My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 185: A Mother’s Protection

Cammy swung the door open without bothering to check the peephole, too emotionally drained to care.

She wasn’t expecting visitors.

And yet, standing right in front of her was Greg.

His brows instantly furrowed the moment he took in her red, swollen eyes. "Cammy... were you crying?"

Before he could say another word, she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck as if he were the only thing keeping her from crumbling.

Greg stiffened for half a second, startled by the sudden embrace, but quickly recovered. His arms enveloped her, holding her close without hesitation.

But unlike before, Cammy didn’t sob.

Her tears had run dry, yet the ache in her chest remained—heavy, suffocating. And right now, all she needed was this. The warmth. The quiet comfort of someone who wouldn’t demand anything, who wouldn’t ask her to be strong when she felt like breaking apart.

"Hey, hey... what happened?" Greg murmured against her hair, his voice gentle yet wrapped with concern. "Is Dylan okay? Today was his check-up, right?"

He lifted his gaze and caught sight of Eve, who was watching them from inside the apartment.

Greg’s eyes silently asked the question: ’What’s going on?’

Eve merely shrugged, mouthing, ’I don’t know.’

Greg exhaled sharply, his hands rubbing slow, soothing circles on Cammy’s back. "Did something happen at the hospital? Is Dylan’s leg—"

Cammy slowly pulled away, her grip loosening as she finally let him go. The warmth of his embrace lingered, grounding her just enough to find her voice.

"Dylan is fine," she whispered, her voice hoarse from all the crying. She took a shaky breath, as if needing to remind herself of that truth. "His bone is healing well."

Greg studied her face, searching for the missing pieces to the story.

Eve, sensing the lingering tension in the air, stepped forward. "Why don’t we all sit down?" she suggested, her tone gentle but firm. "Whatever happened, let’s talk about it together."

Cammy hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded.

And as they all made their way to the sofa, Greg knew—whatever had broken Cammy tonight, it was far from over.

As soon as they settled onto the couch, Cammy let it all out. Every painful detail. Every raw emotion.

By the time she finished, Eve’s hands were balled into fists, her jaw clenched so tightly it looked like she was ready to punch a hole through the wall.

Greg, on the other hand, was eerily silent—his knuckles turning white as he gripped his knees, his entire body trembling with barely contained fury.

"That bastard," Eve spat, her voice shaking with rage. "How dare he do that to Dylan? To you?"

Greg exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stay calm. "What’s your plan now?" he asked, his voice threaded with concern.

Cammy sighed, rubbing her temples as exhaustion weighed heavy on her shoulders. "I don’t know... but I need to talk to Dylan about it. Today. He’s hurting, and I need to be there for him."

Eve crossed her arms, shaking her head. "I hate to say it, but I love what Dylan did. Honestly, I wish he’d aimed higher and knocked Duncan right in the face—maybe give him a matching bruise to go with his pathetic excuse for a conscience."

Cammy let out a small chuckle, the first genuine laugh she had managed all day.

But before the tension could ease, the doorbell rang again.

The sound sliced through the air like a blade, and the mood in the room shifted instantly.

Cammy’s stomach twisted into knots as she got up and checked the peephole.

Her entire body stiffened.

Her blood boiled.

And before she even opened the door, she screamed—

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

Both Eve and Greg jolted, whipping their heads toward the door in alarm.

Cammy barely registered their reactions as she yanked the door open, revealing Duncan.

He barged in without hesitation, his eyes wild as they darted around the apartment.

"Dylan—Dylan? Where is he?" he demanded, his voice frantic.

"He’s not here!" Cammy snapped. "And how the hell did you even find out where we live?!"

But Duncan wasn’t listening.

He stormed past her, throwing doors open, searching every room like a madman.

"I SAID HE’S NOT HERE!" Cammy shouted, her voice cracking with anger.

Duncan turned, about to step toward her, his expression desperate.

But before he could get close—

Greg was there.

Solid. Unyielding. A wall of quiet fury stood between Cammy and the man who had just shattered her son’s world.

"Back the fuck off, Duncan," Greg said, his voice dangerously low. "You’ve done enough."

Duncan lifted his hands in surrender, his voice heavy with desperation. "Look, I’m not here to fight. I just want to talk to my son—"

*WHACK*

The sickening sound of Greg’s fist connecting with Duncan’s face echoed through the apartment.

"Ah!" Eve and Cammy gasped in unison, their hands flying to their mouths as Duncan stumbled back, clutching his cheek.

Greg barely flinched, rolling his shoulders as if warming up for another swing. His sharp gaze landed on the hospital tag still wrapped around Duncan’s wrist, and he let out a mocking chuckle.

"Still got your hospital bracelet on, huh?" Greg scoffed. "Might want to head back before I make sure you never leave." He flexed his fingers, his voice thick with barely restrained rage. "Lucky for you, I’ve been itching for a fight today."

Duncan barely reacted to the hit, his focus locked on Cammy. He straightened, ignoring the sharp sting in his jaw, and pleaded, "Cammy, please. Let me talk to Dylan. Like you said, this could damage him. I need to explain—help him understand. Ease his pain."

Cammy’s lips curled in disgust.

"Ease his pain?" she repeated, her voice dangerously low.

Greg tensed beside her, but she gently placed a hand on his arm, silently telling him to step back.

She didn’t need Greg to fight this battle for her.

She’d finish it herself.

Before Duncan could even brace for it, Cammy’s palm struck his face with a force that sent his head snapping to the side.

Then—another slap, even harder than the first.

The impact echoed louder than Greg’s punch.

The room fell into stunned silence.

Cammy took a step closer, eyes blazing with fury, her breath ragged.

"You are NEVER going to see my son again," she spat, her voice shaking—not with fear, but with the unshakable certainty of a mother protecting her child.

And this time, she meant it.