SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 25

Chapter 25

ROSE'S POINT OF VIEW

I slammed my apartment door so hard the walls shook. The sound echoed through the empty space, matching the thunder in my heart. My hands shook as I poured myself a drink, spilling expensive whiskey or "Damn you, Camille," I whispered, then screamed it: "DAMN YOU!"

The crystal glass flew from my hand,

shattering against the wall in a spray of amber liquid and broken dreams. Thirty million dollars. The Cedar Hill estate. All of it gone to those worthless foster kids.

My legs gave out and I slid to the kitchen floor, surrounded by the mess I'd made. Just like my life -

everything perfect on the surface, chaos underneath. And now Camille, sweet, stupid Camille, had managed to ruin everything even from the grave.

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" I spoke to

the empty air, imagining her ghost watching me fall apart. Little Miss Perfect with her secret fortune. Did you laugh about it? Did you enjoy knowing you had something I didn't?"

I grabbed another glass, hurled it across the room. The crash brought a sick satisfaction.

years I spent making

like a caged animal. "Making you doubt yourself. Making you think you weren't enough. And all along you were sitting on millions!" My reflection caught

not a hair out of place even in my rage. The mask I'd worn for so long it had become my

mirror.

creating

perfect daughter. The loving sister. The secret lover.

left the money to them. You figured

sent me into a fresh frenzy. I tore through the apartment like a hurricane, destroying everything in my path. Ripped designer clothes from their hangers. Overturned furniture,

glass cracked but didn't

destruction had limits. "I clawed my way out of nothing! I made myself perfect! I deserved that money more than any

both of us sailing. Both of us lying. I studied her face in the picture searching

"I didn't

papers. But you had to be stubborn, didn't you? Had to fight back. And now look what happen The Tome joined the pile of broken glass on my imported marble floors. Thousands of dollars in destroyed luxury items scattered around me

open drawers until I found what I wanted the stack of Camille's journals. The ones I'd stolen and doctored after her "death, planting false

Chapter 25

the will reading. "I leave with hope rather

forged, my handwriting a perfect match for hers. So many hours spent practicing her style, just like I'd spent years practicing being the perfect daughter, the perfect sis "You don't know what it's like," I told the journals, my voice breaking. "To have nothing. To be nothing. To know that one wrong move means going

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