Chapter 10 Bad Boys
Camille took a deep breath and started up the marble staircase, heels tapping rhythmically as she climbed. The club’s main floor pulsed below her with flashing lights, heavy bass, and a chaotic energy of the night crowd. But up here, everything shifted. The air was calmer, cooler and with a touch of exclusivity.
At the top of the stairs stood a tall bouncer in a sharp black suit. He had to be new, Camille thought to herself as she ascended. Her eyes took him and she was more than satisfied with what she saw. The man was striking, broad-shouldered with smooth brown skin, a trimmed beard lining his sharp jaw, and arms that looked like they could lift a car without breaking a sweat. His black shirt clung just enough to his chest beneath the suit jacket, and the glint in his dark eyes held a kind of quiet mischief, the kind that promised a very good time, and she did love having a good time.
The bouncer stood by the thick velvet rope stretched across the final step, his frame still as stone, until he saw her. His face broke into a slow, knowing smirk, one he reserved for the familiar and the favored.
“Evening, Miss Lustrelle,” he said smoothly, already unhooking the rope with one hand, his eyes never leaving hers. Camille didn’t respond. Instead, she let her gaze roam over him for a beat too long, openly appreciating the view. Up close, he looked good and if she wasn’t so tired, she wouldn’t have minded seeing how he looked in nothing at all. Her bed didn’t seem like such a lonely place with a man like him in it.
Camille blinked the thought away, lips twitching slightly, then walked past him in silence.
“Have a wonderful evening, Miss Lustrelle.”
She didn’t answer, just lifted one perfectly arched brow and kept on walking. The hallway to the VVIP lounge was dim and lined with gold-trimmed mirrors. Every step forward echoed slightly, reminding Camille she was in heels that definitely weren’t made for dancing. She adjusted her blouse again, completely feeling out of place. She hadn’t changed, hadn’t had time and she knew she looked like she’d stepped out of some finance seminar.
The door to the usual party room loomed ahead, and after a deep breaths, Camille pushed them open.
“CAMILLE!”
The roar of her name crashed into her like a wave. Laughter, shrieks, arms flailing in the air. Her friends were already deep into their drinks, music buzzing softly from the in-wall speakers, and the smell of sweet liquor and cologne filled the room.
Zain stood up first, arms wide. “Look who finally decided to join us!”
“Late to the party and dressed like a substitute teacher,” Ava called, grinning.
Camille rolled her eyes, “Nice to see you too, Ava.”
She made her way across the plush carpet, dodging a spilled glass and a pair of heels someone had already kicked off. As she reached the curved white leather couch, Zain slid over dramatically and patted the seat beside him.
“I don't know why but I missed you princess” he said. “
She dropped into the seat with a soft sigh, letting her purse fall to the floor. “Shut up!”
An hour in, she couldn't help but laugh at Zain's failure at every attempt he made beside her with his snacks. He was tossing them into the air and desperately failing to catch them with his mouth. Ava, on her other side, was snapping selfies at a dizzying speed while Luca lay stretched out with a lazy smirk. Sienna, nursing a bright pink drink, and Belle, flipping her perfect hair every other second.
Camille sighed tugging at her jacket self-consciously. Her outfit, plain slacks, a stiff white blouse, and low heels, screamed "day job" in a room full of designer dresses and thousand-dollar shoes. She did a quick mental note: Tomorrow, I’m burning everything Mother bought me. No way she was letting her mom pick out her clothes again. Never.
"Camille," Belle gasped dramatically. "What on earth are you wearing today?"
Zain whistled low. “You know, you look like… you know what, you look like you’re about to give a TED Talk.”
She watched her friends laugh, and she couldn’t help the low chuckles that escaped her too. Her mom had really done a number on her this morning with this drab outfit. The fact some people wore this daily was beyond her. And now, plot twist, she was one of those people.
"Why are even dressed like that?" Sienna asked.
“Well, I came straight from work, you losers.”
“Work?” Sienna giggled, leaning forward. “You? Please.”
“I’m being serious!” Camille insisted, tipping the drink to her lips.
At her declaration, the entire room exploded in laughter.
“Yeah, right,” Zain teased. “Princess Lustrelle, working. I've gotta hand it to you Camille, that’s one of the best joke you’ve told all year.”
