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 stern face. "Perfect," she said simply. "Exactly what we

at her approval, 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. Yet I did. Dr. Torres detailed

by the stranger in the mirror who now wore my

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

myself reaching for the small hand mirror beside my bed, checking to see if the face I'd earlier was still there. Still

seen

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,

the darkness behind my eyelids, Dreams taking shape, vivid and

bridge, rain pouring down around me. Below, dark water churned angrily. Across from me stood Rose," her perfect face contorted with fear. Between us, a broken

e until her back

her

everything from me,"

voice cold as the rain drenching us both. "My husband. My family. My

Rose cried, genuine terror in her voice as the railing began giving way behind her. "I'll fix it! I'll make

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

the surface once, twice, then disappeared for

tangled around my legs. The dream had felt so real, the rain on my skin, the sound of the railing breaking, Rose's scream as she fell. But what disturbed

me stumbling to the bathroom, where splashed cold water on my face, my new face, before looking

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

mirror, suddenly afraid of what I saw

becoming? Someone who could dream of her

of the night. I sat by

conclusions, just 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

As James drove us

my heir at next quarter's shareholders meeting. We'll need professional portraits before then. Dr. To I nodded, only half listening, still

"Which is it?" I turned

even concern about my psychological

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