Camila Davis’s face darkened, her tone sharpening. “That’s really uncalled for. I haven’t made things difficult for anyone. All the handover work—I followed the company policies to the letter.
Dad, you know better than anyone how I’ve worked at The Smith Group all these years. When have I ever treated my job like some kind of joke?
If Sandra Taylor messed up the transition, that’s on her. Either she’s incompetent, or she never deserved the position in the first place.
And as for Sandra’s son—I only stepped in because he kept bullying Lillian, calling her names, even hurting her. I wasn’t going to just stand by and watch—”
“Enough!” Barbara Jones cut her off, her irritation as clear as day. Her voice rose, sharp and cold. “Camila, there’s no need for excuses, and don’t you dare try to smear Daniel’s name! We’ve all had dinner with that boy—he’s sweet, polite, a real charmer.
Don’t try to badmouth a kid just to save face!”
Mason Smith frowned, his voice stern. “Kids play rough, it’s natural. Daniel just got back to the country and wants to make friends. Boys will be boys—they get a little wild sometimes, that’s all! For an adult to hold a grudge against a child? That’s just embarrassing for the Smith family.”
Camila felt any desire to keep arguing drain out of her. She should’ve known—except for her late grandmother, none of them ever cared.
They didn’t like her. They didn’t care for Lillian, either.
She’d hoped, maybe, that even if they didn’t like her, they’d at least have a little affection for Lillian—their own granddaughter—when she was being bullied. But clearly, she’d been kidding herself.
This couple was just like Jordan Smith. No different at all.
He was still smarting from when Camila had called him a “simp” a few days ago, and he wasn’t about to let it go.
He laid into her, relentless. “Sandra’s got a great family, she’s beautiful, classy, brilliant at what she does. Even when she’s away on business, she remembers to bring everyone back gifts.
And you? You married Jordan and still can’t manage a thing. All you do is make people mad, rub everyone the wrong way. No wonder Jordan’s been hung up on Sandra for years—he’s never once looked at you the way he looks at her.
So what if you had a daughter? You had your shot, and you blew it. Couldn’t even win Jordan’s heart. Pathetic.”
He sneered at her, the derision clear in his eyes.

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