Chapter 16
Camilla was ushered into Don Colen’s grand dining hall by his bodyguards. The room was massive, the kind that made you feel small no matter how much space you took up. The long table stretched endlessly, covered with a feast fit for royalty. She was guided to a seat at one end while Don Colen sat at the opposite side.
The silence between them was thick, broken only by the soft clinking of silverware as Don Colen began eating.
Camilla glanced at the space between them -it felt more like a chasm than a table. She shifted uncomfortably, poking at the food on her plate.
Don Colen noticed her hesitation and
paused, his sharp gaze locking onto her.
“You seem unsettled. Is something wrong?”
Camilla hesitated, unsure how to phrase it without sounding foolish. Finally, she
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spoke. “It’s just… I’m not used to eating with someone sitting so far away. It feels strange. Lonely, even. I’d rather eat next to my future husband.”
Don Colen’s fork stopped mid–air. For a moment, his expression was unreadable. Then, to her surprise, he laughed—a low, genuine chuckle that filled the room. Without a word, he stood, picked up his chair, and carried it over to her side.
“Well, I suppose I can’t have my bride feeling lonely,” he said, sitting down beside her.
Camilla smiled, feeling oddly at ease. The shift in distance seemed to melt the tension. As they ate side by side, the mood lightened.
They made small talk at first, mostly about the wedding plans. Camilla asked about the ceremony details, Don Colen answered with short, practical responses. But eventually, her curiosity got the better of her.
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“Why me?” she asked, setting her fork down. “You could have anyone. Why choose me?”
Don Colen glanced at her, his expression thoughtful. “Do you remember the banquet three years ago? My family hosted it for an alliance negotiation.”
Camilla frowned, searching her memory. Banquets were a blur of faces and
formalities, but something about that night tugged at the edges of her thoughts. “I think so,” she said. “But I don‘ t remember much about it.”
“I do,” Don Colen said, leaning back slightly. “I remember you.”
Camilla blinked. “Me?”
“Yes.” He gave her a small, amused smile. “You weren’t loud or trying to grab attention like everyone else. You were… different. I saw you at the edge of the room, watching everything. You didn’t need to speak to make an
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impression.”
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She was taken aback. “I was just trying to stay out of the way.”
“Exactly,” he replied. “You had this quiet confidence about you. I couldn’t stop watching. That’s when I decided if I ever needed to take a bride, I’d want
someone like you.”
Camilla didn’t know what to say. She had never thought someone like Don Colen–a man known for his power and ruthless reputation–would pay attention to such a small moment.
“So, I made my choice,” Don Colen continued, his tone matter–of–fact. “It was supposed to be three years ago but I wasn’t stable during those times. I just acquired our group and a lot of people wanted me dead, but now I know that I can protect you. And here we are.”
“Just like that?” she asked, her voice laced with disbelief.
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“Just like that,” he said, giving her a rare, soft smile.
Camilla felt a warmth spread through her chest. The weight of the day, the
uncertainty of being in his world, it all felt a little lighter. Maybe this wouldn’t be as cold and transactional as she’d feared.
They continued eating, the conversation flowing easier now. Camilla asked about his life growing up, his favorite places, even his thoughts on the wedding traditions. Don Colen, to her surprise, answered honestly, occasionally throwing in a dry joke that made her laugh.
As the meal wound down, Don Colen
glanced at her. “You‘ re not as nervous now,” he observed.
“Maybe because you‘ re not sitting miles. away,” Camilla replied with a grin.
He chuckled again, a sound she was beginning to enjoy. “Fair enough.”
For the first time since entering his estate,
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Camilla felt like she belonged.
“So,” she said after a pause, “the rumors about you-
“Most of them are probably true,” Don Colen interrupted, his tone light. “But which ones are you thinking of?”
Camilla hesitated, unsure how to phrase it. “That you‘ re cold. Ruthless. Impossible to please.”
He chuckled, the sound surprisingly warm. “I’m not an easy man, that’s true. But I’m not as heartless as people like to say. You‘ re seeing that for yourself, aren’t you?”
She studied him for a moment, realizing he was right. The man sitting beside her wasn’t the monster the rumors painted. He was intimidating, sure, but there was a kindness in his actions–a willingness to move his chair, to laugh with her, to share a vulnerable moment.
“I think I am,” she admitted softly.
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“But just so you know,” Don Colen smiled at her as he kissed her hand,
“You‘ re the only one who’d gotten this sweet, soft side of mine because you‘ re my woman. Understood?” There was a commanding tone yet Camilla didn’t fear it, instead she loved his possessiveness.
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