CHAPTER 17
Camellia closed her apartment door behind her and leaned against it, letting out a long breath. The tension in her shoulders begin to ease, but only slightly. The night had gone better than she anticipated, but the danger from far from over.
She crossed the dimly, lit sitting room and found Nathan and Dan waiting for her. Nathan was pacing, his deep blue eyes snapped at her as soon as she entered.
"You are late," his voice was tinged with irritation as he stopped closer to her.
"Traffic," she replied, waving a dismissive hand. "And I had to make sure I wasn't followed."
Dan, seated at the dining table with his laptop open, raised an eyebrow. “Were you?”
Camellia shook her head. "No that I could tell, but I followed a longer route just in case. Harrison is no fool. He's naturally suspicious.
Dan glanced at it, his brows knitting together. “You didn’t plant it?”
“No,” she admitted, her voice firm despite her disappointment. “He was onto me. Pulled out some high-tech device to scan for bugs. If his phone hadn’t interrupted, I might not have walked out of there.”
Nathan turned, his gaze locking into hers. "It isn't going to be easy to bring him down."
"But we have to keep trying," Cameilla voice was firm as she kicked off her shoes.
Dan's cleared his throat, drawing their attention. “It’s a setback, but not a loss. I’ve been digging through Harrison’s public and private records while you were out.”
"What did you find?" Cameilla asked, her tone sharper than intended as she stepped closer.
Dan's finger flew over the keyboard. Several documents displayed on the screen.
“Harrison owns multiple properties outside the country. Some are registered under shell companies, others under aliases. And get this—these properties are tied to illegal activities: human trafficking, black market deals, even arms smuggling.”
Cameilla leaned closer, scanning the screen, her heart swelled with hope. "We can use them, if we can tie these properties to Harrison and his dealings, it's enough to bury him," her voice was confident.
"Not so fast," Nathan interjected, his arms crossed. "If Harrison is suspicious of you now, he'll be watching your every move. Throwing yourself at him again isn’t just risky—it’s reckless.”
Cameilla met his gaze, her jaw tightening. "I'm not throwing myself at him. I'm just playing the game. If we don't act fast now, we lose."
“And if you get caught, we lose everything,” Nathan shot back, his voice rising. “Including you.”
Dan raised a hand, cutting through the tension. "Let's stay focused. If Harrison is suspicious, that means we need a new strategy. We can't afford any mistakes."
Cameilla nodded slowly. "You're right. We'll regroup and figure out our next move. But this," she gestured towards the laptop, "it's our ticket. We just need more evidence."
Meanwhile, Harrison poured himself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid reflecting the dim light in his study. His mind replayed the evening with Camellia, her forced and rehearsed smile, her unease. Something didn’t sit right with him.
"She's too eager," he muttered, swirling the wine. "Too perfect."
He grabbed his phone and dialed his hitman number. "Keep an eye on Cameilla," he ordered when the call connected. "Discreetly. I want to know where she goes, who she meets and where she's hiding."
Yes, sir,” the voice on the other end replied before the line went dead.
Harrison leaned back in his chair, his lips curling into a cold smile. “Let’s see what you’re really up to, my dear Camellia.”
At the Zayden's mansion, his hand drummed against the desk in his study, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Daisy has always been ruthless, and now Camellia’s accusation refused to leave his mind.
Daisy burned down my family home.
Could this be true?
He opened his laptop, pulling up old records and articles related to the fire. There wasn’t much—just a few vague reports of an accident. But the deeper he dug, the more inconsistencies he found. Witness statements were missing. And investigations were quickly dismissed as the fire was claimed to be an accident.
"Damn it," he run a hand through his hair.
The door to his office, stormed open. “Zayden,” she said, her voice ice-cold. “What exactly do you think you’re doing?” I heard you been requesting for some important documents."
He looked up, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn't be scared if you have nothing to hide." For a second, he contemplated telling her about Cameilla, but quickly discarded. If Cameilla was right, he needed to tread carefully so he won't expose her to more danger. Daisy was dangerous, he knew that well and she could do anything to cover her tracks.
"Scared?" She demanded, stepping closer, her twisted into a mask of feigned composure. "Of course, I'm not. But those files are confidential, and shouldn't just be seen by just anyone."
"I'm a Blackwood, right?" Zayden snapped. "I think I'm more than qualified to see them and know everything I deem fit."
Daisy let out a bitter, cruel laugh. "A Blackwood?" She scoffed, like he was a Joker. "I don't need to remind you your place, do I? Don't forget—you’re just the product of my husband’s illicit affair," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.
Her words cut through Zayden like a blade. Daisy had always seized every opportunity to remind him of his place and the circumstances surrounding his existence, but it still stung each time he heard it.
But today, he won't crumble. "I know that very well Daisy and you don't have to remind me. And if because of that you are expecting to back down like a coward, then you are mistaken.
Daisy’s composure slipped for a moment, her lips tightening. “Happy researching then. But I hope you don't ruin everything we’ve built.”
Zayden stood, his towering frame imposing. “You mean everything you’ve built. I’ve spent my life cleaning up after you and your schemes. Not anymore.”
Daisy’s eyes narrowed. “You’ll regret this,” she said, her voice low and sharp. As she reached the door, she turned back, a cold smile spreading across her face. “Oh, and lest I forget—Alessandro is returning soon. Start packing your things. You won’t be CEO f
or much longer.”