My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 240: Moving Day

The night before the move, Cammy stood at her landlords’ doorstep, heart heavy with the truth she could no longer withhold. They had asked about Greg again, curious and well-meaning, wanting to thank him and Ric for the remarkable transformation of the building.

She smiled weakly, her voice trembling as she finally told them what had unraveled.

Their faces shifted with understanding, their arms wrapping around her in a warm, silent embrace. They offered gentle words, wisdom worn with age and kindness—but beneath their compassion, Cammy caught it. That glint of pity. It stung sharper than she expected.

By dawn, the apartment buzzed with the rustle of packing tape and the soft groans of cardboard boxes. Cammy, Eve, and the Moores moved like clockwork, determined and focused, masking their emotions beneath the tasks at hand.

Ric had arrived early with the moving trucks, all business, though his eyes often flicked toward Cammy with unspoken concern.

"Ric, we really can’t thank you enough for the renovations," Mr. Moore said, wiping sweat from his brow. "Too bad Greg isn’t here to see all this."

Ric waved him off, grinning. "Mr. Moore, if you thank me one more time, I’ll start charging rent. Just feed me your authentic ramen next time, and we’ll call it even."

Laughter bubbled through the group, easing some of the weight in the air.

"I’ve already prepped the ingredients," Mr. Moore replied, his eyes twinkling. "Lunch’s on me later—at the restaurant. Won’t take long."

With the last box secured, they all piled into Ric’s SUV, the road stretching ahead toward new beginnings—or perhaps old ones, reimagined.

"Where’s your car, Cammy?" Mrs. Moore asked, her voice light, unaware of the wound she had touched.

Cammy looked away, her tone carefully steady. "I gave it back to Greg. It was his money, after all."

Silence fell for a moment—just a moment—before Dylan’s sweet, earnest voice cut through it.

"When will I see Uncle Greg, Mommy? I want to show him what I made in Mimo..."

Cammy reached out, her fingers grazing the soft tresses on his head. "He’s very busy with work right now, love. But I’ll tell him you’re asking. I’m sure he’ll come to see you when he can."

They arrived at the new building, and awe swept over them like a tide. Sleek lines, modern touches, and the undeniable presence of thought and care.

The Moore’s ramen shop gleamed from the ground floor, larger than before, its layout smart and spacious, ready to be filled with life again.

The second and third floor walkways brimmed with empty planters—waiting, like everything else, for new beginnings. Above, the rooftop sparkled with glass and sunlight, and its greenhouse was spacious and promising.

They hadn’t even caught their breath when Ric, with a sly smile, pulled down a fabric covering a part of the wall and revealed the addition of an elevator. Gasps and wide eyes followed.

"Greg and I added it after Dylan’s accident," Ric said, a note of emotion brushing the edges of his words. "And let’s be honest, Mr. and Mrs. Moore—you’re not getting any younger. You’ll thank us someday."

They were still letting that sink in when a familiar voice drifted behind them.

"Good morning. Looks like everyone’s ready to move back in."

Greg and behind him was Harry, who was smiling and winking at Eve and Cassey...

He stepped forward slowly, the morning sun catching in his tousled hair. He carried three bouquets—fresh, vibrant, handpicked. His smile was charming, practiced even, but his eyes... his eyes betrayed him. Dark with something unsaid, aching with what still lingered.

"Oh! We thought you weren’t coming today," Mrs. Moore said, surprised.

"I wasn’t," Greg admitted. "But my father heard Cammy was moving back in, and insisted I bring these. One for each of you."

He handed the flowers—one by one—to Cammy, to Eve, to Mrs. Moore. His fingers brushed Cammy’s, just for a second, just enough. Her breath caught, and for a fleeting moment, the entire world fell away. She could feel it again—the heat, the longing, the ache of what could’ve been.

"He’s up on the rooftop. I’ll introduce you all to him later," Greg added softly. "It’s a good luck gift. For moving day."

But it wasn’t just luck that filled the air.

It was unfinished stories, unsaid goodbyes, and the undeniable pull of hearts still tethered in quiet, aching ways.

"Alright, everyone," Mr. Moore clapped his hands together with a grin, his voice loud enough to reach through the rooftop. "Let’s get those boxes moving before the movers’ bill starts running like a taxi meter! We meet at the ramen shop at exactly twelve—no excuses!"

Laughter rippled through the group as they broke into motion. A dance of busy hands and soft chatter filled the building.

Ric stayed close to Cammy, lifting boxes like they weighed nothing, his movements easy, confident.

Greg helped the Moores, his touch gentle with their fragility, his smile warm but distant.

Eve, moved with swift precision, occasionally assisted by Harry and Cassey.

Cammy, cradling a box in her arms, caught sight of someone at the far end of the rooftop.

There—standing alone, hands resting on the railing, eyes lost in the sweeping city skyline—was Richard.

The early sunlight spilled over him, casting a golden glow across his knitted vest and cotton shirt. T he lines of a face that was no longer just commanding—but softened, thoughtful, almost... human.

She walked toward him, slow and uncertain, the moment heavy in her chest.

"Good morning... Ri–uhm..." she hesitated, the words catching in her throat, unsure of how she should call him.

He didn’t look at her right away. "You can call me ’Dad,’" he said quietly. "I know it won’t come easy... but maybe you can try. Little by little."

The words struck something deep inside her, a knot she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Before she could respond, a small hand gripped her leg tightly.

"Who is he, Mommy?" Dylan asked, his voice wary, his eyes wide as he looked up at the unfamiliar man beside them.

Richard crouched, meeting Dylan at eye level. "Is this Dylan?" he asked, his voice warm, almost reverent. "I’m a friend of your grandma and grandpa. So... you can call me Grandpa too, if that’s okay with you."

Dylan blinked, then slowly nodded, a shy smile blooming on his face. He leaned closer to Cammy, still holding on, but more at ease.

Cammy turned to Richard. "Why did you come today? Everything’s a mess, everyone will be busy today. You should’ve called—I could’ve told you when to come, when everything is in its proper place already."

He stood, brushing invisible dust from his vest, but his gaze lingered on the skyline. "I wanted to see where you live," he said simply.

"I thought about buying you a house. Something grand, something new. But Greg... he said I should ask you first. That you might not want something just handed to you. At first, I didn’t understand that."

He paused, turning his face toward her—and this time, the light caught him just right. Not as a businessman. Not as the intimidating father of the man she loved. But as a man—flawed, trying.

"But after seeing this... the view, the way the sun hits the glass, the way the wind carries the scent of the flowers and trees around... I get it now. It’s not about the building. It’s about what you’re building here."

Cammy didn’t answer right away. Something shifted in her then—an old resistance beginning to thaw. For the first time, she saw him not as a looming figure from Greg’s world, not as the man who once frightened her with just a glance... but as someone who was, in his own halting way, trying to belong in her world.

And that, somehow, hurt and healed her at the same time.