My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 289: Homecoming

Because of the sacrifice Ric had made for Cammy, for Dylan, and for the child growing in her womb, Greg chose to set aside the bitterness of the past.

In quiet acknowledgment of Ric’s redemption, he allowed him to visit Cammy regularly during her hospital stay and even gave him free rein to prepare her meals, ensuring she was nourished, not just with food, but with intention.

Ric had been relentless in his support, cooking gourmet, nutrient-rich meals with the same devotion he once gave their broken love. And on the day of her discharge, he was there once more—like he’d always been lately, waiting in the background.

As Cammy sat near the hospital entrance in her wheelchair, the early morning sun casting warm gold over her face, Ric knelt beside her with a bittersweet smile.

"Cammy..." he began, voice low and uneven, "now that you’re going home, I’ll be stepping back too. I know I’ve been around a lot, but... I needed to be. I needed to do something. I let you down. I stood by when I should’ve stopped you. And because of that, because of me, you went to prison... and you almost lost your baby."

He looked away, his jaw tightening as if holding back emotion. "But now... now that you’re safe, healthy, I think, my part in this is done."

Greg, who had been standing behind them, crossed his arms and said in a mock-stern tone, "If you keep bringing Michelin-star meals, I’ll allow the occasional visit. But don’t test my limits, Ric."

Ric chuckled, eyes glistening. "Thanks, Greg. I appreciate that. But it’s more than the food. I need to move forward now. For real this time. The guilt’s not eating me alive anymore. Maybe I can finally... breathe."

Cammy reached out, touching Ric’s arm. "You’ve done more than enough. Thank you, Ric. For everything. You know where we are if you ever need us."

They were interrupted by the sound of screeching tires. A sleek black car halted at the curb in front of the hospital.

Cammy’s eyes widened as recognition hit her like a punch to the chest.

"That’s Duncan’s car," she whispered, her heart thudding.

Before Greg could respond, the butler, the head maid, and the driver burst out of the vehicle. Panic was written all over their faces.

"Help! Please! Help us!" the head maid shrieked.

A nurse and two orderlies rushed outside with a gurney, and then came the cry that made everyone freeze.

"It’s too early! I’m not supposed to give birth today!" Annie’s voice pierced the air, shrill and frantic.

Cammy’s hand flew to her mouth in shock as she watched Annie being helped out of the car, her face twisted in pain, her legs soaked with amniotic fluid.

Annie’s eyes locked with Cammy’s—and despite the chaos, despite the fear etched into her face—she managed a glare of pure venom before another contraction tore through her and she screamed again.

Greg’s driver pulled up at the same time and quickly opened the car doors for them, but Ric stepped back and shook his head.

"I’m not going with you," he said firmly. "Tell Mr. and Mrs. Moore I said hello."

And before either of them could protest, he turned around and strode back into the hospital, disappearing through the sliding glass doors.

Greg narrowed his eyes, a shadow of suspicion creeping in as he watched Ric vanish. Something about the way and timing he left didn’t sit right.

"What was that all about?" Cammy asked, still breathless from what they’d just witnessed.

Greg sighed, helping her into the car. "I don’t know," he said, casting one last glance at the hospital entrance. "But I’m going to find out."

With one final look back, they drove off, leaving behind chaos, secrets, and the possibility of a storm waiting to break.

Before beginning the next Chapter of their lives, Greg and Cammy made one final stop—not to stay, but to say goodbye.

They returned to Cammy’s rooftop apartment, a place that had once been her refuge from pain, her small slice of freedom after escaping the chains of Duncan Veston. But today, it wasn’t a homecoming. It was a farewell.

Per Grace and Greg’s arrangement, the officers assigned to escort Cammy had ditched their uniforms in favor of casual clothes. Their unmarked vehicle sat discreetly outside, blending in with the everyday noise of the city.

They knew Cammy didn’t need a spectacle. She deserved peace.

As a quiet gesture of gratitude and celebration, Mr. and Mrs. Moore had prepared a simple but heartfelt lunch for everyone—a warm sendoff before Cammy’s house arrest officially began at the Cross Estate.

Inside the apartment, everything was already packed and gone. Greg had arranged for all her belongings to be moved ahead of time. It was now a hollow shell, the walls echoing with the silence of memories.

