In the arms of two sins

Chapter 23

David's POV

“What is this nonsense all over the internet?”

Her phone was in her hand, the screen shoved toward my face, the picture I had posted online with the headline bold and vicious.

I didn’t say a word.

Behind her, Andrea was already crying, shoulders shaking, mascara smudged around her eyes.

She sobbed, “Mara wants to ruin my life. She wants to take everything from me. She hates that I have David. She hates that I’m the one getting married.”

Her voice cracked. “She’s doing this on purpose.”

Camille snapped her gaze back to me, fury burning behind her eyes.

“So? You have nothing to say? David, answer me! Why do both of you seem so close?” She looks at the picture with disgust, staring back at me " You have to explain this to everyone”

I kept silent.

There was nothing I could say without making it worse.

“Of course,” Camille let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Of course you won’t speak. You don't even deserve to be a husband to my daughter. You should leave this instant.”

Andrea reached for her mother.

“Mom please don’t say that… I love him. I really want to marry him.”

Camille looked at Andrea, probably with disgust.

“After this? After this picture of him and Mara flying everywhere? The whole internet is dragging this Andrea, open your eyes!”

Then she turned back to me.

“The wedding should be cancelled. I won’t let my daughter make a fool of herself.”

“Mom NO!” Andrea cried, grabbing her arm.

Camille didn’t look at either of us again.

She just shook her head, disappointed and walked out.

Andrea burst into tears harder.

I could feel her staring at me.

“David… say something. Please.”

I headed for the room without answering.

She followed.

As soon as the door closed, she wrapped her arms around me from behind, clutching me as if she were afraid I would disappear.

“I love you,” she whispered into my back, voice trembling. “Please don’t leave me… don’t cancel the wedding. Tell me you love me… tell me you still want me.”

Her grip tightened, desperate.

I stood there, rigid, letting her speak.

Then gently, slow enough not to break her, I took her hands off me and turned around.

Her eyes were red, swollen.

She stepped into me again, hugging me with all her strength.

but I didn’t hug her back.

The moment I stepped inside the company building the next day, I heard it. The whispers.

“Did you see it? The picture…”

“Its wild for a widow to have something going on with her sister in law's fiance”

“Poor Andrea…”

The whispers died instantly when they noticed me.

Silence followed me to my office.

I shut the door and leaned back against it for a second.

Mara.

Where was she?

What was she doing?

Was she crying?

Was she angry?

Was she thinking of me?

I couldn’t stop imagining it.

She must be hurting… she had to be.

This would bring her back to me.

It had to.

I forced myself out of my office and walked to PR.

Through the glass wall, Vivian’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“I cannot BELIEVE this scandal! As if we don’t have enough work already! Now we have to clean up Mara’s mess on top of the anniversary disaster? Seriously?”

Mara stood in front of her desk, tired, beautiful, angry.

Vivian scoffed.

“Who knew you had eyes for your sister-in-law’s fiance. You should be ashamed of yourself and you had the guts to show up here like nothing happened”.

My fists curled.

I took a step toward the door—

But Mara walked out before I touched the handle.

Our eyes met.

Hers were cold.

Completely empty.

And she walked past me.

As if I was invisible.

The rejection slammed through me so hard my jaw twitched.

But I didn’t grab her.

Not now.

Later.

After Office Hours

I waited near her office, pretending to check my phone.

She walked out.

Her pace didn’t slow.

Not even when she saw me standing right in the middle of the hallway.

“Mara.”

She walked past.

Again.

My hand twitched

I nearly slammed my fist into the wall

But I stopped it midway.

Not now.

Not here.

My phone buzzed.

Camille:

> Come here now!!. We need to talk.

I headed there immediately.

Camille was already seated when I arrived, back straight, fingers pressed around a cup she had no intention of drinking from.

Her glare followed me the moment I stepped inside.

“Sit,” she said. Not a request, an order.

I pulled out the chair. She exhaled sharply, disgust written across her face.

“So,” she began, “you finally decided to show your face. After the trash that’s circulating online.”

I said nothing.

Her voice grew ice-cold.

“Do you have any idea how humiliating that video is? My daughter is being mocked. Our family name is being dragged through gossip, all because you and Mara.”

I kept my expression blank.

“And what infuriates me the most,” she continued, leaning forward, “is how calm you look. Like this isn’t a catastrophe.”

I opened my mouth to speak but she cut in instantly.

“No. You listen.”

Her eyes burned.

“I will not watch Andrea suffer because of you. You will distance yourself from the Lawson family, and from her. Completely. This wedding—this relationship—needs to end.”

I let out a small, humorless laugh.

“That won’t be happening.”

Camille blinked, stunned.

“You think this is a negotiation? Your name is being ridiculed publicly. You’re a stain right now”

“I’m not leaving,” I said quietly.

She inhaled harshly.

“My daughter deserves stability. Respect. Not a man who wakes up trending for the wrong reasons.”

I let her finish before tilting my head slightly.

“And does Mr. Holta give you stability?”

She froze.

Her lips parted slightly, hands faltering around her cup.

I went on, voice calm—too calm.

“The nights you met him and the moments you two had”

I held her gaze.

“Should we discuss that?”

I decided to go that far asking her and she confirmed the suspicion I've had in my mind.

“You” she whispered, shaken, “you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know enough.”

I leaned back in my seat.

“Enough to suggest you choose your threats carefully.”

Her breathing hitched.

“You keep pushing me…”

I lowered my tone, “and Andrea will learn exactly who’s been giving lectures on loyalty.”

Silence swallowed her.

After a long moment, she looked away, unable to steady her own voice.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“For you to stay out of my way,” I replied simply.

“And keep your daughter out of a fight she didn’t start.”

I stood up.

“Fix your mess, Camille.”

I glanced down at her.

“I’ll handle mine.”