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.

even appreciate it

slouched in her chair and talked with her mouth full. How

has such lovely manners," Mrs. Lewis.... Mom..... had said, smiling

saw it. The first crack in Camille's perfect world. The slight dimming of

It was beautiful.

phone buzzed again, pulling me back to the present. Stefan's face lit up my screen, his fifth call in an hour. With a sigh,

"Darling, you're being needy."

he been drinking? "She's gone. Really gone. Blocked

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

way

into my sweetness. "Are you having second thoughts?

course not. I love you. I've always

calling me about your ex-wife. It's

hung up, tossing the phone aside. Men were so predictably weak. Even Stefan, who

he'd served his purpose. Just like everyone

of course. Always the center. Camille pushed

had been easy. Almost

Camille 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

achievable dream, while slowly crushing Camille's confidence, her relationships, her sense of

college rejection was particularly inspired, if I do say so myself. All it took was one tearful conversation with Mom about finding Camille's "secret" diary, filled with dark thoughts and destructive plans. Plans I'd written myself,

for college. Needed time to "find herself." Needed

could watch

really wanted all along. Not Stefan, he was just a useful pawn.

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

text from Mom: "Rose, darling, please come over. Your father and I

performance. The tearful confusion, the reluctant confession about