CHAPTER 67: SMILE

Chapter 67

Cameron

Lenora reacted to seeing the elephants like a teenage girl meeting her favorite idol group — wide-eyed, breathless, completely awestruck.

She’d been leaning so far over the side of the truck I half expected I’d have to grab her by the waist to stop her from trying to climb out. Her hand was stretched toward them, trembling slightly, like she thought if she reached just a little farther, she could bridge the impossible space between human and wild.

The smile on her face... I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that before. This one was unguarded, pure — and it did something to me.

The elephants barely spared us a glance, too busy shifting their massive bodies and flapping their ears in that lazy, rhythmic way.

I think to myself, this — this right here — is the reason I have my immense wealth and money. Not the houses, not the cars, not the carefully calculated investments.

It’s for this.

For her.

For the smile on her face right now, so bright it could rival the sun overhead.

*

We return to the lodge just as the sun dips low, the sky painted in streaks of gold and crimson. Lenora is still practically vibrating beside me, replaying every moment of the elephants, the giraffes, the zebras — her words tumbling over each other like she’s afraid she’ll forget them if she doesn’t say them fast enough.

The scent of woodsmoke and spiced stew greets us before we even reach the open-air dining area. The tables are set beneath a thatched roof, lanterns swaying gently in the evening breeze. It’s the kind of setting travel magazines would spend hours trying to capture — and still fail.

One of the staff sets down a large platter between us, the steam curling up to reveal an earthy, comforting aroma. There’s a round, pale mound of what I recognize instantly — nshima, the staple of this region — alongside bowls of slow-cooked meat and vegetable stew.

"And how do I eat this?" Lenora asks, wide-eyed, leaning toward a smiling lodge manager who’s stopped by to greet us.

"Simple," he says warmly, picking up a piece himself. "You just roll it into a ball like so" — he demonstrates with practiced ease — "and dip in the meat, or vegetables, or both. Then... have at it."

Lenora imitates him, a little awkward at first, but she gets the shape right. She dips it into the stew, brings it to her mouth — and her eyes flutter shut.

"Oh my goddess, this tastes amazing," she moans, and it’s not a polite little hum either.

It goes straight to my dick.

Okay. That’s enough of that.

I push my chair back with more force than necessary, standing up under the pretense of stretching. Lenora doesn’t notice — she’s too busy dipping for more, already converting Ronan with her enthusiasm. Simone has wandered off, no doubt exploring every artisan stall within walking distance. This lodge is basically a treasure trove for her — leather goods, beadwork, carved trinkets — she might never leave.

"Mr. Anderson, a pleasure as always," the lodge manager says as he strolls over to me, his smile genuine.

I return it without hesitation. "No, thank you, for the impeccable service and hospitality."

He waves it off like it’s nothing, but there’s weight in his words when he replies, "Please... it’s the least we can do, to repay even a fraction of what your donations have done for us."

"I noticed there were more men stationed around the reserve than last time," I say casually, though my eyes are sharp.

The manager exhales slowly, the kind of sound that carries both fatigue and quiet frustration. "Poachers," he says, voice low. "As the economy worsens, we’ve been getting more and more of them. We had to increase security."

My brows draw together. "Poachers?"

He nods grimly. "Unfortunately, it’s taking a toll. They come for the ivory, the horns, the skins... the most lucrative by far is the ivory."

"Ivory?" My voice is tight now. "As in elephants?"

"Yes." His tone is weighted, resigned. "Elephants."

I glance over my shoulder. Lenora is laughing with Ronan, holding out a piece of food like she’s trying to convert him to her new favorite food. She has no idea. And if she did? The knowledge would shatter her.

The idea of anyone hurting her elephants makes my jaw clench hard enough to ache.

"What are your plans to fight this?" I ask. "To reduce it? If there’s a way I can help, tell me."

I nod, but inside, my thoughts are elsewhere.

Last time, I donated because the service was excellent, and because my reputation is built partly on environmental charity work. Simone’s made it a yearly thing.

But this... this is different.

Targeting elephants? Her elephants?

Absolutely not.

Honestly, those numbers in my accounts are just sitting there, multiplying without purpose. If they can buy bullets for rangers, drones for surveillance, anything to stop this — then it’s not a donation. It’s an investment.

One I’ll make without hesitation.

If I have to fund an entire anti-poaching unit myself, I will.

*

I finish my conversation with the manager — or more accurately, I instruct him to prepare a detailed presentation of his anti-poaching strategies for the week we’re here.

Just because I intend to help doesn’t mean I’ll throw money blindly into a hole. There needs to be a valid, actionable plan. Something measurable. Something that works.

Once he nods and excuses himself, I make my way back to the table. Lenora is still happily demolishing her meal, chatting between bites with the staff about flavor combinations like she’s been here all her life.

"Come here, join me," she says, nudging her plate toward me like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

I sit, leaning in, and scoop a handful without hesitation.

Her eyes narrow immediately, suspicious. "Wait... how do you know how to do that?" she demands, almost accusingly, as if I’ve been keeping a delicious secret from her.

I smirk. "I’ve been here before, remember? I would never forgot how to eat."

She huffs in mock offense, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips.

I take another bite, mostly because watching her eat is distracting. She closes her eyes briefly with each mouthful, savoring the taste like it’s something rare and precious. I have something she can savor too.