SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 8

CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW

The nightmare grabbed me by the throat, dragging me under before I could fight back.

I was standing in the rain outside a restaurant, my face pregard against cold glass, watching Rose and Stefant inside. They sat at a candlelit table, champagne glasses raised in a toast. Stefan wore the tie I'd gi Their

laughter reached me somehow, cutting through the glass barrier. They were laughing at me.

"Did you see her face?" Rose's voice echoed unnaturally lour "When she found the divorce papers? Like a stupid. puppy being abandoned at the shelter."

Stefan chuckled, pouring more champagne. "And when she realized it was you? God, I almost felt sorry for her."

"Almost," Rose agreed, her smile shark-

like. “But not quite. She made it too easy, Stef. Always so desperate to be loved. So willing to believe the lies."

They clinked glasses again. The sound transformed into breaking glass, shattering windows, car metal crumpling

The scene shifted. I was in my car, rain hammering the windshield, wipers fighting a losing battle against the downpour. My cheeks were wet- tears or rain, I couldn't tell anymore.

Headlights appeared behind me, too bright, too fast. Gaining.

I gripped the steering wheel tighter, foot pressing the accelerator. The headlights grew closer, lighting up my rearview mirror until I was blind.

Metal against metal.

I was flying, the world spinning as my car broke through the bridge railing.

The water rushed up.

I sank, I saw them standing on the bridge. Rose

someone?" my

bother?" my father replied. "She was always such

over my head, and darkness pulled me down,

I woke gasping, sheets

remember where I was. The ceiling above me was unfamiliar,

my skin like river mad. I pushed myself upright, ignoring the protest from any healing ribs, Sweat plastered by nightgown to my

ChaMer

prove to myself I wasn't drowning deep. I The marble floor was cold against my bare feet as

paper, hair wild from thrashing

to wash away the nightmare's residue. But when I closed my

escaped me, something between a laugh and

mansion owned by one of the world's wealthiest women, who wanted to adopt me because I looked like her dead

pressed my hand against my mouth, trying to hold it in, but it was too

tore through my chest.

Rose's lies. For three years of marriage to a man who'd never truly seen

pain was almost a relief, something solid to focus on instead of

"Enough."

doorway, silver hair loose around her shoulders, wrapped in a black silk robe. Her face gave nothing away, but her eyes were sharp, assess Shame burned through me. She'd offered me strength, power,