Chapitre 22: The Bastard's Dinner table

Camille did? But why would she get herself involved with all this?

No, more importantly, how did she know to follow Ferrari? Did that mean she had her doubts about him from the start? Why? How? They barely saw each other, so why would she even start to suspect him? What gave it away?

While I had these serious thoughts, Ferrari was lifting up the sheet over my legs, and it wasn't until I felt a breeze blow under the shirt, that I realized what this bastard was up to.

"What do you think you're doing?" I leveled my gaze at him.

He tossed the sheet behind me, "I wouldn't have made you wear a shirt if I wasn't looking for eye candy."

Damn! This man was shameless.

"Haa." I sighed in anger, I'd definitely get back at this man once all this was over and done with. "First, finish what you were saying about Camille. Why would she have someone follow you?"