My Two Billionaire Husbands: A Plan for Revenge-Chapter 128: This Curse Ends With Me

Duncan’s entire body tensed, his knuckles turning white as his fists clenched at his sides. His teeth ground together so hard it felt like they might shatter. Rage boiled in his veins, an inferno of fury threatening to consume him.

If it weren’t for the fresh wound from his surgery, if he had even a fraction of his usual strength, he would have launched himself at Greg without hesitation, fists flying, and wouldn’t have stopped until the bastard was left gasping for air on the cold hospital floor.

But reality was cruel. Right now, he was nothing more than a broken man, confined to a hospital bed, unable to even stand without wincing in pain. Helpless. Powerless. And worst of all, forced to watch as another man took his place in his wife and son’s life.

No matter what he said, no matter how much he wanted to fight for them, his words carried no weight. Not when he was too weak to even stand on his own two feet without the help of his walker.

The silent war between Duncan and Greg waged on through their locked gazes—an unspoken battle of dominance, of unrelenting hatred. If looks could kill, the hospital room would have been a battlefield drenched in blood.

But then, a small voice, so sweet and innocent, cut through the suffocating tension like a knife.

"Goodbye, Daddy. I hope you get better soon," Dylan said softly. "Can I video call you when I want to see you? The doctor said I have to get better first before I can travel here because I have to be careful with my leg."

Duncan’s hardened expression softened instantly. He looked down at his son and reached out, playfully pinching his chin, earning a giggle from the boy. "Of course, you can. Ask your mom for my number, and I’ll answer your call right away." His voice was warm but firm. "Promise me you’ll focus on getting better, alright? And don’t slack off on your studies."

Dylan nodded enthusiastically. "Okay! See you soon, Daddy!"

With that, he leaned in, wrapping his small arms around Duncan’s waist, squeezing as tightly as he could before planting a quick kiss on his cheek. Then, without hesitation, he raised his arm toward the caregiver, signaling for her to lift him back into his wheelchair.

The moment was slipping away—Dylan, Cammy, Greg—they were all about to walk out that door and leave him behind. But Duncan wasn’t done yet.

"Cammy, wait," he called out.

She paused, turning to face him. Greg, too, stopped and glanced back, his presence looming beside her.

Duncan took a slow breath before speaking, his voice devoid of malice, just quiet sincerity. "If you need to get your things or Dylan’s, you can go to the house anytime.

You should take advantage of these next few days while I’m still here. Stay there if you want. I know you won’t want to be there once I come home."

Cammy’s lips parted slightly, caught off guard by his words.

Duncan held her gaze, his expression unreadable. "That house is yours too, Cammy. No matter what’s happened. You don’t need my permission." A pause. "I’ll let you know when I get discharged."

For a moment, Cammy hesitated. Then, finally, she nodded. "Okay..."

She turned away, ready to leave.

And that was when Greg did it.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he placed his hand on the small of Cammy’s back—a possessive, almost intimate gesture. And then, just before stepping out of Duncan’s line of sight, he cast a brief glance over his shoulder. A smirk. Subtle. Provocative.

He knew Duncan was watching.

And Duncan knew exactly what Greg was doing.

The fury inside him reignited, blazing hotter than ever. His jaw clenched so tightly it ached, his fingernails digging into his palms. Every fiber of his being screamed for him to fight, to rip that smug look off Greg’s face.

But he couldn’t.

Not yet.

Instead, he forced himself to stay silent, swallowing the rage that threatened to consume him whole.

But as he watched them leave, one final thought seared itself into his mind, dark and venomous.

’You’ll regret this, Gregory Cross.’

’I swear, you will regret this.’

The moment the door shut behind Cammy, Greg, and Dylan, Annie wasted no time seizing the opportunity. She sauntered closer with a voice forced with sweetness as she attempted to reel Duncan’s attention back to her.

"What would you like for lunch, love?" she purred, tilting her head with a practiced smile.

Duncan, exhausted and in no mood for pretenses, rolled his eyes and leaned back against the pillows. "Anything the doctor allows would be fine," he answered, his tone cold and indifferent.

Unfazed by his lack of enthusiasm, Annie nodded. "Alright then, I’ll check the list and order something online."

Duncan let out a scoff, a bitter smirk forming on his lips. "Cammy wouldn’t do that," he said with sarcasm. "She’d go out herself, pick a restaurant, and make sure the food was fresh and hot before I even took a bite. But I suppose that’s too much effort for you?"

Annie stiffened, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "I am not Cammy," she bit back. But then, regaining her composure, she flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled.

"But since I love you, I’ll have my bodyguard do just that. Unlike her, I am Annie Tucker. I don’t run errands like some common housewife. I have people for that." She arched a brow.

"You need to get used to having people serve you, Duncan. Stop wasting time on things that ordinary people can do."

Duncan chuckled darkly. "And what exactly do you do, Annie? What skills are you bringing to the table?"

She smirked, unbothered by his taunt. "People skills, darling. You want power, don’t you? You want support? I can give you that." She took a step closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper.

"But let me make something very clear, Duncan. If you cross me—if you so much as think of going against me—I can turn the tides in an instant. I can make everyone abandon you. You’ll lose everything. Don’t you ever forget that."

The weight of her words settled in the room like a heavy fog. Duncan held her gaze, his jaw tightening. It was a direct threat, one he knew better than to ignore. Annie may not have been a business mastermind, but her influence, her connections, her ability to manipulate those around her—that was something he lacked. And she knew it.

He let out a slow breath, his expression unreadable. "After nearly losing my life, trust me, Annie," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "I will never forget just how tightly your family has its hands wrapped around my throat."

Satisfied with his response, Annie gave him a victorious smile. "Good," she said breezily. "Now, let me just have my bodyguard order our lunch. I’m starving." With that, she turned on her heel and strutted out of the room.

The moment the door clicked shut, Duncan let out a long, exhausted sigh. His hand reached for his phone on the bedside table, and as he unlocked it, Dylan’s email was waiting for him. With a slow, almost hesitant motion, he opened the attachment—the AI-generated image of him and the twins, his little angels watching over him.

His vision blurred as a single tear escaped, trailing down his cheek. His grip on the phone tightened as a quiet promise formed on his lips.

"This curse ends with me, Dylan," he whispered, his words trembling with emotion. "I won’t let you carry this burden. I will clear the way for you. Just wait a little longer... and I will make sure you live the life you deserve."