My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge
Chapter 110: Stay With Me

Chapter 110: Stay With Me

As soon as Greg finished his last bite, he wiped his hands on a napkin and pushed away from the counter, his pulse quickening with each step toward his room. But the moment he reached the door to his en suite, his body betrayed him—his feet rooted to the ground, his hand hovering just inches from the doorknob.

His heart pounded against his ribs.

’Was she serious?’

His mind raced with questions, doubts creeping in where confidence usually reigned. ’Did she really mean for me to join her? Both of us... naked?’

’But she was so clear before—this is just a contract, nothing more. No real feelings. No expectations.’

Then why the hell was she asking him this?

Greg exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. He started pacing, the soft thuds of his footsteps filling the silence.

This was new—this uncertainty. He had never hesitated like this in his life. He was always sure, always decisive. But tonight? He didn’t know what the right move was. He didn’t want to cross a line, didn’t want to make things worse between them.

And yet... he wanted to be near her.

"Greg, are you outside?"

Cammy’s voice sliced through his thoughts, pulling him to a stop. "I can hear your footsteps."

He didn’t answer.

Seconds stretched.

Then—

"Are you coming or not?"

His breath hitched.

Greg stepped forward, his fingers brushing against the doorknob, but still, he hesitated. "Are you sure you want me in there?" His voice was quiet, uncertain—so unlike him.

A beat of silence.

Then, firm and unwavering, her response came.

"Yes, I do."

Greg took a deep breath, steadying himself before finally stepping into the en suite.

The soft glow of candlelight flickered across the marble walls, casting golden hues over the room. Steam curled gently from the surface of the water, carrying the faint scent of lavender and vanilla. And there, in the middle of it all, was Cammy—curled up in the bathtub, her arms wrapped around her legs, chin resting on her knees as she stared blankly at the water.

She looked so small. So lost.

At the sound of his footsteps, she lifted her head, her gaze meeting his. Her eyes held something unspoken—something raw, something fragile.

"You can undress and sit behind me," she said softly. "I won’t look. Just... stay with me, please."

Her gentle plea hit Greg like a fist to the chest.

This wasn’t about passion. It wasn’t about blurred lines or whatever tangled mess they had between them.

She wasn’t looking for sex.

She was looking for warmth. For comfort. For someone—him—to make her feel safe in a world that had stripped that away.

Greg swallowed the lump in his throat and began undressing. True to her word, Cammy turned her head away, facing the opposite side of the room.

Once he stepped into the water, he eased himself behind her, careful not to disturb the calm surface too much. The warmth of the bath seeped into his skin, but it wasn’t nearly as overwhelming as the presence of the woman in front of him.

His gaze flickered to the small wooden cup on the tub’s edge. Inside, untouched, were the bath bombs he had set out. "You don’t like them?" he asked. "A client gave them to me, but I don’t really take baths, so they’ve just been sitting there."

Cammy followed his eyes, then reached out and plucked a soft pink bath bomb from the cup. She stared at it for a moment before dropping it into the water, watching as it fizzed and dissolved into a swirl of pastel colors.

"I just forgot to grab one," she murmured before wrapping her arms around her legs again, retreating into silence.

Greg studied her, his chest tightening at how vulnerable she looked. His eyes drifted to the lavender oil on the counter—the cap was off. She must’ve used it earlier.

"Do you want me to put some on your back?" he asked, his voice low. "It’ll help you relax."

Cammy hesitated for only a second before nodding. "Yeah, sure."

Greg poured a generous amount onto his palm, rubbing his hands together before gently pressing them against her bare skin.

She tensed at first, but as his fingers moved in slow, soothing circles, he felt the slightest bit of tension slip from her shoulders.

Greg didn’t say anything. Neither did she.

"Greg..."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, hesitant, fragile.

Greg’s hands stilled against her arms, sensing the weight in her tone. "Hmm?"

A beat of silence. Then—

"Thank you..."

It was soft, almost lost in the quiet hum of the water around them, but Greg heard it. His chest tightened.

"Cammy—"

She cut him off before he could say more. "I know you’re going to tell me that protecting me was part of our contract. But still... thank you."

Greg exhaled, pressing his lips together. ’How could she think this was just about the contract?’

"How did you even know I was there?" she asked.

He sighed, his jaw clenching. "I was already on my way to confront him with what I found. But before I even got there, your bodyguards called. They told me you’d tried to lose them after taking your mom to the airport, that you went to Duncan’s office alone."

His arms unconsciously tightened around her. "I had a bad feeling about it, so I rushed in. And I was right."

Greg shook his head. "I know I don’t have the right to ask you this, but what the hell were you thinking, Cammy? Why would you go there alone?"

Cammy drew in a shaky breath. "I just thought... if I let go of my father’s company and gave it to him, he’d finally leave me and Dylan alone. I even offered to withdraw the divorce settlement—no alimony, no fight—as long as he’d walk away from us."

Greg felt his entire body go rigid. ’That bastard.’

"But..."

Her voice faltered, and Greg immediately caught the shift in her breathing. A moment later, he heard it—the unmistakable sound of her trying to hold back tears.

Greg’s heart clenched. He wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t the type to comfort people with words, and he had no idea what kind of touch she needed right now. ’Should I hold her? Should I just sit here?’

In the end, instinct won. He placed both hands on her arms, rubbing them gently, letting her feel that he was there. That she wasn’t alone.

The second his warmth registered, Cammy did something that made his breath hitch—she leaned back against his chest, pressing herself into him as if seeking shelter.

Greg froze. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

Then, without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Let it all out," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "I’m here."

Cammy clutched his arm as if anchoring herself to him. Her sobs came in waves, raw and unguarded. And then—

"He was going to force me, Greg."

Greg stiffened.

Her voice shook. "If you hadn’t come when you did... he might have succeeded."

His stomach turned violently.

Cammy sucked in a breath, her hands trembling against his forearm. "He did it before. The twins were the result. They were beautiful, my angels, so I convinced myself to forget what he did." Her voice cracked, the agony in her confession slicing through the air. "But now... it’s all coming back. And I feel like trash..."

A guttural, heart-wrenching sob tore from her lips.

Greg’s entire being locked up with rage. His breath came in sharp, controlled exhales, his hands gripping her tighter—not to hurt, but to ground her.

He had known Duncan was a bastard. A manipulative, power-hungry son of a bitch.

But this?

This was monstrous.

His blood ran hot, a dark fury simmering beneath the surface. He wanted to storm out right now, hunt Duncan down, and make him suffer in ways he couldn’t even put into words.

But Cammy needed him here.

For now...