My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 153: Buried Pain

"Eve..."

Harry’s voice cut through the air, sharp and undeniable. It sent a shiver down her spine, her head buzzing like a swarm of bees had invaded it.

For a moment, they just stared at each other, the world around them fading into nothing. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.

Then he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Cassey... Is she my—"

Panic surged through Eve like a tidal wave. Her eyes widened in alarm.

Without hesitation, she grabbed Cassey’s arm, her grip firm but gentle. "Let’s go, sweetheart. You have school tomorrow. We need to go home."

She turned on her heel, pulling her daughter along. But Harry wasn’t letting her slip away so easily.

His hand shot out, gripping her arm just as she passed him. "She told me she’s eight... That’s the exact amount of time since—"

"Stop." The word left Eve’s lips in a sharp whisper, cutting through his sentence like a blade.

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable. "I don’t know what you’re thinking, Harry. But yes, it’s been that long. More than eight years since I ran away with another man. Her father. Who is now dead."

She swallowed hard, forcing steel into her voice. "Now let go of my arm. My daughter and I are going home."

His grip loosened for just a second—just enough. Eve seized the moment and pulled free, walking away as fast as she could without breaking into a full sprint.

A tear slipped down her cheek. She wiped it away furiously before stepping out into the garden, where the air felt slightly easier to breathe.

She spotted Mr. and Mrs. Moore talking with Cammy and Greg. Keeping her movements quick and purposeful, she approached them.

"Eve! There you are!" Cammy’s voice was filled with relief. "I just sent the maids to look for you and Cassey. Where have you been?"

"Bathroom," Eve answered smoothly, her voice betraying none of the chaos inside her. She glanced at Cassey, who rubbed her sleepy eyes. "It’s late. She has school tomorrow. We should go."

Turning to their landlords, she added, "We’ll meet you at the car."

She didn’t wait for a response. She couldn’t.

She turned on her heel, heading straight for the parking lot. But then—

Her breath hitched.

Harry was stepping out of the mansion.

Eve’s steps quickened, her heart pounding so hard it drowned out every other sound.

Behind her, Cammy frowned, a slight crease forming between her brows. Something felt... off.

"Well, you heard her. She should get going. Cassey will be grumpy tomorrow if she doesn’t get enough sleep," Mrs. Moore said with a warm smile, bidding her farewell before walking off with her husband.

Cammy and Greg watched the middle-aged couple disappear into the night before turning their attention back to the lingering guests.

That’s when Cammy spotted him.

"You made it!" she remarked, surprised, as Harry poured himself a generous glass of whisky.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "Barely."

Lifting the glass to his lips, he took a long sip before continuing. "My conversation with my father dragged on longer than expected. I regret being late. Seems like I missed a lot."

But his words held a weight beyond just missing the party. His fingers tightened around the glass, his jaw clenching slightly before he downed the rest in one swift motion. Without hesitation, he poured himself another.

Greg didn’t miss the way Harry drank—too fast, too much, too unlike him.

Harry Parker wasn’t the type to drown himself in whisky. Not unless something was really wrong.

Greg’s gaze narrowed slightly. ’The meeting with his father must not have gone well,’ he thought.

But what Greg didn’t know—what no one knew—was that Harry’s frustration had nothing to do with business, power, or deals.

It had everything to do with her.

Greg’s eyes softened as he spotted Dylan in his wheelchair, letting out a tired yawn while his nanny gently pushed him toward the mansion.

Leaning in closer to Cammy, he whispered, "Can I put Dylan to bed tonight? He looks exhausted, and I’d like to carry him to his room. Just want to ask if he had a good time at the party."

Cammy’s lips curved into a warm smile. "Of course, Greg. You two can have your own little man-to-man talk." Then, narrowing her eyes playfully, she added, "But no more gifts, alright?"

Greg chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. "I promise. No more surprises—at least, not until his birthday."

Before she could say anything else, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head. "I won’t take long."

And with that, he strode toward Dylan, his heart full in a way he never quite expected.

As soon as Greg disappeared from sight, Harry seized the opportunity, sliding into the seat beside Cammy with a casual air—though his true intentions were anything but. He needed to know more about her. About Eve.

"Cammy, I met one of your friends earlier in the mansion. The one with the adorable, chatty little girl," he said, swirling the whisky in his glass. His voice carried the faint edge of tipsiness, but his mind was sharper than ever.

Cammy tilted her head, thinking for a moment before realization dawned. "Oh! You mean Eve and Cassey?"

Harry pretended to search his memory, feigning uncertainty. "Yeah... I think that’s what the little girl said. If I remember correctly."

Cammy smirked, utterly curious what he was up to. "Why do you ask? She’s pretty, isn’t she? Are you interested in her?" she teased, laughing as she caught the faint flush creeping up his neck.

He scoffed, taking a slow sip of his drink. "Maybe... But I don’t mess with married women. That’s not my style."

Cammy chuckled, shaking her head. "You won’t be ruining anything. Eve’s single. And from what I can tell, she’s definitely ready to mingle."

Harry’s fingers tensed around his glass. He exhaled slowly. "I see... What about the girl’s father?"

Cammy pursed her lips, tilting her head as she searched her memory. "If I remember correctly, the father was never in the picture. He doesn’t even know he has a daughter. So, don’t worry—you won’t have any competition there. Should I introduce you two?"

A slow, bitter smirk tugged at the corner of Harry’s lips as something dark flickered in his gaze. ’I knew it. She’s lying. She always does.’ His grip on the whisky glass tightened, but he forced himself to stay composed.

"If it’s not too much trouble, yeah. I’d love to meet her again," he replied smoothly, masking the storm brewing inside him. ’You don’t get to decide this time, Eve. Not anymore.’

Cammy, oblivious to the weight of his words, smiled. "Actually, you won’t have to wait long. Greg hired her to replace me in my team. She starts tomorrow."

For the first time in years, Harry felt his pulse race. It was as if the universe had conspired against Eve’s carefully laid-out plans.

He leaned back, a slow, knowing grin forming on his lips.

’Looks like fate wants us to meet again, Eve.’

"Really? Looks like I’ll be seeing her tomorrow then," Harry said with a smile, but beneath that carefully crafted expression lay years of buried pain.

Cammy, completely unaware of the turmoil behind his eyes, grinned. "Here’s what we should do—tomorrow, you and Greg should join us for lunch. We’ll make it seem like a casual run-in, so she won’t suspect that I’m setting her up with you! She deserves a great guy like you, Harry, and I’d be more than happy to help." She winked playfully.

Harry chuckled, shaking his head, though deep inside, he knew this wouldn’t be as simple as Cammy believed. If only she knew...