Damon stared down at her. He listened to her fake sobs. He looked at her watery eyes.

Any other man in the world would have felt instantly guilty. Any other man would have quickly apologized and tried to comfort her.

But Damon knows how she operates. He knew she was acting.

Damon did not flinch. He replied, his deep voice perfectly calm and completely steady.

"I came here to discuss important matters with my friend Syrus," Damon stated clearly, gesturing slightly toward the nobleman leaning against the doorframe. "It was his choice of venue. I didn’t order any services. I am here for business."

Camilla paused her fake crying. She looked at his calm, serious face.

She let out a soft, bright chuckle. The tears vanished instantly. She reached out and gently held his large, rough hand with both of her small hands. She swung their joined hands casually back and forth, smiling up at him brightly.

"My Lord," Camilla said, her voice sweet and full of understanding. "You know I have always trusted you. I know you are always good to me. I believe you completely."

Outwardly, she looked like the most forgiving, trusting, perfect wife in the kingdom. But inside her head, an entirely different conversation was happening.

Camilla thought to herself. Her internal voice was dark, cynical, and highly accusing.

"Hmph," Camilla scoffed internally, rolling her eyes in her mind. "I don’t believe you for a single second, you liar."

She swung his hand again, smiling sweetly at him.

"If you don’t want to give it to me," her thoughts continued, remembering how he had slept on the cold floor just to avoid sharing a bed with her. "If you act like a frightened virgin in our own bedroom, you are surely getting it from someone, somewhere else. A healthy man has needs. In my world, they say a man always has needs. I don’t want to even talk historically when men were free to do as they please."

She looked at his broad shoulders and his handsome face.

"Who knows," Camilla accused him wildly in her mind, her internal voice dripping with sarcasm. "Maybe you have a whole secret harem of beautiful women at your absolute beck and call hidden somewhere in this city. And then you have the total nerve to come here, find me having a little bit of innocent fun, and give me this angry attitude?"

She squeezed his hand softly.

"Save your anger for your mistresses, General," she finished her mental rant. "I am just enjoying a nice cup of wine and a foot massage."

Damon stood perfectly still. He listened to her entire, ridiculous mental accusation.

He exhaled sharply through his nose. A loud, harsh breath of air escaped his lips.

Who does she think he is?

Damon’s pride was deeply offended. "Does she truly think I am a man who runs after cheap pleasure in secret establishments?" He thought to himself.

He lived a life of strict discipline, military honor, and grueling hard work. He had not touched a woman in years, and she was currently accusing him of keeping a secret harem while she literally stood five feet away from six half-naked male escorts she had hired for herself!

The sheer, absolute hypocrisy of her thoughts pushed Damon over the edge.

Damon stopped swinging his hand. He tightened his grip.

He firmly, but carefully, held her delicate wrist. His large fingers wrapped securely around her arm, completely stopping her playful movements and snapping her completely out of her internal thoughts.

Camilla blinked, looking up at him in surprise. His grip was not painful, but it was an undeniable command for her absolute attention.

"Now it is your turn to explain," Damon said. His voice was incredibly deep, cold, and demanding. He did not let go of her wrist.

He leaned forward slightly. His eyes pierced right through her fake, sweet smile.

"Weren’t you supposed to be visiting your injured brother at the Kennedy estate today?" Damon asked, his tone sharp and calculating. "The carriage driver reported that you went to see Lord Zade. So, what exactly are you doing here?"

He glanced quickly over her bare shoulder, looking at the dancer with the gold armbands, the harpist, the man with the wine, the man with the grapes, and the man with the fan.

"And what is all of this?" Damon demanded, his voice dripping with icy anger.

Camilla froze. Her sweet smile completely fell off her face.

She looked into his furious eyes. Her mind, which usually worked at the speed of light, suddenly went completely blank. She had no excuse prepared for this. She could not say she tripped and fell into a room full of half-naked men.

"Well..." Camilla stammered, her voice suddenly small and nervous. She looked around the room, trying to find a lie. "I... I..."

She swallowed hard. For the very first time since arriving in this novel, she was completely speechless.

Across the low glass table, Zade watched the entire terrifying interaction.

He saw his older sister trapped by the angry General. He saw her stuttering. He saw Damon holding her wrist tightly.

Zade felt a massive surge of guilt. He had caused this entire mess. He was the one who had planned the outing. He was the one who had brought her to this establishment. He was the one who had clapped summoned the five men. She was just sitting there, enjoying the music.

"I cannot let her take the blame for this," Zade decided in his mind. "I am a man. I must protect my sister from that tyrant."

"General," Zade called out loudly. His voice was raspy, but he tried to make it sound as strong and confident as possible.

Damon stopped looking at Camilla’s panicked face. He slowly turned his furious glare toward the younger man.

Damon left Camilla’s face and turned his full attention to Zade.

Zade felt the terrifying weight of the General’s stare. It felt like standing in front of a roaring dragon. But Zade refused to back down.

He puffed his chest out as far as his bandages would allow. He needed to make an excuse that would completely clear his sister of any romantic wrongdoing. He needed Damon to believe that Camilla had absolutely zero interest in these six spectacular men.

Zade took a bold, completely crazy step forward.

He walked around the glass table. He walked directly toward the line of six half-naked escorts standing frozen in the middle of the room.

Zade walked right up to Mateo, the handsome brown-haired man holding the silver plate of sweet red strawberries.

Without hesitating for a single second, Zade reached out his arm. He wrapped his arm firmly around Mateo’s bare, muscular waist. He pulled the incredibly handsome escort tightly against his own side.

Mateo blinked in absolute, utter surprise. He looked down at the young, bruised lord grabbing his waist. Mateo kept his professional, charming smile on his face, but internally, he was highly confused by the sudden change in clients.

Austin, still sitting on the sofa, slapped both of his hands over his mouth. He could not believe what his best friend was doing. Zade was trading his sexuality for his sister’s safety.

Zade stood tall, holding the half-naked man tightly by the waist. He looked Damon right in the eyes.

Zade raised his chin defiantly.

"My sister ordered them for me," Zade declared loudly, his voice echoing in the quiet room.