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~Hope Against Better Judgement~
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2026-02-09 23:34:46
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In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Baffled~
Camille's POVDinner was surprisingly easy.After Noe's nap, he'd woken up energized again, demanding to help me cook. We'd made pasta together, with Noe standing on his stool beside me, stirring the sauce with intense concentration while telling me more dinosaur facts.Adrien had joined us in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of wine, watching us work with an expression I couldn't quite read. Not quite the Ice King. Something softer. Almost peaceful.Now we sat at the dining table together, the three of us, eating the pasta that Noe proudly announced he'd made "mostly by himself.""The garlic isn't even burned!" he declared. "Camille showed me how to watch it carefully so it doesn't turn brown.""That's an important skill," Adrien said seriously. "I clearly have much to learn.""You really do, Papa. Your garlic is always brown. Sometimes black.""Thank you for that assessment."I laughed, and Noe grinned at me, clearly proud of his comedic timing."And sometimes,"
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Half Past Midnight~
It became a pattern. That was the thing about Adrien, the way everything he did had a structure to it, a consistency that was not accidental, built from the same deliberate architecture he applied to everything in his life. The check-ups came every three days now instead of the three-week intervals Dr. Rousseau had prescribed, and I did not argue about this because arguing required a reason and every reason I constructed dissolved when I was actually in the room with him and his hands were actually on my stomach and the lamp was doing what it did and the door was closed. Three days. Like clockwork. Each time the same sequence: blood pressure, stethoscope, positioning, his hands on the curve of my stomach with the clinical purpose that lasted exactly as long as it lasted and then became something else, something that neither of us named and neither of us stopped. His hands would still. The quality of the touch would shift from assessment into something that had no medical category. My
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~The Message~
Camille's POVDinner was surprisingly easy.After Noe's nap, he'd woken up energized again, demanding to help me cook. We'd made pasta together, with Noe standing on his stool beside me, stirring the sauce with intense concentration while telling me more dinosaur facts.Adrien had joined us in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a glass of wine, watching us work with an expression I couldn't quite read. Not quite the Ice King. Something softer. Almost peaceful.Now we sat at the dining table together, the three of us, eating the pasta that Noe proudly announced he'd made "mostly by himself.""The garlic isn't even burned!" he declared. "Camille showed me how to watch it carefully so it doesn't turn brown.""That's an important skill," Adrien said seriously. "I clearly have much to learn.""You really do, Papa. Your garlic is always brown. Sometimes black.""Thank you for that assessment."I laughed, and Noe grinned at me, clearly proud of his comedic timing."And sometimes,"
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Don't Try To Resist Me~
I walked slowly. His hands at my waist were steady and certain, adjusting my direction with the minimal pressure of someone who knew exactly where they were taking me and saw no reason to make it complicated. We moved along the path and I felt the sun shift on my face as we turned and the rose smell deepened slightly. *God, why does his touch feel like this?* My skin burned under the fabric of my coat even though his hands were nowhere near bare skin. Every small shift of his fingers sent sparks racing up my spine. I was supposed to be looking for a silly flower crown, not hyper-aware of how large and warm his palms felt wrapped around my waist. "Why," he said, close to my ear again, "are you doing this?""Elodie," I said."That explains very little.""She made a flower crown and decided I should find it blindfolded. It seemed easier to participate than to argue." I paused. "She usually wins arguments.""So do I," he said. "And yet here I am.""Here you are," I agreed."Guiding my
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Isabella Knows~
I was still sitting at the table when I heard her footsteps coming back.I had not moved. The dessert was still untouched and the dining room was still warm and I had been sitting in the particular stillness of someone who has been handed a thought they cannot put down, turning it over and over with the focused attention of someone searching for the angle that made it less significant than it felt.He came back different.I heard Isabella in the hallway, the unhurried movement of someone who had forgotten something or had not forgotten anything and had simply decided to come back. She appeared in the doorway with her wine glass and her easy composure and looked at me still sitting at the table and did not appear surprised."You didn't move," she said."I was thinking.""Yes." She came back into the room and sat down, not in her previous seat but in the one closer to me, Noé's seat, and she set her wine down and looked at me with the direct warmth that was entirely her own register, no
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~More Tension~
I walked slowly. His hands at my waist were steady and certain, adjusting my direction with the minimal pressure of someone who knew exactly where they were taking me and saw no reason to make it complicated. We moved along the path and I felt the sun shift on my face as we turned and the rose smell deepened slightly. *God, why does his touch feel like this?* My skin burned under the fabric of my coat even though his hands were nowhere near bare skin. Every small shift of his fingers sent sparks racing up my spine. I was supposed to be looking for a silly flower crown, not hyper-aware of how large and warm his palms felt wrapped around my waist. "Why," he said, close to my ear again, "are you doing this?""Elodie," I said."That explains very little.""She made a flower crown and decided I should find it blindfolded. It seemed easier to participate than to argue." I paused. "She usually wins arguments.""So do I," he said. "And yet here I am.""Here you are," I agreed."Guiding my
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Thrown Out~
Chapter Twenty-One Camille's POV The rain started twenty minutes after I left. Of course it did, because my life had become some cruel cosmic joke where every terrible moment had to be punctuated by weather that matched my misery. I walked without direction, just away. Away from the house, away
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Accusations And Violence~
Chapter Twenty.Camille's POV I didn't sleep that night.How could I? My cheek throbbed where Julien had hit me, and his words echoed endlessly in my head. ‘Who have you been fucking?’ The accusation was so wrong it was almost laughable, except nothing about my life was funny anymore.I lay in th
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~Julien Returns~
Chapter Nineteen.Two weeks later, I heard the car pull into the driveway at three in the afternoon on a Thursday, so he left me for five weeks.Five weeks that felt like five years.I was in the kitchen pretending to care about the grocery list I'd been staring at for the past hour, my hand uncons
In Love With The Hot Billionaire. ~The Breaking Point~
Chapter Eighteen Camille's POVI lasted three more days.Three days of carrying this secret alone,waking up nauseous and terrified, of staring at my phone wondering if I should call someone, anyone, just to hear a voice that didn't belong to the nightmare my life had become.Three days of pretendi
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