CHAPTER 12

Camellia adjusted the strap of her emerald gown, her reflection in the mirror almost unrecognisable. The dress hugged her curve perfectly, the rich accentuating her warm complexion. Her hair was styled in loose waves that cascaded over her shoulders, and her makeup was understated yet striking. She took a deep breath, steadying herself for the evening ahead.

The Blackwood's family dinner was no ordinary event. The gathering of the elite, filled with powerful individuals who wielded influence in every corner of the society. But Camellia wasn't there to show off: she had an agenda.

Zayden arrived at her apartment, looking dashing in a tailored black tuxedo. His gaze lingered on her as she descended the stairs.

"You look stunning," he said, his voice soft but sincere.

She gave him a small smile. "Thank you. Shall we?"

When they arrived at the Blackwoods estate, the atmosphere was as imposing as ever. The estate was luminating with architectural masterpiece designs. As they entered the banquet hall, Camellia felt every eyes turn to her.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd and it wasn't long before Daisy approached, her expression a blend of surprise and disdain.

"Zayden," Daisy began, his tone sharp. "How can you bring her to this event of caliber. Surely, you understand how appearances matter."

Camellia bristled, but kept her expression neutral.

Zayden's gaze hardened, his voice firm. "Cameilla is my guest and she belong here just as everyone else. If you have any issue with that Daisy, I suggest you keep it to yourself."

Daisy's lips tightened into a thin line, but she stepped back, clearly displeased.

Despite Zayden’s defense, Cameilla couldn’t shake off the unease that settled over her. The judgmental stares, the whispered remarks—everything reminded her that she was out of her element. And then came Charlotte.

Dressed in a glittery gold gown, she exuded confidence as she approached. Her smile was anything but friendly.

"Enjoying yourself, Cameilla?" Charlotte asked, her voice dripping with condescension.

“I’m managing,” Cameilla replied coolly, refusing to rise to the bait.

Charlotte titled her head, her smile widening. "I must admit I'm curious. What exactly do you bring to the table, except warming Zayden's bed of course."

Cameilla's eye narrowed, but she forced herself to remain calm. *I didn't realise this is an interrogation. Are you always this curious about other people lives."

Charlotte smile faltered, but she wasn't done yet. "You'll keep wasting your time with him. By the time our Baby arrived," she said, patting her stomach for emphasis, "do you think he won't be able to stay apart from her, from us. I suggest you find another client, you slut," she cursed.

Camellia clenched her fists in anger as she turned to her, the murderous glare piercing into eachother. Before Cameilla could find her voice, Zayden returned to Cameilla’s side, placing a reassuring hand on her lower back.

"Everything okay here?" He asked, his gaze flicking to Charlotte.

"Perfect," camellia said, forcing a smile to mask her anger.

Charlotte scoffed lightly, but walk away, leaving Camellia to exhale in peace.

As the evening progressed, Zayden became engrossed in conversations with business associates, giving Cameilla the opportunity she had been waiting for. She excused herself, navigating through the opulent halls until she found a quieter section of the estate.

She had overheard Daisy, mentioning a private meeting earlier and Cameilla was determined to uncover everything she could. Her heels clicked softly against the polished floor as she approached a slightly ajar door. Peering inside, she saw Daisy and a group of men seated around a small table.

"You're sure this will go unnoticed?" One of the men asked, his voice low and conspirational.

“Absolutely,” Daisy replied. “Using substandard materials will cut costs significantly and help us maximise profits. These clients are too focused on deadlines to question the quality. By the time they realize anything, it’ll be too late.”

Cameilla’s heart raced as she discreetly pulled out her phone, hitting the record button as they continued the conversation of several illicit business dealings. This was exactly the kind of evidence she needed to expose Daisy.

But just as captured a few seconds of the audio, a shadow loomed behind her. She turned sharply, coming face-to-face with the scarred man. His gaze cold and calculating.

"What are you doing here?" He asked in a low growl.

Her mind raced for an excuse. "I was just passing by. I got lost while looking for the bathroom."

The man didn't look convinced. He stepped closer to her, his towering presence making her feel small. "I saw you using your phone. Hand it over."

Before she could respond, Daisy emerged from the room, assessing the situation.

"What's going on here, Ken?" Daisy asked, her tone icy.

“She was lurking outside,” the scarred man said, his tone accusing. “She might have been recording.”

Daisy's eyes flicker to Cameilla, her lips curled into a smirk. "Search her. If she's hiding something well know soon enough."

Cameilla’s heart pounded as the scarred man reached for her, but before he could lay a hand on her, Zayden appeared, his expression dark and menacing.

"Daisy's smirk faltered. "We were simply ensuring your guest wasn't up to something inappropriate."

Zayden stepped between Camellia and Ken, his gaze like steel. "If you think for one second I'll let you lay your filthy finger on her, then you must be mistaken."

Ken backed off under Zayden's intense glare.

“Let’s go,” Zayden said to Cameilla, taking her hand and leading her away.

Daisy's face crumpled in anger. "Make sure you keep an eye on her," she commanded, while Ken gave a curt nod. "She seemed... suspicious."

As they walked down the dimly lit pathway to the main hall, the tension between them crackled like electricity. Zayden’s grip on her hand remained firm, his expression unreadable.

Suddenly he stopped, turning to face her, his dark eyes bore into her with an intensity that made her stomach twist. "Give me your phone."

Her mind raced. What? Why?

“I saw you back there, Camellia,” he said evenly, his voice low

but sharp. “Hand it over. Now."