Chapter 3
"Shut up!" Alban snapped.
He took a step forward, reaching for my arm.
"Camille, you need to explain yourself!" he demanded.
I stepped back, holding Lara close, dodging his hand.
The elevator doors were slowly closing, about to shut after being left open too long.
"An explanation?" I shot back, my tone cold.
I stared him down, making sure he heard every syllable.
I said, "If you want an explanation, that's fine.
"Take it up with my lawyer."
The elevator doors finally sealed shut, shutting out his shocked and furious face.
I turned and walked toward another elevator.
Right on cue, my phone rang.
I picked up with my Bluetooth earpiece.
I said, "Hi, Gary.
"Yeah, he's back.
"Just like we thought, he's making a scene.
"Yeah, I made sure he didn't get in.
"We'll proceed with the next step, just like we planned.
"Alright, thanks for handling it."
After hanging up, another elevator arrived.
I stepped inside with Lara.
The mirrored walls of the elevator reflected my face.
I was calm and detached.
This game with Alban was just getting started.
He set the rules five years ago.
Now, it was my turn to host the game.
Lara's preschool teachers only knew us.
They never realized Lara was growing up without a father.
I simply told them my husband was always away, living abroad.
That harmless lie kept Lara's fragile sense of self-worth safe.
After dropping Lara off with her teacher, I turned and walked away.
My phone was buzzing like crazy in my pocket.
I pulled it out and checked the caller.
Alban's name flashed on the screen.
I hit decline without hesitation.
He dialed again right away.
He was relentless.
I walked into the café on the ground floor of the office building and claimed a spot by the window.
I ordered a coffee.
My phone kept buzzing relentlessly.
Finally, I picked up, switched to speaker, and set it down on the table.
"Camille!" Alban's voice was low and furious, like a trapped beast barely holding back his rage.
"So you finally picked up," Alban said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
I picked up my coffee and blew on it gently.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice cool and detached.
My calmness only made him angrier.
He said, "What do I want? Are you kidding me, Camille? You really think I don't have a reason to be pissed?
"Whose kid is that? Are you messing around with someone else?
"Camille, I've been busting my ass for this family, and you go and make a fool out of me at home?"
I took a sip of my coffee, the bitterness lingering on my tongue.
It jolted me awake.
"Alban, are you forgetting something?" I asked, keeping my voice calm and steady.
"Forget what?" he snapped back, irritation clear in his tone.
"When you walked out five years ago, we signed some papers," I reminded him, my voice still cool and unwavering.
There was a long silence on the other end.
I could just picture him, desperately trying to recall.
Five years ago, his head was full of dreams about a perfect life with Irene.
He never cared about some random document.
"What document?" he asked, uncertainty in his voice.
I chuckled softly. "Forgot already?
"That's alright. My lawyer will help you remember."
Alban scoffed, like I'd just told the world's biggest joke, "A lawyer? Camille, are you seriously playing this game with me?
"We're married! Why can't we just sort this out ourselves?"
"I'm not interested in talking to you," I replied, keeping my tone icy and firm.
I wasn't lying.
Honestly, just looking at him made my skin crawl.
Alban's voice rose, barely holding back his rage. "You have to talk to me.
"That house is ours, marital property. Don't even think about keeping it all to yourself.
"And that kid. If she's mine and you kept her from me for five years, I can sue you over it.
"And if she's not mine..."
He paused, his voice turning vicious and threatening.
He added, "Then get ready to be ruined and exposed for everyone to see."
Listening to his threats, I found them almost amusing.
"Alban," I called out, keeping my tone flat.
"Yeah?" he replied, irritation clear in his voice.
"So, Alban, did you spend the last five years abroad reading nothing but books and never once bother to check the legal news?" I mocked.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Alban snapped, irritation clear in his voice.
I said, "My lawyer's name is Gary Ryan. I'll send you his number later.
"If you want answers about the house, the kid, or anything else, ask him.
"He'll show you exactly what you need to see.
"It's something you personally signed and left your fingerprint on.
"Once you've seen it, if you still want to talk or take me to court, bring it on.
"I'm ready whenever you are."
With that, I hung up on him, cutting him off before he could launch into another tirade.