Cammy wandered through it slowly, her fingers brushing against doorframes, her eyes soaking in the empty space that had once cradled her healing heart. She lingered by the windows, the ones she used to gaze out of in solitude, searching for peace.

But the peace she once sought was now waiting elsewhere.

"That was quick," he said, watching her approach.

Cammy gave a soft, bittersweet smile. "Yeah... I thought it would be harder. But this place—" she glanced around, "—even though it saved me once... it was never really home. It was just a stopover. A place where I learned to breathe again. But home? That’s where you and Dylan are."

Greg reached for her, wrapping her in a firm, grounding hug. "Then let’s go home."

They made their way downstairs, expecting to find the officers pacing or checking their watches. Instead, laughter spilled into the hallway.

When they walked into the ramen shop below, they were stunned.

The officers—who were supposed to be watching them—were seated casually at the long table with Eve, Harry, and the Moore couple, chopsticks in hand, laughing and eating like old friends. A feast had been laid out across the table—bowls of steaming ramen, dumplings, tempura, and all of Cammy’s favorites.

Mr. and Mrs. Moore immediately stood up when they saw her.

"We’re going to miss you, Cammy," Mrs. Moore said as she pulled her into a warm embrace, her voice trembling with emotion.

Cammy returned it tightly. "I’ll miss you, too. But you can visit me anytime—please do."

Mr. Moore nodded, smiling through the moisture in his eyes. "We’ll come by with a basket of your favorite ramen—just say the word."

Before the moment could turn too sentimental, Eve jumped in, arms folded with playful defiance. "I’m not saying goodbye because I’m calling you every single day. Video calls. Morning and night. Until you get sick of my face!"

The entire table burst into laughter, including the undercover officers, who were now blushing sheepishly at being caught enjoying themselves. frёeωebɳovel.com

Mrs. Moore gently took Cammy’s hand and led her to the table. "Come now, both of you. Sit. Eat. You’ll need your strength for the road ahead."

Cammy glanced around the room—this mismatched little family of hers, forged in the fires of love, loss, and redemption—and felt a wave of peace settle over her. This wasn’t goodbye. It was a promise.

A promise that, even in exile, she wouldn’t be alone.

After their heartfelt sendoff at the ramen shop, the drive to Cross Estate was calm but heavy with anticipation. Cammy watched from the window as the city gave way to rolling hills and the elegant gates of Greg’s estate came into view.

Her heart beat faster as the car pulled into the grand circular driveway. Two estate staff members rushed forward to open the doors. Greg stepped out first, then gently helped Cammy out of the car.

Greg smiled. "Welcome home, Cammy."

Tears gathered in her eyes at those words. Home. A real one.

But as they stepped through the towering grand doorway, she immediately sensed something more—something unexpected.

Waiting just beyond the foyer, beneath the sparkling chandelier, was an elderly man in a wheelchair. His gray hair was neatly combed, his posture upright, and his eyes—bright and teary—locked instantly onto hers.

Cammy’s breath caught in her throat.

"Dad...?" she whispered.

The man opened his arms wide, his voice trembling with joy. "Camilla, my baby girl..."

In an instant, she rushed forward, falling to her knees at his lap, wrapping her arms around him as tears streamed down her face. She sobbed openly, burying her face into his shoulder. "Dad... Dad... I missed you so much!"

Peter Watson gently held her, kissing the top of her head, his own eyes misting. "You’re safe. You’re home. That’s all I ever wanted."

Greg stood behind them, watching the reunion with a gentle smile. When Cammy finally looked up at him through her tears, he spoke softly, "This estate is no longer just mine, Cammy. It’s yours too. And that means your father belongs here as well."

Cammy covered her mouth, her heart swelling with emotion. She turned to Greg, her voice cracking. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you. Thank you... Thank you so much."

Greg walked forward and placed a hand on Peter’s shoulder. "He’s been here for weeks now. I brought him the moment Monica was arrested. But I wanted this to be a surprise."

Cammy wiped her tears, still kneeling. "He looks so different. Healthier... Happier... He was barely holding on the last time I saw him. How—how is this possible?"

Greg gave a quiet smile... but didn’t answer right away.

Instead, his gaze shifted toward one of the long corridors, where faint footsteps could be heard approaching.

Cammy followed his eyes—and froze.

Greg’s voice was low, calm... but full of secrets. "There’s something you need to know, Cammy."