Cameron‘s smile faded.
Nollace did not stay to hear her answer. He picked his jacket up and left. He was certain that the
answer was only going to be yes.
Cameron waited until he disappeared into the door to lean against her chair, her mood pensive and
thoughtful. A woman approached her from the side and informed her, “Mr. Cameron? Ms. Serrano
invited you on a date in a restaurant.” A smile shadowed Cameron‘s lips. “And she couldn‘t even wait.”
The venue was devoid of other patrons. Clearly, Florence had the whole establishment cleared out just
for her. Now, her bodyguards stood outside like a row of samurais.
Cameron brought two women with her. She found Florence refining her make–up from her seat, her
eyes staring at a compact mirror. “Ah, Cameron! You kept me waiting for a little too long.” The cap on
her lipstick clicked. She looked up and flashed Cameron her most seductive smile.
Cameron pulled a chair out, sat, and chortled. “That‘s your winning make–up? You wouldn‘t be out of
place if you stood outside a brothel! It doesn‘t look good on you at all, Ms. Serrano.”
Florence‘s mien turned stormy. How dare this b*stard suggest something like this!? She took a deep
breath and made sure her smile did not falter. “Look, Cameron. We‘re gonna be married very soon,
aren‘t we? Are these really the things you should say to your future wife?”
Cameron narrowed her eyes. “I think I‘ll be getting nightmares every night if my wife looks like you.”
“How dare you!?” growled Florence. Rage flickered in her eyes, but her father‘s order compelled her to
suppress the mutiny. She gnashed her teeth and forced a smile. “Listen, Cameron. The fact that I‘m
willing to marry you means I think you‘re worth it! Unless... Dare I say it? Unless you‘re impotent.”
Cameron‘s outward indifference made Florence break out a self–satisfied laugh. “Oops, did I just get it
right on the first try? Tsk, tsk. How old are you, Cameron? You‘ve never seen anyone all your life! What
are you? An incel?”
The woman standing behind Cameron was visibly upset. “Please watch your words, Ms. Serrano.”
“Ooh!” Florence leaned forward and took a good look at Cameron. “I mean, everyone loves a pretty
boy. You‘re a pretty boy, aren‘t you? That’s the d*ck women love sucking.” Cameron laced her fingers
together and set them on the table. “And? How are you so sure about me never seeing anyone? Why
would I ever tell you?” Florence was quiet. She had indeed never gone out of her way to gather
information on his love life, but that was only because he was so infuriatingly irritating. The enmity was
mutual, too, so why should she waste time giving a sh*t about his love life?
How could a man like Cameron feel nothing about a woman as seductive and alluring as Florence?
Was there something even more suspicious about this weirdo?
“Hmm. Maybe I have made a mistake, after all,” she suddenly said. “I‘d like to apologize.”
She poured a cup of wine and pushed it to Cameron. The latter stared at it but said nothing. Florence
raised her own cup. “You wouldn‘t mind a toast, would you?”
Cameron pinched the stern between her fingers and sniffed its content. A smile crept onto her lips–a
smile that did not reach her eyes. “Bold of you to try such a typical, underhanded trick on me while I‘m
right here, Ms. Serrano.”
Florence‘s smile froze, but her expression, too, seemed to have calcified. “I don‘t think I understand
your accusation, Cameron.”
Cameron‘s attention shifted to the wine. “I have always been hypersensitive to alcohol. I can smell
something is amiss. The color is too murky, too, so... you added some extra kick into it, didn‘t you?”
Florence visibly stiffened. “You can‘t be serious.”
Cameron pushed the wine back to her. “How about you sample it?” Florence‘s hands, while placed on
her lap, balled into fists. She glared into her partner‘s eyes like a hawk.
She had spiked the wine, but it was a drug that had always been difficult to detect. Nobody else had
ever suspected a thing, and yet Cameron somehow noticed it!
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