"I don't owe you an explanation, Duncan," Cammy said firmly. "We're over. You have no right to question me about my choices." She turned away from him and faced her mother. "Mom, I'm heading downstairs to grab some drinks. What would you like?"
Monica, watching the tension unfold with amusement, leaned back on the couch and smirked. "A vanilla latte sounds good."
Cammy gave her a curt nod before turning back to Duncan. "By the time I return, I want those men outside gone. If they're still there, I'll have Dylan moved to another room. The only security detail allowed here is mine—not yours." Without waiting for a response, she grabbed her bag and walked out, leaving the air thick with unresolved tension.
Duncan's jaw clenched as he watched her leave. His fists tightened at his sides, barely containing his anger.
A soft chuckle broke through the silence, making him snap his head toward Monica.
