SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 14

Camille's point of view

Victoria watched with unreadable eyes as Dr. Torres led me to the large bathroom. A white cloth covered the full-

length mirror. The doctor positioned me carefully, standing slightly behind my right shoulder.

"Remember," she said gently, "what you see today is still healing. There's swelling, bruising. The final results. won't be visible for weeks. But you'll get a first impression of your new appearance."

With that, she pulled away the cloth.

I gasped.

The woman in the mirror was me, but not me. My face but enhanced in ways that transformed my entire appearance. My cheekbones cast elegant shadows beneath them, giving my face a sculpted quality it ha Even through residual swelling and

faint bruising, I could see the changes Dr. Torres had created. Subtle Individually, powerful collectively. My lips had a new definition, not obviously augmented but somehow more present. My nose, always slight a perfect straight bridge.

I raised a hand to my face, watching my reflection do the same. The stranger in the mirror touched her cheek with trembling fingers.

"What do you think?" Dr. Torres asked quietly.

Words failed me. This new face looked.. strong. Confident. The kind of face that belonged on magazine covers or in boardrooms. The kind of face people remembered.

"It's..." I swallowed hard. "I hardly recognize myself."

"That's partly the swelling," Dr. Torres assured me. "And partly the shock of change. Your brain needs time to adjust to the new image. In a few

weeks, this will feel like you. The real you."

But which me was real? The woman I'd been before, or this new creation designed for power?

stepped forward, studying my reflection with critical eyes. Then, something rare happened, she smiled. A genuine expression of approval that transformed her usually stern face. "Perfect,"

a feeling I immediately tried to suppress. I shouldn't crave her validation this way. Shouldn't feel this rush of pleasure at her acceptance.

listened with half an ear, still captivated by the stranger in the mirror who now wore

alone in the recovery suite, lights dimmed as evening fell. Every

for the small hand mirror beside my bed, checking to see

seen

time, those new eyes looked back at me, harder, sharper, more penetrating than the eyes I'd known all my life. Eyes that no longer pleaded for love or acceptance. Eyes that demanded respect. As night deepened, exhaustion finally pulled me toward sleep. But as consciousness faded,

eyelids, Dreams taking shape,

water churned angrily. Across from me stood Rose," her perfect face contorted with fear. Between us, a broken railing gaped like an open mouth. "Please," Rose begged, backing away from me. "Camille, please, it wasn't supposed to happen like

e until her back

in her terrified

took everything

said, voice cold as the rain drenching us

her voice as the railing began giving way behind her. "I'll fix it! I'll make

her plummet toward the dark water below, her scream cutting off as she hit the surface and dis 1 should have felt horror. Should

hands broke the

rain on my skin, the sound of the railing breaking, Rose's scream as she fell. But

face, before looking up at my reflection in the mirror. In the harsh

of the surgical changes, the swelling, the bruises fading to yellow. Something in my eyes had

from the mirror, suddenly afraid of what I saw there. Not the physical changes, but the transformation

could dream of her own sister's death and feel pleasure

me for the rest of the night. I

a dull acceptance that something fundamental was shifting within me. Something that might be Two more days passed in the recovery suite before Victoria declared it time to return to the mansion. The bruising had faded enough to be covered by makeup, the swelling reduced to subtle puffiness only

As James drove us

her tablet. "The board wants to officially announce you as my heir at next quarter's shareholders meeting. We'll need professional

suggests either disinterest or distraction," Victoria observed, setting aside her tablet. "Which is it?" I turned from the window to face

judgment, perhaps even concern about my psychological