Chapter 69. Justice?

Camila paced the length of Travis’s sleek, minimalist living room, her heels clicking sharply against the polished hardwood floor. Each step felt deliberate, a punctuation mark to her growing agitation. The space around her—clean lines, muted grays, glass and steel—felt too controlled, too calm, in stark contrast to the storm raging inside her chest.

“Can you believe it?” she fumed, flinging her arms wide as she pivoted sharply to face Travis. “My design. My concept. And that—that charlatan just claims it as her own!”

Her voice echoed slightly in the open-concept room, ricocheting off the high ceilings. The injustice of it all sat heavy on her shoulders, tightening her throat as anger pulsed through her veins.

Travis remained seated on the charcoal-gray sofa, his posture composed but attentive. He leaned forward slightly, forearms resting on his knees, finger