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?

critical eyes. Then, something rare happened, she smiled. A genuine expression of approval that transformed her usually

suppress. I shouldn't crave her validation this way. Shouldn't feel this rush of pleasure at

ear, still captivated by the stranger in the mirror

and Dr. Torres had gone, I sat alone in the

checking to see if the face I'd earlier was still

seen

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

eyelids, Dreams taking shape, vivid

water churned angrily. Across from me stood Rose," her perfect face contorted with fear. Between

e until her back

my new face reflected in her terrified eyes. She kept retreating hit the damaged

everything

as the rain drenching

Rose cried, genuine terror in her voice as the railing began giving way behind

fell backward, hands grasping empty air. I watched her plummet toward the dark water below, her scream cutting off

smiled, satisfied, as Rose's hands broke the surface once, twice, then disappeared

skin, the sound of the railing breaking, Rose's

before

the swelling, the bruises fading to yellow. Something in my eyes had changed too. Something harder, colder. Something that had watched

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

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

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

As James drove us

shareholders meeting. We'll need professional portraits before then. Dr. To I nodded, only half listening, still caught in

turned from the window to face her. "I had a dream

judgment, perhaps even concern about my psychological state.

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