The Billionaire's Revenge

Chapter 12: Happy Hour

Chapter 12

The bass hit before they even entered.

Deep. Loud. Alive.

Cameron parked just outside the club, the glow of neon lights reflecting across his windshield. The place was already packed—lines at the entrance, laughter spilling onto the streets, music vibrating through the walls.

“Ready?” he asked, glancing at Camille.

She smiled. “I think so.”

He stepped out first, then walked around to open her door. The moment she got out—

eyes turned.

Not subtly.

Not quietly.

People noticed.

And Cameron noticed that people noticed.

The second they stepped inside, the energy shifted completely. Lights flashed across the dance floor, the DJ hyping the crowd, bodies moving in rhythm, drinks raised in the air.

“Camille!” Jasmine’s voice cut through the noise.

Rachel and Jasmine rushed toward her.

“Oh my gosh, you look drop-dead gorgeous,” Rachel said, grabbing her hands.

“I told you!” Jasmine added dramatically. “You were hiding all this!”

Camille laughed, slightly overwhelmed. “Okay, okay—stop.”

But they weren’t wrong.

People were staring.

Guys especially.

Watching. Whispering. Waiting.

Cameron stepped closer behind her—subtle at first.

Then his hand found her waist.

Firm.

Protective.

Natural.

Camille felt it immediately.

Not controlling—

but claiming space around her.

Their group moved toward a table, ordering drinks as the music pulsed around them.

“Happy hour just started!” Jasmine yelled over the music.

“Perfect timing,” Cameron muttered.

Drinks came fast.

The vibe got louder.

And soon enough—

they were on the dance floor.

⸻

The music was wild.

Fast. Addictive. Impossible to ignore.

Jasmine pulled Camille into the center. “Come on!”

Camille laughed, letting herself move freely, the rhythm taking over. For a while, she forgot everything else—

until Cameron stepped in behind her.

Close.

Too close to ignore.

“You dance like this all the time?” he said near her ear.

She turned slightly, smirking. “Only when I’m having fun.”

“And you’re having fun?” he asked.

Camille tilted her head. “What do you think?”

Cameron didn’t answer right away.

His hand rested lightly on her waist again.

“Yeah,” he said finally. “I can tell.”

She turned fully toward him now, moving with the music, their space shrinking naturally.

“You’re not dancing,” she teased. “You’re just watching me.”

“I am dancing,” he replied calmly.

“Barely.”

“That’s because I’m distracted.”

Her brow lifted. “By what?”

His eyes didn’t leave hers.

“You.”

Her breath hitched slightly.

Before she could respond—

a guy stepped in.

“Hey,” he said, too casually. “Can I dance with you?”

Camille blinked, caught off guard.

Before she could answer—

Cameron stepped forward.

Not aggressive.

But firm.

“She’s with me,” he said simply.

The guy hesitated, looked between them—

then backed off.

Camille turned to Cameron. “I could’ve handled that.”

“I know,” he said.

“Then why did you step in?”

He leaned slightly closer. “Because I wanted to.”

Her heart skipped.

“That sounds territorial,” she said.

“It is.”

She stared at him for a second.

Then smiled.

“Dangerous,” she teased.

“Only for them,” he said, glancing briefly at the crowd.

⸻

Another song dropped.

Faster.

Louder.

And Camille felt it—

the drinks starting to hit.

Her movements got looser, her laughter easier, her guard slipping without her even realizing it.

“Okay,” she laughed, holding onto Cameron’s arm briefly. “Maybe I had a little too much.”

“A little?” he raised a brow.

“Don’t judge me,” she said, poking his chest lightly.

“I’m not judging,” he said. “I’m making sure you don’t fall.”

“I won’t fall,” she insisted—

then stumbled slightly.

Cameron caught her instantly.

One hand at her waist.

The other steadying her arm.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “You were saying?”

She laughed against him, not pulling away this time.

“You’re enjoying this,” she accused.

“Maybe,” he admitted.

Another guy tried to get closer again, but Cameron’s presence alone was enough now.

No words needed.

His hand stayed on her waist, keeping her close—not tight, not restricting—but enough to make it clear.

She wasn’t alone.

Camille looked up at him, her expression softer now.

“You’re very protective,” she said.

Cameron exhaled slowly.

“You’re very hard not to protect,” he replied.

Her heart raced again.

Even through the noise.

Even through the music.

Even through the haze of the drinks—

that feeling stayed clear.

And Cameron—

he felt it too.

That pull.

That closeness.

That dangerous line he was trying very hard not to cross.

Because the way she leaned into him…

The way she looked at him…

It made it harder than he expected—

to keep his control.