Page 51 of Corrupting Camille
What the…?
Kane
I let the silence settle after my words. Around the table, heads shift subtly in my direction, intrigued by the blood already pooling between us.
Camille’s breath catches softly. I don’t look at her. Not yet. I don’t need to. I can feel her. Feel her staring, her pulse thrumming like a desperate heartbeat in my veins. She’s fightingto stay composed, to hold onto that perfect, polished mask of hers.
I’m going to rip it the fuck off.
I flip open the folder slowly, deliberately. I don’t rush. Let them wait. Let her wait.
I tap the document lightly, draw attention without raising my voice. “Operating costs are inflated, administrative overhead is redundant, and the allocations?” I pause, lifting my eyes slowly until they land directly on hers. “Well, they could certainly be more strategic.”
She flinches.
Barely. Just enough for me to savor it.
I don’t smile. I don’t gloat. I hold her gaze steadily, letting the silence stretch, letting her feel every second I’ve spent dissecting her precious foundation piece by piece.
“The Foundation isn’t bleeding,” I continue, soft and brutal, “but it is wasting resources. And it’s doing so inefficiently enough to raise questions about the competency of its leadership.”
Her eyes flare, heat flashing beneath carefully veiled fury. Good. I want her angry. Furious.
Because when she’s angry, she slips. She becomes reckless, impulsive, she reveals herself.
And that’s exactly what I want.
“Going forward,” I say, turning back to the board, dismissing her presence like she’s nothing more than a distraction, “Rivera Holdings will have direct oversight of budgetary approvals. We’ll streamline spending. Maximize returns. And restore proper governance.”
The suits nod quietly, murmurs of approval around the table.
And Camille…Camille just sits there, frozen, eyes wide and wounded, face pale beneath her careful makeup.
She knows exactly what just happened.
I’ve stripped away her authority, piece by painful piece.
And I’ve done it in front of an audience.
Check.
She’s mine now.
Mate.
Camille
My pulse spikes. White noise roars in my ears, my vision narrowing to pinpoints. He didn’t just dismantle my proposal, he’s dismantling me. Piece by careful piece. Right here, in front of everyone who matters.
He finally looks at me again. And this time, his eyes aren’t cold. They’re blazing. Intent. Ruthless.
I recognize the look, the hunger, the obsession simmering just below the surface. It’s the same look he wore when he pinned me down, when he slid his mouth along my neck and promised he’d ruin me.
He kept his word.
“You’re suggesting the Foundation lacks leadership?” My voice comes out sharper than intended, edged with panic I can’t completely hide.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink.
