After Camila Davis made up her mind, she headed straight for the study, ready to print out the divorce papers.
But as she grabbed the doorknob, it wouldn’t budge.
What the heck?
Was the study locked?
Camila frowned in surprise. This room had always been Jordan Smith’s domain. Apart from the cleaning staff, no one else was allowed in without permission.
Still, back when Camila was working at the company, she’d sometimes dash in here to print out urgent documents or research files. The study had always been open back then.
Now, staring at the locked door, Camila wondered—did Jordan lock it on purpose, or did the housekeeper accidentally click it shut while cleaning?
Unable to get in, she shrugged it off and headed downstairs to ask the housekeeper.
“Joe, why’s the study locked?”
Joe hesitated, his eyes darting away from hers. Camila’s heart sank a little. She already had a bad feeling about this.
He cleared his throat and said carefully, “Mr. Smith’s orders, ma’am. He said there are confidential files in there, and unless you’re company staff, it’s best not to go inside.”
Even though she’d expected it, Camila’s fingers curled tight. Was Jordan really that afraid she’d keep interfering with his work? Or worse—did he think she’d steal company secrets?
She’d barely been away from the company for a single day.
She nearly laughed. What did he take her for—a thief?
Even after all the disappointment, this stung more than she cared to admit.
“Alright, thanks for telling me,” she replied flatly, not blaming Joe in the slightest. She turned on her heel and went upstairs to change.
If she couldn’t print the papers here, she could just as easily do it at the print shop downtown.
Nothing was going to stop her from getting this divorce.
After changing into jeans and a sweater, Camila grabbed her purse and headed out.
Joe lingered in the hallway a moment, then, after a brief hesitation, picked up the phone and called Jordan.
“Just as I thought…” Jordan said, not surprised in the least.
He’d always believed Camila wouldn’t give up that easily. That’s why he’d locked the study.
Before she could say a word, Jordan cut her off. “I’m on a business trip. Busy right now. Gotta go.”
He hung up.
Camila stared at her phone, her knuckles turning white from how tightly she was gripping it.
A business trip? With Sandra Taylor? One room?
She laughed, the sound hollow.
Jordan had barely hired Sandra, and now he was personally taking her on trips? He’d never given Camila that kind of treatment. When she was with the company, she’d had to wine and dine clients all on her own—sometimes drinking herself sick, and he hadn’t even bothered to ask if she was okay.
So much for discussing the divorce today.
She wasn’t about to call him again and beg for attention. And as for whether he and Sandra were sharing a room, she honestly didn’t care anymore.
If his heart was already with someone else, what was the point in worrying about his body?
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