SOLD TO AUGUST CHILDE のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

AUGUST“What do you mean by that, August?”Camilla asked the question with full knowledge in her eyes. She knew exactly what I meant. She just wanted to hear me say it again—wanted to poke at the edge, see how far she could push before something snapped.I hated that part of myself that reacted to that challenge.“This attitude,” I said, keeping my voice low and even, trying my fucking best to keep my anger at bay, “will not serve you well.”She scoffed, as usual. The sound scraped against my nerves, setting them alight.“The man is not even a stranger,” she said. “He’s your friend. And also… you can’t keep telling me what to do all the time. You need to relax.”Relax.The word landed wrong. Like a match tossed onto gasoline.I felt the heat climb up my neck fast, familiar, and unwelcome. The switch inside me flickered—one second steady, the next roaring to life. I knew this feeling too well. The tightness in my chest. The buzzing behind my eyes. The way the world narrowed down to her

CAMILLAI was bored out of my mind. Ama had strict rules, and one of them was that I wasn’t allowed to touch her phone. No calls, no texts, no messages, nothing. I’d tried sneaking a glance earlier, but her glare made me wish I’d never even thought about it. Still, she kept me company, which helped in its own way. She told me stories about August when he was little.How his parents fired her because they thought she was babying him too much. How he tracked her down four years ago and hired her again for the penthouse. How protective he was, even as a child, and how much he’d grown, but still carried that same vulnerability under all the bravado.Her words painted a picture I hadn’t expected. He wasn’t just some untouchable billionaire. He’d been a little boy who got hurt, who had someone quietly in his corner. Ama’s voice softened when she talked about him, her tone gentle, almost reverent. Like he was still the scared child she once cared for, and she was still trying to keep him s

AUGUSTThe moment I got into the car, I shut the door harder than necessary and leaned back against the leather seat. I exhaled hard and pulled my phone from my pocket.Conrad’s number was already at the top of my call log.He picked up on the first ring. As always.“Sir.”His voice was steady and alert. No warmth, no wasted emotion. Just readiness.“I need you to watch someone for me.”There was a brief pause on the line. Not hesitation—never that. Calculation. Conrad weighed every word, every implication, before responding. He didn’t ask unnecessary questions.“Should I get men to do it?”“No.” I reached up and loosened my tie, suddenly aware of how tight it felt around my neck, how it seemed to cut off my air. “I want you to watch her personally.”Another pause. “Alright, boss.”My driver merged smoothly into traffic, the engine humming beneath us. I stared straight ahead, jaw tight, eyes fixed on nothing and everything at once.“She’s a runner,” I added, my voice low. “So watch

CAMILLAThe moment August walked out the door, the penthouse felt smaller.I had gone back to the room and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time, staring at a particular spot, replaying his voice in my head. That calm certainty. The way he spoke like my choices were temporary inconveniences he’d already planned around.I had a million and one ways to leave this man spinning in my head.Run while Ama wasn’t looking. Fake a phone call. Cause a scene. Steal a car. Break a window. Scream. Fight. Do something reckless and loud.Every plan felt half-formed. Risky. Impossible.Even when he wasn’t physically there, I felt watched. Then the idea landed.Clean. Bright. Almost elegant.What if I fainted at the mall?The thought made my pulse jump.Ama would panic. Of course she would—she already hovered like a worried aunt every time I sighed too hard. She’d have no choice but to get me medical help. And once I was there—away from the penthouse, away from the world’s eyes, away from locked

AUGUST“Did she truly faint?”The question left my mouth the second I stepped into the room, sharp and clipped, like I was afraid that if I softened it even a little, the truth would slip through my fingers.The doctor glanced down at his chart, adjusted his glasses, then looked back at Camilla.She lay on the hospital bed with her eyes closed, lashes resting against her cheeks, hands folded neatly over her stomach like she was posing for sleep instead of being dragged here in the middle of chaos.“I’m pretty sure she was just tired,” he said carefully. “Likely exhaustion. She fell asleep. Her vitals are stable. No signs of distress.”Fell asleep my foot.I stared at her for a long second longer than was appropriate. Long enough for the doctor to shift his weight, uncomfortable. Long enough for something dark and restless to coil tight in my chest.That sharp little mind of hers never stopped working. Never rested. Never surrendered.She’d pulled this stunt to escape.To get away from