Camilla’s pov
I paced the floor of my penthouse, my fingers gripping my designer leather bag until my knuckles turned white. A persistent, nagging worry burned in my mind, and I could not shake it off. I suspected Vincent would go digging into my story of being pregnant, especially after the erratic scene with the coffee cup earlier today. He was not a fool. If his memories were truly back, his corporate instinct would drive him straight to the source to verify the paperwork. He would go to see the chief laboratory doctor who I had paid to falsify the blood metrics.
I grabbed my car keys, descended to the private garage, and drove my sports car back toward the elite medical center. My chest felt tight the entire way, my mind racing with every worst-case scenario. I needed to ensure that
