Chapter 212: Social Media Crumbs

He brushed another tear from her face. "You think I love you because you have some perfect life? I love you because you are you. The woman who made me believe that after everything I got wrong, I could still get one thing right. So no. You will not let other people decide your worth. You take that back."

"And tell me...who the fuck are you?"

Naomi shivered at the certainty in his eyes.

Dorian was staring at her like she had lost her mind for even suggesting that there was anything too small, too damaged or too unlovable about her. There wasn’t a trace of doubt on his face. He believed every word he had just said.

Completely.

When Naomi couldn’t find enough faith in herself to stand upright, Dorian seemed to have enough for both of them.

His hands remained on her face as he stared her down. "Who the fuck are you, goddammit?"

Naomi sucked in a shaky breath.

He wasn’t asking for her name. He was demanding that she remember herself.

Naomi wiped at the tears on her face with the back of her hand. "I am Naomi Bennett Heathcliffe, and I am formidable."

"And what should you do to anyone who hits you, literally and metaphorically?"

"I hit back."

"How hard?" he demanded.

"With full power."

"That’s my girl."

The hard edge disappeared from his voice.

Dorian pulled her into his arms again, Naomi wrapped herself around him, resting her cheek against his chest. His hand moved slowly over her back while she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I’m taking you to Vegas this weekend. And when we get back, we go to war."

"Oh..." Naomi suddenly remembered. "I have a birthday party to cater to on Sunday. Remember the man we met at the wedding?"

"Vaguely..."

Naomi shook her head. "It’s his daughter’s birthday party. She is going to be twelve. It’s kind of a big deal, I can’t cancel. I already got paid."

"You need workers, babe. But," he continued, "we can leave Friday morning and get back Saturday evening?"

Naomi considered it. "That works," she said, smiling through her teary eyes.

"Good."

"You already had this planned in your head, didn’t you?"

"I have been planning to go back to where it all began since the moment I realised I love you." Dorian moved closer again and held her arms gently, his thumbs brushing against her skin. "Listen... I know right now it feels like it’s all too much. Marriage is... well... it’s for better or worse."

"I’ve been having a lot of worse."

"Haven’t I too?" Dorian asked. "You don’t know it, but Naomi, you healed me." He gave a small laugh, embarrassed by how seriously he meant it. "Babe, I was married three times! I used to think there was something wrong with me. Something that pushed women away from me. You cured that."

"I haven’t given a crap about Lillian in a long time, and believe me when I say this, I used to give a lot of crap. I couldn’t exist in the same room with her without seeing what I lost or wondering why she would want to be with anyone else when she had all of this." He gestured proudly to himself.

Naomi laughed. "You’re so arrogant."

Dorian’s mouth curved. "I haven’t been that in a long time either. You make me feel like a sovereign. When we make love... I feel like I can rule the world because you constantly remind me how good I am, how powerful I am, how my cock is divine..."

"Okay... okay... okay..." Naomi’s face turned red instantly. "I talk too much, I get it."

"Oh..." His smile widened. "Is Mrs Heathcliffe shy?"

"You stop, you." She looked down at her feet, suddenly fascinated by the floor.

Dorian laughed.

This woman could say the filthiest things imaginable when she was in the moment, then blush like an innocent schoolgirl afterward.

It was one of his favourite things about her.

Dorian reached for her face again and gently tilted it upward until she looked at him. "It’s you and me against the world, remember that. We can crush whoever penetrates our bubble."

She stepped onto her toes and kissed him.

Dorian immediately wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her closer.

When Naomi pulled back slightly, Dorian kept her close.

"I’d do anything for a daily dose of that," he murmured against her lips.

Naomi smiled. "Anything?"

Dorian’s eyes narrowed. He knew that tone. Ginny used it all the time. "Within reason."

"You’ll get even more if you promise to start eating in the mornings."

"I eat in the mornings."

"Before you go to work," she corrected.

