" Dn sobbed, his face contorted in pain.


    Greg snapped into action. "Don’t just stand there! Get something sturdy for a splint!" he barked at one of the coaches.


    Fortunately, one of the referees had already anticipated the need for first aid and arrived with a kit before the coach could even take a step.


    "No, no, no! Don’t touch my leg!" Dn screamed, his body tensing as he saw the referee reaching for his injury. His cries grew louder, punctuated by a harsh, wheezing cough.


    Cammy’s eyes widened in rm. "He’s having an asthma attack!" she shouted.


    Without hesitation, Greg searched Dn’s pockets, quickly retrieving his inhaler. He brought it to Dn’s lips, helping him take a puff. The boy’s breathing steadied slightly, but his panic remained as he refused to let anyone touch his visibly swollen and fractured leg.


    Greg crouched down and gently cupped Dn’s chin, guiding his teary eyes to meet his. "Hey, buddy. Look at me." His voice was calm but firm. "We need to get you to the hospital. I know your leg hurts, but we have to put a splint on it first. It’ll stop it from getting worse."


    Dn whimpered, shaking his head.


    "If we don’t do this now," Greg continued, "you could end up losing your leg. And if that happens, who’s going to take care of your mom? You told me you want to look after her, right?"


    Dn blinked at him, his breaths still shaky but slowing. He gave a small nod, his fear momentarily reced by concern for his mother.


    "Good," Greg said with a reassuring smile. "Because if you lose your leg, she’ll be the one taking care of you instead. We don’t want that, do we?"


    Dn hesitated for a second, then slowly shook his head.


    "So, can the nice, friendly guy put the splint on now?" Greg asked, tilting his head toward the referee.


    After a beat, Dn nodded again, and Greg gave the referee the go-ahead.


    On the other side, Duncan stood silently, watching as Greg effortlessly soothed Dn. His son. A knot tightened in his chest, his fists clenching at his sides. Jealousy and pain twisted together, cutting through him like a de.