CHAPTER THIRTY
Camilla
No.
Not her.
Not the same woman I’d seen that day. Not the same one who had been on top of him, riding his c**k in his office while he gripped her hips like she was made to take him. The same c**k that had been inside me.
I hated that my mind went there. That I thought of it in those words. That I thought of his c**k at all. But my traitorous, vindictive brain did.
This son of a b***h.
My hands clenched into fists as I stared at the screen, at the flashing name, my mind racing.
What did she want?
Had he been inside her yesterday? This morning? Was she the last person to have him before me? Or would she be the next?
My stomach lurched. I hated the thought. I hated that I cared. I wanted to break the damn phone. Or better yet—I wanted to break him. I turne
