50-Chapter 7

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Camilla's POV

I got a call from Charlie's dad the other day. He wanted to see me. In prison. He wanted me to visit him so we could talk.
What could we possibly have to talk about?

Everyone would hate me if they found out that I'd had this meeting. They really would. Because what sense does it have in it exactly? Me meeting someone I very much disliked, who everyone disliked.

"I'm here to see Mr Monaco." My voice slid through the gap in the plastic window that separated the guards from the citizens, maybe to give them a sense of power in a place where they would most definitely struggle to receive it.

"Camilla Henderson?"

"Yes."

"Can I have some ID please?" She asked, clicking away on her computer. She nodded her head once I'd shown her. "Head on through, he'll be sat at a table, it's a no touching policy." She warned, before turning her attention to the person behind me.

My eyes landed on his form, not entirely hunched over the table but not stern either. He didn't look very powerful in here, maybe that's why he wanted to leave, because he didn't feel the way he used to. His ego was getting hurt.

"Camilla." He said, lifting his head once I'd taken the seat in front of him.

"What do you want?" I asked, trying to avoid the look of relief that spread across his features.

"To talk, I only want to talk." He said.

"Why? What could we possibly have in common that gives us a conversation?" I interrogated.

"There are so many things you don't know, so many things that Charlie didn't tell you. By your reaction in court I know for a fact she didn't tell you about her child. But this is something that she doesn't know either. Where did you get that tattoo?" He asked.

"I have no idea, I've had it for as long as I can remember, I was probably drunk. Or high." I said, looking around at the other people in the room, all of them occupied in conversations with their loved ones.

"You weren't drunk, or high. You were a child. You got it when you got your tooth taken out. Being knocked out hit two birds with one stone. Too young to comprehend what it was, but old enough to be able to notice it every day you had it." He explained.

"How do you know that?"

"You mean how didn't you? Listen Camilla, your family, I love them. But they have kept this from you for far too long. Before you throw around accusations, they weren't the ones who arranged it, they just had no choice but to accept it."

"Go on. Get to the point."

"You were included in a contract between my family and yours. You and Charlie were meant to be together. Your tattoo symbolises exactly how many years it would be before you met Charlie. But Charlie's obsession with the number is when her son was taken away from her."

"When you took her son away from her." I clarified, irritated.

"If you require getting into technicalities to have this conversation then yes. But do you understand, are you hearing me?" He said, annoyed that I didn't have a bigger reaction. "But you have to also get this, you will die before Charlie does. Charlie's part of the contract was to give her life for yours if the day ever came, but don't think for a minute that her mother will let that happen."

"And what about you? What will you do? Will you let it happen?"

"I had my shot. Charlie's mother has her's left."

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