CHAPTER 62 Why Camila?

　　Blake Ward slammed the door behind him, his footsteps echoing through the empty foyer of his lavish apartment. The silence was a stark contrast to the laughter and warmth that once filled the space, Camila's presence lingering like a ghost in every corner.

　　"Damn it," he muttered, running a hand through his perfectly styled blond hair. His green eyes, usually so sharp and self-assured, now dulled with grief as they scanned the room. "This place is dead without her."

　　He leaned against the cool wall, letting out a deep sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his broken heart. Blake couldn't help but notice how the intricately carved side table, where they'd tossed their keys in unison at the end of each day, stood abandoned. It was a cruel reminder of the routine they had built together- a routine that now felt like a distant memory.