Reborn From Oblivion (Nellie and Cameron) novel Chapter 988

Cameron had tasted the sweetness Nellie once brought him—how could he be expected to give her up so easily now?

“Morris, Nellie and I truly loved each other. There’s a child between us. I’m not walking away from her without a fight.” As Cameron said this, the look he shot Morris was nothing short of a challenge.

Morris frowned, barely concealing his disgust. “Cameron, do you even hear yourself right now?”

Cameron chuckled, his weathered face creasing, years of hardship and wisdom written in every line. “Morris, you’re not the crown prince of the Capital anymore. You can’t just throw your fortune around and hire some guru to change your destiny. Admit it—you’re only here because you’ve run out of cards to play. And you want me to just hand Nellie over to you?”

“Well, I’m not giving you what you want.” Frustration and indignation flickered across Cameron’s face—a man sick of having his fate decided by someone else.

Morris stared him down, eyes cold as a winter lake, a chill settling in the space between them.

“Cameron, you could have taken the easy way out. But since you want trouble, don’t blame me for what happens next.”

A cold sweat prickled down Cameron’s back, but he quickly pulled himself together. “Please. We were both once princes of the city, and now we’ve both fallen from grace. Why would I be scared of you?”

Morris’s lips curled into a mocking, frosty smirk. “You think you’re on my level? Dream on.”

That laugh sent a shiver through Cameron, making him feel like a fish on the cutting board, Morris holding the knife.

“Cameron, you’re just a footnote in the story I’m writing.” With that, Morris turned and walked off.

Cameron was left fuming.

When Morris got back to the Sharp family’s house, he bumped into Arthur at the front gate, just as Arthur was coming home from work. Spotting Morris’s pale face, Arthur couldn’t help but jab at him: “Morris, you’re pathetic. Dragging yourself out early and coming home late—are you really working this hard just to beat me?”

Morris shot him a look of pure indifference. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t need to lift a finger to deal with you. Ford is enough.”

Ford was the tech whiz at Stewart Enterprise—everyone knew he was a genius with machines, but his social skills were...questionable, to put it nicely.

His condition was getting worse. The attacks were coming more often now.

His heart was failing him—and it was clear he didn’t have much time left.

He pulled out his phone and opened his favorite social app. The top contact—her avatar—had been grayed out, offline for days. Something about it left him feeling strangely empty.

He gave in at last and sent her a message: “How are you these days?”

He gripped his phone, hoping for a reply.

But even as he drifted off to sleep, the silence on the other end didn’t break.

The loneliness pressed in. Nathalie had grown so distant lately.