Camilla's POV
The morning had gone exactly as I'd planned it.
Vincent had left before I woke up or before I let him see me wake up. I'd heard his keys at six forty-five, the quiet pull of the front door, the lift arriving and departing. He hadn't knocked on the guest room door like he usually does. It was his habit to check in on me before and after he leaves. He hadn't left a note. He'd simply gone, which told me that my plan had worked perfectly.
Guilt made men predictable. It made them avoid eye contact and leave early and check their phones twice as often as usual and agree to things they'd normally push back on. Vincent was deep in it and I'd put him inside that box. Oh, how I love toying with him.
His sense of responsibility made him the easiest target of all, I knew he would
