CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
~ Camilla
Nope.
Nothing's wrong. I'm completely fine. I just survived Stephano’s c**k and now possibly walking into Elvis’ arms, or worse, his bed.
“Come on,” Elvis said warmly, offering me his hand.
I took it. Hesitated. And internally screamed the whole way out. Elvis's hand curled around my waist as we stepped out of the restaurant, and I nearly tripped over my own feet.
Breathe, Camilla. You’re fine. You’re a composed woman. You are not unraveling like a cheap thread in a soap opera.
Except I was. Because the entire time, I could feel Stephano’s stare burning into my back like a damn brand. I didn’t need to turn around to confirm it. My spine had already stiffened like it knew it was under surveillance. And when Elvis gave him a polite nod, I nearly yanked him