Dorian paused. "Oh, that... I’ll work on it."

"I’m gonna make something for dinner," she said.

Dorian nodded.

As Naomi walked past him, he gave her a small tap on the ass.

Naomi shook her head and kept walking.

Dorian watched her leave the room, a faint smile still on his face, then his attention shifted back to the burner phone lying on the floor.

He walked over and picked it up.

The screen was cracked. What exactly had he expected after throwing it at a wall like an angry teenager?

He turned the phone over in his hand and frowned at the damage.

Still, the message itself mattered more than the phone.

Dorian remembered every word.

Adrian had known before he did that Diana would be an unreliable witness.

It meant there were pieces of this mess Dorian still didn’t have.

He stared at the broken screen.

And what the hell was this about finding Marianne a lawyer?

Richard had been trying to arrange legal representation for Marianne.

Why? Out of generosity? Nothing he had learned about Richard Whitmore suggested the man did anything out of generosity.

He looked toward the bedroom door. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep Marianne from her.

At first, keeping the truth had made sense. But now? Now everything around Naomi’s past was starting to collapse at the same time.

And Naomi was still operating with half the truth.

He had spent so much time encouraging her not to hide things from him, yet he was standing here doing exactly that.

Not for selfish reasons. But still. A secret was a secret.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw. He really needed to get involved.

Not because he didn’t trust Adrian.

Adrian was one of the few people Dorian trusted without question.

But with what he was quickly learning about the Whitmores, it seemed the stakes were higher than he had originally thought.

Every answer seemed to create three more questions, and Dorian was beginning to suspect that if he pulled hard enough on one thread, the entire family history would come apart.

He needed to speak to Adrian.

Soon.

*****

Camille had been quite busy.

Very busy, actually. And in her opinion, she was doing an excellent job.

She had no intention of forcing anything too quickly.

That was how people made mistakes. No, Camille was creating crumbs. Tiny ones. Harmless-looking ones.

The sort of crumbs Naomi could ignore once or twice, maybe even laugh at. But eventually? Eventually enough crumbs became a trail.

And all Camille needed Naomi to do was follow. It might not pay off now, but it most definitely would.

She kept her social media platforms active, seemingly doing nothing more than updating her followers the way she always had.

A picture here. A caption there. Nothing too obvious. Nothing direct enough to accuse her of anything.

That was the beauty of it.

She would take photographs in front of Dorian’s office and tag them with something playful like, Guess who I am on a lunch date with.

Just suggestion. Enough to make people curious. Enough to make Naomi herself wonder.

Camille smiled as she scrolled through one of the posts.

The comments were already doing half the work for her.

People asking whether she and Dorian were reconnecting.

She didn’t confirm anything. She didn’t deny anything either.

Why would she? Let them talk.

She did the same thing outside court locations where she knew Dorian would be.

A carefully framed photograph. A vague caption.

Nothing she couldn’t dismiss later as coincidence.

Naomi didn’t need to catch Dorian doing anything wrong. She only needed to start feeling like there were things happening around her that she didn’t understand.

And once doubt started, Camille knew exactly how destructive it could become. The best part was that she no longer had to guess where he would be.

It was easy.

She had his daily itinerary now. Camille had made herself impossible to miss.

If Dorian was in court, she somehow found a reason to be near the courthouse. If he was at the office, she managed to appear within a convenient radius of Heathcliffe & Associates.

She was wherever he was, and soon, she would deliver the final blow.

That was why she felt particularly proud of herself as she waited for Alistair’s arrival that night. For the first time in a while, she felt as though she had momentum again. She had information now, a plan, and enough small pieces falling into place that she could finally see how to turn Naomi against her own marriage.

Camille crossed her legs on the sofa of her penthouse, a glass of fresh juice in one hand while she scrolled through social media with the other.

A few minutes later, the penthouse elevator dinged.

Camille looked up.

Alistair stepped through.

She smiled immediately and leaned back against the sofa. "Alistair..."