Camille rolled her eyes and took another sip. But even as they teased her, her mind drifted back to earlier, his smug smile and clearly fake charm were impossible to forget. Oliver Larson. Just saying his name made her feel annoyed. God, the guy rubbed her the wrong way in every possible way, and she couldn’t figure out why.
Noticing her friend's silence a d distant look, Ava slid closer to Camille, “You okay, Cam?”
Camille blinked. “Yeah. Just... ran into a jerk today.”
“A jerk?” Belle’s eyes lit up with gossip-hungry glee. “Ooooh. Was he hot?”
Camille nearly choked on her drink. “Ew! No. I'd rather throw myself off a cliff,” she sputtered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as her friends burst into laughter. But even as she laughed along, her mind wandered to the encounter at the office. Oliver Larson. He wasn't even that good-looking. His smile looked like it belonged to a smug schmuck.
But Holland?
Damn.
Now that was true beauty. Effortless, elegant, and really attractive. Camille didn’t even care how many drinks she’d had by that point, but seeing Holland Larson made everything feel different. Holland was just so stunning, and thinking about her made the whole room seem a little warmer and brighter.
Zain leaned closer, his words drawing her back into the ongoing conversation, “Camille’s into bad boys now. Noted.”
She shoved him playfully. “Shut up, Zain.”
Luca lifted his glass. “To Camille!”
The whole table burst into laughter again, and Camille couldn’t help but laugh too, even as she shook her head. Her friends were idiots, but they were her idiots.
Still, she couldn’t shake the thought that stuck to her like annoying static on clothes. Why would someone as amazing as Holland be married to someone like that? It just didn’t make any sense at all. It felt confusing and unfair, and the question kept running around in her head without any answer.
After her third drink, Camille stood up, reaching for her purse. “Alright, children. I’m heading home. I have work tomorrow. Unlike the rest of you guys.”
For a moment, everything went completely quiet. Then suddenly, the whole table burst out laughing like a pack of wild hyenas.
“Sit down, Cammy!” Belle gasped between giggles. “And stop playing with us.”
“I’m not playing!” Camille said, crossing her arms. “I really have a job.”
“Yeah,” Luca said, wiping tears from his eyes, still laughing. “Being the princess of Lustrelle. Tough job. The night’s still young, Cam. We were planning to hit Lux too!”
Camille groaned. Lux was always the highlight of her nights. It’s where she mingled, flirted, and picked her prey. A small part of her itched to go.
“I wish,” she murmured, but then straightened. “No, seriously. I have an actual job. I’m an executive assistant at Marketing at our company. I swear guys.”
More laughter followed.
“Camille,” Zain called in between fits of laughter, “You gotta stop with this. You’re killing me tonight.”
Camille huffed and dug through her purse, knocking over a lipstick, a pack of gum, and her keys before triumphantly pulling out her work ID. She slammed it down on the table like a winning card.
“See?” she said, hands on her hips.
They all crowded around, squinting at the badge. Ava snickered. “Wow. She even made a fake ID. Commitment!”
“You really thought that you could fool us,” Sienna added with a grin as she stared up at Aria.
She really wished she was lying. But this was her life now, early mornings, endless emails, and a boss who looked like a goddess and acted like a drill sergeant. Now, she had real responsibilities, and she didn’t want to disappoint her family.
Three months. Just three months. She could survive that. Then she’d be free again.
Her eyes drifted to her friends. They were laughing, drinking, looking so relaxed and carefree. No worries. No early mornings. No scary bosses that looked like they were ready to heavy out of the window.
They were just like her, rich kids from powerful families. But out of all six of them, she was the only one working. And yeah, that sucked.
For a second, she felt jealous. She was starting to miss being this carefree. She missed being wild.
Three months.
She could handle it.
Zain clutched his chest. “You should look inkt doing stand-up, Cam. You’ll wasted in an office.”
Camille let out a sound of pure frustration, grabbed her ID back, and shoved it into her purse. “You’re all idiots,” she muttered, "Anyway adios guys."
Still laughing, they tried to call her back, tossing teases and playful protests after her. But Camille just shook her head with a small smile and kept walking.
She was too tired to deal with them tonight. Too tired to explain that she was trying, for once, to be serious. That tomorrow would be another uphill battle with Holland Larson, and she had to be ready and well rested for it. Growing up was exhausting.
But damn it, she was doing it anyway.
Three months. She could do this.
She had to.