Page 59 of Resolute

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Page 59 of Resolute

She closes her mouth.

Her eyes go wide.

Her eyebrows shoot so high, I wonder if they’ll ever come down.

She is—without a doubt—the picture of shock.

“Camila, think about it. If you marry me, we can explore any and all treatments for thalassemia.”

Her shoulders stiffen, and I immediately know I said the wrong thing.

“My daughter is not a pawn.”

She drops the napkin onto the table and starts to rise from her seat.

Just then, the waiter appears with our food and champagne.

I murmur my thanks, barely registering the plates in front of me because all I see is her—standing, torn between walking away and hearing me out.

“Camila, please. Take a seat.”

I plead with my eyes, desperate for her not to shut this down before we’ve even had the chance to talk this through.

“I could never think of Ava as a pawn. I was simply pointing out that you could explore treatments for her disorder that you might not have access to otherwise.”

She looks ready to interrupt me, but I lift a finger, silently asking her to let me finish.

She presses her lips together and sinks back into her chair.

“Think about it. We both can benefit from this arrangement.”

When she releases a deep breath, I know I got her—at least she’s thinking about it.

“Vicente, I wish it were that simple. But what if I say yes, we get married and then the inevitable happens? We divorce. That would not only be a burden to deal with—it would break Ava’s heart. I don’t think I can do it.”

This time she presses her fingers against her temples.

“Even if we end up getting a divorce, it doesn’t mean that it can’t be amicable. I want to be part of your life. Of Ava’s life. Please, Camila.” I practically beg. Because one thing is certain—I want to be a part of their lives.

Her eyes are full of unshed tears, and panic starts spreading through my veins.

What is happening?

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

Owen materializes next to us, and Camila and I startle by the boom of his voice.

“Vicente, fancy seeing you here.”

Gemma, Owen's wife, greets me. I was expecting her to say something for the state I left her husband in, but I guess he didn’t tell her what happened.

Interesting.

“Owen, Gemma. What a surprise,” I say, my tone clipped.

“Oh, Camila. I didn’t recognize you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Vicente having lunch with an employee,” Owen says.

I see fucking red as a grin spreads on Owen’s lips while Camila’s gaze goes to her lap.


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