<b>Chapter </b>2


    By the time Camden’s car pulled up, the restaurant looked like a reality show intervention gone wrong.


    tes and jars glittered across the reimed hardwood.


    He stood there processing the carnage for a solid ten seconds.


    Then he nodded to his security detail–yeah, he traveled with bodyguards now like some Silicon Valley messiah–and they cleared out my backup dancers.


    Without a word, he scooped up Vera from where she was having her breakdown in the corner and looked at me like I was something that had crawled out of TMZ’sment section.


    “Sage. What part of ‘don’t pull this shit‘ was unclear?”


    Oh, I’d gotten the memo every single time I’d made their little love story inconvenient. Every time I’d forced him to do damage control on his double life.


    I gave them my best pageant smile.


    “You better bring some actual consequences this time. Really sell it.”


    I gestured at the destruction like I was presenting a game show prize.


    “Because every time you set up Princess here in some new venture, I’m gonna redecorate. And next time? I’m livestreaming it on TikTok. This whole neighborhood’s gonna know her specialty isn’t molecr gastronomy–it’s


    husband theft.”


    “We’ll see how many foodie influencers want to cob with a homewrecker.”


    Vera’s tears turned into full–body sobs. She buried her face in Camden’s Hermès sweater.


    “Watch yourself, Sage.”


    His voice could have sh–frozen Hell.


    “I went after her. She’spletely innocent. You want to me someone? me me.”


    Something about the way he said it–so protective, so final–made me want tough and cry simultaneously.


    “Perfect. Let’s make this about you then.”


    Before anyone could blink, I wound up and pped Camden across his perfectly chiseled face hard enough to leave a handprint.


    His head whipped sideways. He stayed frozen like a deer under the light.


    <b>13:25 </b>


    <b>Hell </b><b>Yeah </b><b>Forget </b>the Other Woman My Smart House Was Cheating <b>On </b>Me<b>! </b>


    <b>27.5</b><b>% </b>


    I’d actually stunned him. Probably the first time since prep school that anyone had touched the great Camden Ashworth without permission.


    When he finally looked back at me, his expression belonged in a morgue.


    “Looks like you need a timeout in county lockup.”


    I watched him pull out his phone.


    He spoke to hiswyer in that same arctic CEO voice. File charges. Domestic violence. The works.


    My voice shook but I kept my chin up.


    “Hope they’ve got good Wi–Fi. I’ll be posting my side of the story!”


    He pocketed the phone and looked at me coldly.


    “Looking forward to it.”