CHAPTER 297: CAMMY’S PROJECT (3)

Cammy wasn’t allowed to step foot in a mall while serving her sentence, so the moment she slid into the car, she whipped out her phone and dove into online shopping—baby stuff galore, all in soft, dreamy pastel colors.

She’d been dying to do this for weeks, but Eve and Ellie were keeping the baby’s gender under lock and key until the big reveal party. Total torture.

However, now that they will have more babies, she can do this for the girls.

She giggled while browsing the online marketplace. ’Everyone will be surprised when they see the girls,’ she thought.

As soon as she got home, Cammy called a mini meeting in the dining room. Andrea, Edward, Hanna, and Roger sat around the table, watching her fiddle with her laptop, whispering among themselves, trying to guess what she was up to.

A few clicks later, Cammy looked up and said, "Andrea, can you show Hanna where Greg’s office is? I sent something to the printer—please grab it."

The two ladies returned with a neat stack of printed pages, which Cammy handed out like surprise party invites. Then, with a big grin, she announced, "Before anything else... Andrea, Edward—Greg and I adopted twin girls!"

The head housekeeper and the butler blinked. No reaction. Just blank stares.

Cammy laughed. "Okay, okay, let me explain!" She quickly filled them in on the whole orphanage story, and as soon as the dots connected, their faces lit up.

"Wait... We will have three babies in the house?!" Andrea gasped, clasping her hands in delight.

"That’s right," Cammy beamed. "So, here’s the game plan!"

She flipped to full project manager mode:

"Andrea, tell the maids to clear out the room next to the nursery and give it a deep clean. The interior designer’s coming tomorrow—I want that room connected to my baby’s room."

"Edward, please post a job listing for new nannies and start interviews. They’ll need a week of training before the girls arrive."

"Hanna, you and Roger are going shopping. I listed the items that aren’t available online. Oh—and here’s my card." She handed the black card over with flair. "Use it for everything, and please treat yourselves to dinner. Full stomachs make for better shopping!"

Cammy looked up. "Any questions?"

A voice from the doorway piped up, "I have one!"

Everyone turned their heads to see Greg grinning.

Cammy’s smile widened as she walked over and hugged him.

"How come I didn’t get a task?" he teased.

"You already have one," Cammy said with a playful smirk.

Greg tilted his head. "I do?"

"Yes—you’re paying for all of this," she quipped.

The whole room burst into laughter, including Greg.

"Alright, alright, task accepted!" he chuckled.

Cammy clapped her hands. "If there are no more questions, you’re all dismissed. Time to get to work!"

Everyone filed out with purpose, leaving Cammy and Greg alone in the room.

She turned to him with a stretch and a groan. "Let’s go upstairs. I want to nap before dinner. My feet are killing me from all the walking at the orphanage. I got so excited, I ended up drafting the entire renovation plan on the spot."

Greg nodded, but before she could take a step, he scooped her up into his arms.

Cammy let out a surprised squeak and clutched his neck. "What are you doing?!"

"My wife said her feet hurt," Greg said, grinning, "so her loving husband will carry her to bed."

Cammy giggled and rested her head on his shoulder as he carried her upstairs, her heart feeling lighter than ever.

Greg gently laid Cammy down on the bed like she was made of glass, tucking her in with the tenderness of a man who thought she might actually stay put.

But just as he turned to leave, Cammy’s eyes flicked over to the mini sewing machine sitting on the dresser—the one Greg gave her when she was still in the hospital. It was like spotting an old friend... and suddenly, sleep was no longer part of the plan.

Without a word, she sat up straight and swung her legs over the bed.

Greg froze mid-step. "No, no, no... what are you doing now?"

Cammy jumped up with the enthusiasm of someone on a sugar high. "I just got an idea!" she said, practically skipping to the door.

Greg furrowed his brow. "Wait a second—we just got here. You said your feet hurt, remember? Nap? Ringing any bells?"

Cammy waved him off, grabbing a measuring tape, a notepad, and a pen like she was gearing up for a mission. "I think I know how the orphanage can get more funding! I need to test something."

And off she went.

Greg let out the slowest sigh in human history, yanked off his tie like it personally betrayed him, shrugged out of his jacket, and changed into a shirt and shorts before trailing after his wife. At this point, he knew resistance was futile.

