Chapter 103

Damien chuckled silently before responding, "Understood."

Without another word, he turned on his heel and exited the room.

When he returned downstairs, Arlo and Tristan were already halfway through their meals. His solitary reappearance drew surprised glances from the group.

Like Chloe, they'd assumed Camille would never refuse an invitation delivered personally by Damien himself.

"Did she decline?" Tristan inquired between bites.

Damien shook his head. "She did."

Then he addressed the waiting staff with crisp efficiency. "Prepare the seafood platter, grilled lamb chops, and lobster bisque. Deliver them to Mrs. Harrington's suite immediately."

Selene's lips pressed into a thin line at his words.

Camille's refusal to join them meant nothing. Neither did Damien sending food to her room.

But hearing him refer to her as "Mrs. Harrington" made her stomach twist. The title sounded too permanent, too official.

She quickly rationalized that the retreat staff wouldn't know Camille by name. What else would he call her?

Upstairs, Camille's stomach growled audibly.

When the doorbell chimed, she opened it to find a server wheeling in an elaborate cart. The staff member meticulously arranged the dishes, lifting each silver dome with a flourish.

But the moment the aromas hit her, Camille frowned. "There must be some mistake. I didn't order this."

The rich scent of truffle-infused bisque filled the air. The table now boasted an extravagant spread - fresh oysters, wagyu beef, and black truffle pasta.

It looked divine. But completely wrong.

"No mistake, ma'am," the server assured her. "Mr. Harrington specifically requested these for you. Your original order will arrive shortly."

Camille blinked.

This spread could feed four people easily. And now her actual meal was still coming?

The result? She ate. And ate. And ate.

When her scheduled video conference with Gabriel approached, she was still picking at dessert.

Gabriel logged on early to request files, only to find Camille mid-bite. "What on earth are you eating? That looks incredible."

Camille angled her camera to show the feast.

As other team members joined, audible gasps came through the speakers.

"You're eating all that alone? Just started?"

"Actually," Camille dabbed her lips, "I'm nearly finished."

"Did you order the entire menu?"

She hesitated. "Not exactly."

Gabriel's smirk was audible. "Let me guess - your husband?"

"His staff delivered it," she corrected.

"At least the man has some redeeming qualities."

Camille didn't bother explaining this was all for Helena Harrington's benefit.

As the meeting time arrived, she finally pushed her plate away, stomach uncomfortably full.

She summoned staff to clear the table, moving her laptop to a cleaner space. Once discussions began, the meeting stretched well past ten. No one seemed inclined to wrap up.

Camille was deep in technical specifications when the suite door swung open.

Damien walked in.

Her camera angle captured the intrusion. She quickly adjusted the frame, but not fast enough.