SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 3

ROSE'S POINT OF VIEW

I swirled the champagne in my crystal flute, watching the bubbles dance. Victory tasted sweet, just like I'd imagined all these years. The living room of my penthouse apartment overlooked the city where I'd spent twenty years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter, the loving sister, the supportive friend.

What a joke.

"To freedom," I whispered to my reflection in the window. The woman staring back at me smiled, perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect lies. Just like always.

My phone buzzed again. Another missed call from Stefan. He'd been calling non- stop since Camille walked out, probably worried I'd change my mind now that everything was in the open. Poor, predictable Stefan. Still thinking he was in control of any of this.

I kicked off my Louboutins and sank into the leather couch, letting memories wash over me like warm wine.

The first time I saw Camille Lewis, I hated her.

I was thirteen, fresh out of foster care, desperate to please my new parents. They'd brought me to this massive house with its manicured lawn and marble floors, promising me a fresh start. A real family.

Then this skinny thing with braces and messy hair came bouncing down the stairs, all eager smiles and innocent eyes.

"Hi! I'm Camille. I've always wanted a sister!"

She hugged me right there in the foyer, not caring that my clothes were

secondhand or that I smelled like the group home's industrial detergent. Just pure, genuine joy at having a sister.

I wanted to vomit.

Because there she was, this awkward, imperfect girl who had everything I'd spent thirteen years dreaming about. Parents who actually wanted her. A home she belonged in. A future secured by the Lewis family name.

she didn't even appreciate it

that first night, watched how she slouched in her chair and talked with her mouth full. How

Mom..... had said, smiling at me. "Perhaps you

first crack in Camille's perfect world. The

It was beautiful.

lit up my screen, his

"Darling, you're being needy."

been drinking? "She's gone. Really gone. Blocked my number, cleaned out her

we wanted?" I kept my voice gentle, soothing. The same tone I'd used all those times I'd counseled Camille through

the way she looked

let steel edge into my sweetness. "Are you having second thoughts? After everything we've been

not. I love you. I've always loved

stop calling me about

weak. Even Stefan, who I'd spent four years grooming before pushing

Just like

my eye, my adoption day. I stood in the center, of course. Always the center. Camille pushed to the edge of the frame, trying so hard

had been easy.

was unstable. A few concerned conversations with Mom about how worried I was about my dear sister's emotional state. Casual mentions to Dad about how Camille seemed to be struggling

groundwork, positioning myself as the responsible daughter, the achievable dream, while slowly crushing Camille's confidence, her

was particularly inspired, if I do say so myself. All it took was one tearful conversation with Mom about finding Camille's "secret" diary,

their precious younger daughter wasn't ready for college. Needed time to "find herself." Needed to

I could watch

was what I'd really wanted all along. Not Stefan, he was just a useful pawn. Not the Lewis fortune,

I wanted was to watch perfect, precious Camille finally break. To see her realize that everything she thought she had family,

phone buzzed with a text from Mom: "Rose, darling, please come over. Your father and I need to talk about what

confusion, the reluctant confession about Stefan's pursuit, the gentle