Chapter twelve

DANGEROUS GAMES

Dangerous Games

Camille stood frozen, her heartbeat echoing through the dark chamber. The image on the screen behind Julian pulsed like a wound—her daughter, alive. Breathing. Smiling.

Held hostage in a dollhouse.

“You’re lying,” Camille croaked. “That’s not her.”

Julian stepped into the room, slow and deliberate, his movements like a predator closing in—not with violence, but with power. Confidence. Charm so venomous it felt like a spell.

He didn’t flinch. “You know it’s her. You’ve always known I was the only one who could find her.”

Camille felt like the floor had vanished. Every suspicion she’d buried in denial was clawing its way to the surface.

“You planned this from the beginning,” she said, voice trembling. “The night at the club. The cameras. Vivian. My daughter… You’ve been pulling the strings.”

Julian’s eyes glittered. “Of course I have.”

Her rage flared, but so did confusion. He hadn’t killed her. Hadn’t called guards. Hadn’t even raised his voice.

He was letting her see this.

Letting her know.

“But why?” she demanded. “Why me?”

Julian stepped close. Too close. She could feel the heat of him, smell the soft notes of cedar and spice that once made her dizzy with want.

“Because you were perfect,” he said softly. “Because when I watched you in that café years ago, holding your baby with tears in your eyes and no one by your side—I saw someone who would either be destroyed… or become unstoppable.”

Camille’s lip curled. “So you decided to play god?”

“No,” he whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from her cheek. “I decided to give you a throne.”

She slapped his hand away.

“You invaded my life. Manipulated my emotions. You had my child—”

“I saved your child.”

The words rang like a gunshot.

Julian’s face darkened. “You think the people who took her would’ve returned her out of kindness? They were planning to sell her. I bought her freedom. I kept her safe.”

Her knees buckled, but she didn’t fall.

“I didn’t tell you,” he continued, “because you weren’t ready to know the truth. You were still trying to live in a world that didn’t deserve you.”

Camille’s eyes burned with unshed tears. “You’re insane.”

Julian only smiled. “Perhaps. But even madness has purpose.”

He walked to the control desk and touched the screen. The image of the little girl vanished. Another screen lit up.

It showed Camille again. Sleeping in their shared bed. Her hand curled over the space where he should’ve been.

Julian watched the footage as though it were art.

“I’ve watched you break,” he murmured. “And rebuild. Do you know how beautiful you are when you choose yourself over your fear?”

“You drugged me with comfort,” she snapped. “Blinded me with luxury. But I was always a prisoner.”

He turned to her, eyes glowing like coals. “No, Camille. You were always free. You just didn’t know who you were without chains.”

She hated the way her body responded when he came closer. Hated the familiar ache, the warmth that betrayed her.

This man had destroyed her world.

And yet, standing before him now, it was like staring at the very fire that forged her.

“I know about the burner phone,” he said suddenly. “The plane tickets. The account you tried to open under your old name. Vivian told me weeks ago.”

Camille flinched. “She… she warned me about you.”

Julian chuckled. “Vivian did exactly what I told her to. She tested you. She fed you just enough fear to see what you’d do.”

Camille felt sick. “So all of it—every escape plan—was part of your game?”

He nodded. “You played well.”

“You’re a monster.”

“Perhaps,” he said again. “But monsters don’t offer choices.”

He turned off the screens and stepped back toward her, slowly unbuttoning the top of his shirt. His voice dropped to a velvet whisper.

“Tell me, Camille… if I had truly imprisoned you, would your body still crave mine like it does now?”

She hated him.

But she hated herself more for the way her thighs pressed together at the sound of his voice. The fire in her belly that refused to die, no matter how betrayed her heart felt.

“You think seduction can fix this?” she asked, furious at the hitch in her breath.

“I think truth is seductive. Power is seductive.”

His hands came to rest at her hips. Not forcefully. Not with violence. But with worship.

“You’ve always belonged with kings,” he whispered. “And I am the only man who knows how to treat you like a queen.”

His lips brushed her ear. “Don’t you see, Camille? All of this… every move, every test… was to see if you could rule beside me.”

She pulled back. “And if I say no?”

His smile was soft. Dangerous. “Then you can leave.”

Her eyes widened. “You’ll let me go?”

He nodded. “With money. Protection. A new name. A life far from mine. I’ll even let you take her.”

Her heart stopped. “My daughter?”

“Yes.”

Tears pricked her eyes. “Why would you let her go now?”

“Because I want you to choose me,” he said simply. “Not be bound to me by fear or force.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a keycard. Gold. Embossed with her initials.

“In here, there is access to everything. Her location. Your escape funds. Freedom.”

Camille stared at it.

Julian took her hand, placed the keycard in her palm. His fingers closed gently over hers.

“But if you stay,” he said, “you don’t just get me. You get the empire. Power. Protection. Love—twisted as it may be.”

She was silent.

He pressed a final kiss to her hand. “You can be my queen, Camille. Or you can walk away and be nothing to me. Just another file in a locked drawer.”

The silence between them grew electric.

“Decide by sunrise,” he said softly. “And if you walk, do not look back.”

Then he turned and left the room, the door hissing shut behind him.

Camille stood alone.

Keycard in hand.

Screens dark.

But her pulse?

Louder than ever.

The house was still. The night stretched long.

And on the table behind her—what she hadn’t noticed before—a second gold card.

With her daughter’s name on it.

But unlike hers… it had a countdown.

00:05:42… 00:05:41…