Swapping a Broken Heart for a New Start novel Chapter 32

Camila Davis listened to Lucas Smith’s mean-spirited taunts, her face turning cold.

But she didn’t let him get under her skin.

There was a time when she’d bite her tongue around the Smith family—all because she cared about Jordan Smith.

But once you stop giving a damn about something, it stops being a weakness. You find your strength.

Lucas Smith still thought she was the same old pushover, didn’t he? The doormat everyone could walk all over?

Camila let out a dry laugh and shot back, “Seriously, Lucas? You’re calling someone else a loser? Have you looked in the mirror lately? What part of you could ever compare to Jordan?”

She leaned in, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Everyone says Jordan’s a golden boy in business. You? Not even close. I used to wonder why people said that about you, but now I get it. You’re just jealous.”

She shook her head in mock pity. “You’re such a coward, Lucas. You’ve been pining for Sandra Taylor forever, sneaking around to defend her, trashing me at every turn. What, you think that makes you look heroic? Has Sandra ever even given you the time of day?”

She didn’t let up. “She picked someone else over you when she had the chance. Now she’d rather be the other woman for a married guy than even talk to you. And you’re still playing her white knight? Newsflash, you’re not the main character. You’re just the clown in someone else’s circus.”

As she spoke, her contempt was crystal clear—way worse than anything Lucas had just thrown at her.

And every single word hit Lucas right where it hurt.

He’d never imagined that Camila—the quiet, timid Camila—would ever have the guts to talk back to him like this.

He stared at her, stunned, for a few seconds before his temper snapped.

This woman—how dare she?

“Who are you calling a loser, Camila? You got a death wish or something?” he shouted, practically sputtering.

Camila just looked at him, cool as ice, her gaze full of disdain. “Look at you. You don’t even know how to make up your own mind. Calling you a loser is too kind. You’re pathetic, Lucas. Hiding in the shadows, drooling over Sandra while watching her and Jordan play house. You’ll spend your whole life living in your brother’s shadow.”

He jabbed a finger at her and snapped, “Who the hell do you think you are, lecturing me?”

Lucas had always been arrogant. Born into privilege, doted on by his family, and with enough talent to keep him near the top of the Harrisburg social scene—right behind Jordan.

People usually scrambled to stay on his good side. No one ever dared humiliate him like this.

Camila Davis was out of her damn mind.

His words got nastier, his voice rising. “And you call me pathetic? Take a look at yourself! You bent over backwards to fix Jordan, married him, slaved away at his company—did he ever even look at you? Sandra just has to pick up the phone and he comes running. He’s been staying at her place every night lately—you’ve seen it with your own eyes, haven’t you?”

He hit the mark with that one. Even though Camila told herself she didn’t care anymore, her face tightened.

Lucas saw it and suddenly felt less angry, more smug. He sneered, “Face it, Camila. You’re even more of a failure than I am. Can’t even keep your own husband interested. You’re pathetic. Just wait—Jordan’s going to dump you soon. And then I’ll get to watch you beg him not to get a divorce. I can’t wait.”

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