As I sit here, waiting for Camille to return, I realize something with startling clarity: the choice between Kate's approval and Camille's well-being isn't a choice at all. I know where I stand. I know who I'm protecting.
And Kate, for all her good intentions, will have to accept that or risk losing me.
Chapter 29
Camille
Isplash cold water on my face, gripping the edge of the marble sink as I try to steady my breathing. The bathroom is all polished surfaces and expensive fixtures, just like its owner—beautiful, cold, and unyielding. My reflection stares back at me from the ornate mirror, cheeks flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and anger.
Tonight has been a complete disaster. I knew meeting Tristan's sister wouldn't be easy, but I hadn't expected this level of outright hostility.
"Pull it together," I whisper to myself, echoing the words I've repeated countless times in the past few months. My hands shake slightly as I reach for a hand towel, patting my face dry. The embroidered monogram scratches against my skin—KV, Kate Vale, a woman who made her opinion of me clear within minutes of our meeting.
I take several deep breaths, counting slowly like my therapist taught me when anxiety becomes too much to handle. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight.
When I finally feel steady enough, I smooth my dress, tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and reach for the door handle. I'vefaced worse than Kate Vale in my life. I can absolutely handle an over-protective sister with boundary issues.
I open up the door, preparing to head back into the lion’s den. Kate stands in the hallway though, arms crossed over her chest, blocking my path. Her face is composed in that lawyer way—calculating, observant, ready to pounce on any weakness.
"Were you planning to hide in here all night?" she asks, her voice deceptively mild.
"I needed a minute," I reply, forcing myself to meet her gaze. "Your hospitality is a bit overwhelming."
A tight smile crosses her face. "Forgive me for not rolling out the red carpet for the woman who's upended my brother's life."
"I haven't upended anything," I say, keeping my voice steady despite the surge of anger. "Tristan is a grown man capable of making his own choices."
Kate leans against the doorframe, effectively trapping me in the small space. "What exactly do you think you're doing with my brother?" Her tone is sharp, her eyes cold.
I stiffen, already done with this conversation before it's even begun. "I'm not going to have this discussion with you."
"No?" She raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow.
Heat rushes to my face. "My relationship with Tristan and Julian isn't up for debate, especially not with someone who's already made up her mind about me."
Kate takes a step closer, and I fight the urge to back away, refusing to give her the satisfaction of seeing me retreat.
"Women like you see men like Tristan and Julian and smell opportunity," she says, each word precise and cutting. "They have money, influence, attention to offer. You can't blame me for being suspicious."
I shake my head, a laugh escaping that sounds more like a scoff. "You don't get to make assumptions about my life justbecause you heard some gossip. You don't know the first thing about me or how any of this happened."
"Then tell me I'm wrong," Kate challenges, her eyes never leaving mine. "Tell me you didn't know exactly what you were doing when you got involved with both of them."
My fingers curl into my palms, nails digging into skin. "You are wrong," I say firmly. "I didn't plan for any of this. I didn't expect to fall for them. But I did." The admission makes my voice soften despite myself. "I care about them both, more than I ever thought possible. And they care about me—not because I manipulated them, but because we found something real."
Something flickers across Kate's face—a momentary crack in her certainty. It vanishes so quickly I might have imagined it.
"Real," she repeats, the word hanging between us like a question. "Tell me, what happens when the baby comes? When the reality of raising another man's child becomes more than a theoretical situation? What happens when the novelty of this arrangement wears off?"
The questions hit their mark, striking at my own private fears. "I don't know," I admit. "We're figuring it out, day by day. Like any relationship."
"Except it's not like any relationship, is it?" Kate's voice takes on an almost pitying tone that makes my skin crawl. "It's ridiculously complicated and bound to end badly for someone. Probably my brother."
"You don't give Tristan enough credit," I counter. "He knows what he's doing. He's not some naive boy being led astray."
"I just don’t think he’s thought this through very well," Kate says, her voice suddenly tired. "This whole situation."
"This situation?" I repeat, anger flaring again. "You mean a meaningful relationship with someone who isn't hand-picked by his sister?"