He found her in the kitchen, crouched beside one of the staff’s little daughters—probably around five years old—taking measurements like she was on "Project Runway: Mini Edition." The little girl stood tall, grinning proudly, clearly thrilled to be Cammy’s model.

Greg leaned on the doorframe, watching in amused silence. When Cammy was on a roll, the world sort of just... followed.

Once done, Cammy breezed right past him on her way upstairs, not even acknowledging his existence. Still, Greg followed like a loyal puppy, shaking his head.

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She stopped in front of the guestroom next to Dylan’s—just across from the two rooms she was already transforming into nurseries—and flicked on the lights. The room was perfectly ordinary. Not for long.

Cammy turned to him, eyes sparkling. "Can I use this room as my sewing room?"

Greg crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway like a man preparing for a negotiation. "Okay, what’s going on in that brain of yours? You’re on a full-blown renovation rampage today."

Cammy smirked. "Follow me."

And of course, he did.

Back in the master bedroom, Cammy sat at the table and started sketching. With quick strokes, she drew a layout of the kids’ wing—four rooms in total—labeling and adjusting them as she talked out loud to herself, clearly visualizing something big.

Greg leaned over her shoulder, eyes dancing with curiosity. "Are we opening a preschool or building a fashion empire?"

Cammy glanced up and grinned. "Maybe both. Depends on how fast I can sew!"

"So," Greg said, arching an eyebrow as he leaned on the table, "what exactly is the grand plan here? And how does it tie in with the orphanage?"

Cammy’s eyes sparkled as she tapped her pen against the notepad. "Not a fashion house—yet," she teased. "But hear me out. I will design a kids’ clothing line—adorable, stylish, one-of-a-kind pieces. Then we hold a big fundraising event. The children from the orphanage will model the clothes.

We invite the press, influencers, fashion bloggers, people with money... the works! Let the whole country know about the orphanage. Who knows? Maybe someone in the crowd knows someone looking to adopt. Or maybe they’ll just fall in love with the kids and want to help. All the proceeds will of course go to the orphanage."

Greg slowly nodded, then broke into a smirk. "Okay, I love it. But I have a little upgrade for your plan."

Cammy tilted her head, curious.

"What if," he said, sitting beside her, "instead of a one-time event, you turn this into a real business? Like an actual brand. You design kids’ clothes, we sell them, and donate a portion of every sale to the orphanage.

That way, they’ll get consistent support, not just a one-off donation. Sustainable charity meets Cammy Couture."

Cammy’s face shifted instantly. The excitement in her eyes dimmed just a little, her lips forming a small pout. "A whole business? That’s huge, Babe. Don’t forget—I already have CorEx waiting for me after my community service. Plus Dylan, plus the babies. I don’t think I can juggle everything without cloning myself."

Greg chuckled, then stepped behind her and gently rubbed her shoulders. "Okay, hear me out, Superwoman," he said softly. "What if... you didn’t have to run CorEx?"

Cammy turned to look at him, puzzled.

"I mean it," Greg continued. "Let’s bring in someone capable to handle it. I’m not saying you’re not capable—far from it. But I know it’s not where your heart is.

You’ve been running on duty and legacy, not passion. CorEx was your dad’s dream, not yours. Maybe one day Dylan or one of our kids will take over. But right now? I want you to follow what lights you up."

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He squeezed her shoulders gently. "I saw you today. At the orphanage. And just now, when the idea hit you—you were glowing, Cammy. That’s the version of you I want to see every day. Not the stressed-out, exhausted one juggling a dozen things just because she feels she has to."

Cammy sat quietly, his words sinking in. Deep down, she knew he was right. She had lit up today, more than she had in a long time. Still, the weight of CorEx lingered in her chest.

"I just..." she said softly, "I want to honor my dad. CorEx is his legacy. If I let it go, it feels like I’m letting him go too."

Greg crouched in front of her and took her hands gently. "You don’t have to let it go, Babe. Just don’t let it weigh you down. You can honor your dad in so many ways—and I think he’d be proud no matter what path you choose."

Cammy gave him a small smile, her heart full and her mind spinning. Maybe... just maybe... she could do both. But on her terms.