My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 234: Back to Work

It was time. Cammy’s return to work loomed like a storm on the horizon, and with a heart leaden with dread and longing, she embraced Dylan one last time, pressing a trembling kiss to his soft curls before tearing herself away.

She climbed into the driver’s seat, Eve already waiting beside her, silent, watchful. Without another word, Cammy turned the ignition and pulled away from the curb.

The image of her son shrinking in the rearview mirror as her chest tightened with every passing second.

"Are you sure you don’t want to take the day off?" Eve asked, breaking the silence as they sped down the highway. Her voice was soft, coaxing. "It’s Friday. You’ve been through hell, Cam. No one would blame you if you took a breather."

Cammy gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles paling. "No. I’ve already been out for four days. That’s a lot. Too much, even. Greg did me a favor, a big one.

I can’t risk anyone thinking I’m milking his generosity—especially not now. He’s going back to work today too, and as his assistant, I have to be there. It’s not just duty—it’s strategy."

Eve’s brow furrowed as she turned to look at her friend. "Do you really see yourself staying there, though? Once Richard officially brings you into the family... once you’re his ’daughter’?"

The question lingered in the air, thick with uncertainty. Cammy exhaled slowly, eyes focused on the road ahead. "I don’t know," she admitted. "He made me a promise—to help me reclaim CorEx.

And I fully intend to hold him to it. But until I get the conservatorship lifted, I’m still a prisoner in this game, Eve. I can’t lead something I don’t own."

She stopped at a red light, the brake lights of the cars around her glowing like blood in the growing dusk.

Eve leaned forward, her tone sharpening. "You need to start thinking about that now, Cam. Richard doesn’t make promises without expecting something in return.

Harry told me he’s obsessed with legacy—his children inheriting his empire, running his corporations like they were born for it. He’s not just welcoming you. He’s recruiting you."

"I know," Cammy said, her voice low but marked with steel. "Greg warned me. So did Grace. I never wanted any of this—the boardrooms, the corporate wars, the manipulation. I wanted peace. A life where I could just breathe.

But if the only way I can take back what’s mine—my company, my future, and my son—is to stand in the fire, then fuck it. I’ll burn if I have to."

Her gaze locked on the traffic light, heart pounding like war drums. The light turned green.

"I’ll do whatever it takes."

Upon arriving in the parking lot, it was unusually quiet as Cammy and Eve walked toward the building. Each footstep echoed like a countdown in Cammy’s head.

She could already feel the steel-cold tension that awaited her inside—between unspoken truths, looming decisions, and the storm that Richard’s name alone seemed to summon. ƒгeeweɓn૦vel.com

They stepped into the elevator just as the doors began to close. A hand shot out—firm, familiar—and the doors slid open again to reveal Greg and Harry.

Cammy froze for a fraction of a second.

Greg gave her a tight smile, stepping in with that quiet grace he wore like armor. Harry followed behind, throwing a charming but noticeably restrained smirk at Eve.

The doors slid shut.

Silence.

Tension wrapped around the four of them like a noose. No one spoke for a moment. The air inside the elevator was thick—every breath seemed to weigh more than the last.

Then Eve, ever the firestarter and peacemaker rolled into one, spoke.

"So, the CrossMart project is about to launch its beta test online," she said brightly, glancing at Harry. "We’ve been busting our asses to get it ready. It’s finally happening next week."

Harry blinked, surprised—and grateful for the shift in energy. "No shit? That fast? I thought the integration with the fulfillment system was behind schedule."

"We fixed that last weekend," Eve replied, her eyes sparkling with pride. "And the UI team came through with the last set of adjustments. It’s not perfect, but it’s solid enough to go live."

Greg arched a brow. "That’s impressive. Last I heard, CrossMart was having problems with the API integration with the couriers. If the beta works, that could be the turning point."

"It better be," Harry muttered with a lopsided grin. "If this flops, Ethan might throw the whole division into the fire pit and start from scratch."

Cammy couldn’t help but smirk faintly. "Or repurpose it into one of his legacy monuments," she said dryly.

Greg chuckled under his breath. "Don’t give him ideas."

The elevator dinged.

As the doors parted, the weight in the air hadn’t disappeared entirely—but it had shifted. Eased. The laughter had broken something open, if only slightly.

They stepped out together, the tension still simmering just beneath the surface—but no longer suffocating.

Cammy walked forward with Greg by her side, while Harry and Eve followed, still throwing light jabs at each other about project deadlines and missed messages.

Cammy stepped onto the CEO floor like she was walking on a blade.

The polished marble tiles gleamed under the cold lights, and every footfall echoed with the weight of expectation.

The receptionist’s desk stood like a throne gate at the far end of the hallway—and behind it, Mila’s sharp eyes immediately locked onto them.

She stood the second she spotted Greg and Cammy walking side by side.

"Mr. Cross, Cammy," Mila greeted, heels clicking briskly as she fell into step just behind them.

"Good morning to you both." Her tone was polite, and her eyes flickered briefly to Cammy with a playful smirk.

Greg didn’t slow his pace as they headed toward his office, the sleek glass doors gliding open automatically as he approached.

"Your 10 a.m. is waiting in Boardroom C, and your one-on-one with Mr. Wright from Legal is confirmed for noon," Mila reported crisply, walking in rhythm behind them.

"You have a product review at one-thirty and a potential investor call blocked at three. Marketing is asking for fifteen minutes between meetings for brand alignment. And Mr. Richmond from Cross Holdings has requested a dinner meeting sometime next week to discuss the upcoming transition."

They stepped into Greg’s office, the door silently closing behind them. It was cool, modern—dark wood, steel accents, and a view of the skyline that stretched like a challenge across the horizon.

Greg nodded absently as he pulled off his coat and dropped it onto the chair. "Cancel the three o’clock onward," he said without looking up. "Clear my schedule. Cammy and I will be heading to Cross Holdings this afternoon."

Mila blinked. "All meetings after three, sir?"

"Yes," Greg said firmly. "Everything. Reschedule with Wright if necessary. Tell Richmond I’ll talk to him once Cammy is officially introduced."

Cammy’s spine stiffened. "Wait—what?"

Greg finally turned to face her. Calm. Measured. And yet there was something burning in his gaze—something quietly protective.

"You’re coming with me," he said.