I stared at her, Camille, my jaw tight, masking the storm of emotions churning inside me. She looked scared-terrified, even-her wide eyes darting nervously, her face pale as if she'd seen a ghost. I could only imagine what was racing through her mind. I was shocked too, seeing her standing there, but I buried it deep, my expression cool and controlled, betraying nothing.
Beneath the shock, anger simmered. Did she know who I was when she threw herself at me last night? I couldn't believe the woman I'd slept with was my best friend's fiancée.
"Camille," Lucas said, his voice snapping her back to reality, his brow furrowing slightly as he noticed her frozen stance.
She blinked, realization dawning that she'd been staring at me strangely in front of Lucas and his parents. Her lips parted, and she forced a shaky smile, her fingers twitching at her sides.
"Are you okay? Your face is as white as a sheet," Lucas asked, concern lacing his tone, his hand reaching for hers. If only he knew why she looked like she was about to bolt.
"I'm fine," she said quickly, her voice a touch too high, her eyes flicking to me before darting away.
Lucas's gaze shifted between us, his eyes narrowing slightly, suspicion creeping into his expression. "Do you two know each other?" he asked.
Camille opened her mouth, but I cut in before she could speak, my voice smooth and firm. "No, we don't."
She looked shocked at my response, her eyes widening briefly, her lips parting as if she couldn't believe I'd lied. Did she think I'd announce to Lucas, over his parents' dining table, that his fiancée was the woman I'd fucked last night? That she'd moaned and writhed under me while a party raged downstairs?
"It's nice to finally meet you," she said after a beat, her voice steadying, though her hands trembled slightly as she smoothed her dress. "Lucas has said a lot about you."
I nodded, playing along, my lips curving into a polite smile that didn't reach my eyes. "I hope it's the good stuff."
Lucas seemed to relax, his shoulders loosening as he pulled Camille closer, wrapping an arm around her waist. My eyes flicked to his hand, possessive and deliberate, a clear message: she's mine. I forced my gaze away, my jaw tightening.
"Camille, this is my best friend, Damien Montgomery," Lucas said, his voice warm with pride. "Damien, this is my fiancée, Camille Hunt."
I extended my hand, my movements slow and deliberate. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," I said, my tone neutral, though my eyes locked onto hers, daring her to keep up the charade.
She eyed my hand warily, her fingers hesitating before brushing against mine in the briefest handshake, her skin cold and clammy. She jerked her hand back quickly, as if burned, her cheeks flushing. If she didn't want Lucas to suspect anything, she needed to get her act together. Her nervousness was practically screaming guilt.
"Why don't we all sit and finish dinner?" Cecil said, her voice cutting through the tension as she gestured to the table.
We took our seats, the clink of cutlery resuming as the meal continued. Camille kept stealing glances at me, her eyes darting nervously every time I moved, as if she expected me to drop the bombshell at any moment. I could practically hear her heart pounding, her fear palpable. She sat rigid, her fork trembling slightly as she pushed food around her plate.
Strangely, I was attuned to her every movement, too. Without looking directly at her, I noticed the way her fingers gripped her glass too tightly, the way her breath hitched when our eyes accidentally met. It disturbed me, this hyper-awareness of her. I didn't want anything to do with her—not after this. Besides the fact that she was my best friend's fiancée, she was clearly a gold digger, clawing her way into Lucas's world. I didn't mess with women like that.
Thankfully, Cecil spoke up, pulling my attention away from Camille's anxious fidgeting. "So, Damien, how has work been? You've barely made time to visit us since you moved to London," she said, her tone warm, her perfectly manicured fingers resting on her wine glass.
I leaned back in my chair, forcing a casual smile. "Just been busy. The business requires my presence a lot."
Cecil nodded, her lips pursed in understanding. "I get it. Business before pleasure."
"Exactly," I said, my gaze sliding to Camille for a moment before returning to Cecil. "Though it's nice to see Lucas finally settling down. Never thought I'd see the day." I turned to Camille, my voice taking on a teasing edge. "I'm curious about the woman who managed to get Lucas to agree to walk down the aisle. How did you two meet?"
Camille was poking at her food, her fork scraping softly against the plate, but she didn't respond immediately. She didn't even seem to hear me, her eyes distant, lost in thought. Lucas tapped her gently on the arm, his brow creasing.
"Camille?" he prompted.
She jolted, her head snapping up, her eyes meeting everyone's at the table. Mrs. Cecil's face twisted with irritation, her lips thinning...she clearly didn't approve of Camille. That made two of us.
"Yes?" Camille said, her voice small, her cheeks flushing under the scrutiny.
"Damien asked you a question," Lucas said.
"Oh. Sorry, I got lost for a moment," she mumbled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously.
I gave her a chilling smile, my eyes narrowing slightly. "It's alright. I asked how you two met. It's just surprising that Lucas would want to settle down after knowing you for, what, like two months?"
"Three months," she corrected quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. "We've known each other for three months. We met in the lobby of the company. I was working as a receptionist…"
That caught my attention. I raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. "You're a receptionist? Really?" I glanced at Lucas, my tone laced with disbelief. "A receptionist? Really?" Lucas had never been one to dally with the help, let alone fall for one.
Camille's eyes flashed with offense, her chin lifting slightly. "Yes. Is there a problem?" she asked, her voice sharper now.
"No, I'm just intrigued," I said. "Lucas never seemed like the type to go after junior staff."
"Our status didn't matter to us," she said, her voice gaining strength as she glanced at Lucas, her eyes softening. "It was love at first sight."
Lucas smiled at her, his hand squeezing her shoulder, but I couldn't shake the unease curling in my gut. Love at first sight? Or a calculated move to climb the social ladder? I leaned back, watching her closely, the memory of last night burning in my mind. Whatever game she was playing, I wasn't about to let her drag Lucas or me down with her.