Barbara watched his retreating back, so furious she could barely breathe. “That boy… what kind of spell has that Camila Davis cast on him?” Jordan had always been strong-willed, but he had never treated them with such open defiance.
Mason’s brow was furrowed, but he wasn’t as incensed as his wife. Though the words had been harsh, he felt that Nathan and his son were right. This was the best course of action. If Camila returned willingly, everything she had would become theirs. Her devotion to Jordan meant she would give him anything, just like before.
“Let’s just do as Jordan says,” he told his wife. “Pack your things. We’ll go back first.” If they stayed, his wife’s impulsiveness would only cause more trouble, not only jeopardizing their son’s efforts but also breeding resentment between them.
“What?” Barbara stared at him, aghast. “You’re going to listen to him too?”
“Let me give you a warning,” Mason said, his frown deepening. “If you don’t want to lose your son, you’ll listen to him.”
Barbara was still seething, but with her husband siding against her, she had no choice but to concede.
Outside the room, Jordan pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off his exhaustion. “Back to the hotel,” he told Nathan.
Nathan looked surprised. “Sir, you don’t need my letter of resignation?”
Jordan shot him a cool glance. In the past, he would never have tolerated such insubordination. But this time, he didn’t reprimand him. Nathan’s words had been a wake-up call.
Camila didn't care about wealth or status. All she had ever wanted was genuine affection. If he had given it to her, she would have returned it a hundredfold. But he had been blind to that, repeatedly hurting her and allowing his family to torment her. Even after all this time in Cabinda, he had still approached her with a sense of superiority, an assumption that he could have her back whenever he wanted.
But this evening, watching her lean on another man without a moment’s hesitation, he finally understood how wrong he had been.
“Do you think… I still have a chance?” he asked Nathan quietly.
Nathan didn’t answer. The president knew the answer to that as well as he did.
Jordan didn’t press for a response. Whether he had a chance or not, he wasn’t giving up.
Steeling himself, he gave Nathan his orders. “Go buy some nutritional supplements and have them sent to Camila’s mother. First thing tomorrow morning, arrange for my parents to be sent back to Harrisburg. Don’t let them linger in Cabinda.”
Nathan understood. He had finally seen the light. But was it too late? He didn't say anything, simply acknowledging the instructions.
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