SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Camille's point of view

By four o'clock, my brain felt stuffed with French conjugations and pronunciation corrections. My third coffee of the day wasn't helping the shaking in my hands.

Mrs. Harrington, the etiquette coach, noticed immediately. A lady never allows fatigue to show," she reprimanded, straightening my already-

straight spine.

"Shoulders back. Chin parallel to the floor. Now, let's review the proper handling of difficult dinner conversations."

For two more hours, we practiced responding to inappropriate questions, managing awkward silences, and the subtle art of steering conversations toward or away from specific topics. All skills Victoria deemed When James finally drove me back to the mansion at six, I had exactly forty-

five minutes to prepare for dinner with the board

members. My head pounded. Black spots danced at the edges

of my vision. The thought of making small talk with twelve stern executives made me want to curl into a ball and disappear.

Instead, I changed into the evening dress laid out for me, an elegant black Dior that probably cost more than most people's monthly salary. The stylist had left detailed notes about which jewelry to wear and how Looking in the mirror, I barely recognized the sophisticated woman staring back at me. Designer dress. Perfect makeup. Expensive jewelry. I looked like I belonged in Victoria's world of wealth and power. But inside, I felt hollowed out. Empty. A pretty shell with nothing left inside.

My knees buckled suddenly, room

spinning around me. I grabbed the vanity for support, but my arms gave way. The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was my reflection sliding sideways in the mirror, eyes closing as consciousness slij

I woke to softness beneath me and the sensation of something cool on my forehead. Opening my eyes slowly, I found myself on my bed, still in the black dress, though someone had removed my shoes.

"The third time this week," Victoria's voice came from nearby. "Your body is telling you something."

I turned my head to find her sitting in a chair

beside my bed, reading glasses perched on her nose as she reviewed documents. She didn't look up.

it?" I croaked,

when you didn't come down for

of whatever she was reading. "I sent your regrets to the board. We'll

her glasses. "For what? Having physical limitations? That's not

to sit

"The dinner

to attend." She set aside her papers. "Which raises a question about your training

mornings? I couldn't imagine how my schedule could

are you doing this to me?" The question slipped out before I could stop it, raw and honest in a way I hadn't allowed myself to be since accepting

offended. If anything, she looked like she'd been expecting the

one becomes powerful by being comfortable, she said,

even my

gardens, silver hair gleaming in the moonlight filtering through

"When I was twenty-

jobs while

for two years. Collapsed twice

to face me. "By twenty five, I'd built my first company.

sustainable," I protested. "I can't

can't," she interrupted. "That's precisely

at her,

lie," she explained. "Most people never discover their actual capacity

you more than facts and skills. It's shown you

enduring such

We've established your baseline. From tomorrow, your schedule will

flooded through me. "Fewer

classroom time." She handed me a glass of water from the bedside table. "Your body needs recovery time to strengthen. Your mind needs space to

over the rim of the glass.

anticipated it," she acknowledged. "Just as I anticipate your ability to adapt to what

"Which is?"

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