SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Camille's point of view

Everyone else saw what I wanted them to see. What Victoria had crafted me to show. Alexander Pierce had somehow looked past all of that to the woman beneath, the woman I thought was safely buried. I showered, letting hot water wash away the last traces of tonight's performance, then changed into silk pajamas and

moved to the sitting area of my suite. Sleep would be impossible with my mind in such turmoil. Instead, I poured a small glass of bourbon from the decanter on my side table, a habit adopted from Victoria, and overlooking the grounds.

The estate spread below me, perfectly manicured gardens now shadowed in moonlight, security lights marking the perimeter in the distance. Beyond the gates, the city gloved against the night sky, millions of liv "I suspect we'll be seeing more of each other, Ms. Kane."

His words played in my mind, the confidence in them suggesting he'd already decided our paths would cros again. Not a hope or a plan, but a certainty. As if he knew something about the future that I didn't. The bourbon warmed my throat as I sipped it, the expensive liquor tasting of oak and vanilla and something deeper, something that reminded me of how Pierce had smelled standing close to me, expensive col with notes of cedar and leather underlying it.

I frowned, annoyed at myself for noticing such details, for remembering them, for finding them pleasant rather than irrelevant. Victoria had trained me better than this. Physical reactions were to be noted, cataloged, and dismissed if they served no strategic purpose.

And yet.

And yet, something about Alexander Pierce had awakened feelings I thought dead along with Camille Lewis. Not romantic interest, nothing so simple or benign. More a deep- seated curiosity, a pull toward something or someone who presented a genuine mystery in a world I'd come to understand as ruled by patterns and calculations.

My phone buzzed softly on the table beside me. A message from Victoria: "Security briefing, 7 AM, Research team gathering information on Pierce. Sleep if you can.

The clinical tone was typical of her, emotions relegated to background noise against the forward march of strategic planning. I sent back a simple acknowledgment, then set the phone aside, returning my attenti What would Alexander Pierce do next? The question demanded

consideration. If he truly believed I was Camille Lewis, resurrected and transformed, what purpose would that knowledge serve for him? Leverage against Victoria, perhaps? A business advantage of some kind Or was his interest more personal? I'd caught something in his expression beyond mere strategic calculation. A curiosity that mirrored my own, perhaps. An interest that transcended whatever game he might be His words was it a promise, or was it a threat? lingered in my mind as I finished my bourbon and prepared for bed. Sleep would be difficult to find tonight, but tomorrow would demand full focus. Victoria would ha strategy against whatever threat Pierce presented She always did.

As I slid between silk sheets, my mind refused to quiet, images from the evening playing behind closed eyelids. The glittering ballroom. The assessing eyes of the social elige. Victoria's carefully orchestrated int And Alexander Pierce, looking at me with those penetrating gray eyes, seeing what no one else had managed to see beneath the careful construction of Camille Kane.

felt at that prospect, or something dangerously close

dreams where I ran through endless corridors, pursued by shadows with piercing gray eyes. Dreams where I stood before mirrors that reflected

darkness of my rooni.

I'd expected given th I showered again, dressed in the power suit laid out by my stylist, applied makeup with practiced precision. Each action a step in the daily transformation from private self to public persona. By the time I

No trace remained of

plagued me through the night. No hint of the dreams that had disturbed my sleep. Just the woman Victoria had created, the heir to her empire, the instrument of justice. ag Yet as I

the season. Several publications are already speculating "And Pierce?" I asked, unable to keep the question contained any

down her tablet, giving me her full attention, a rare

An

keeping my voice neutral. "Identified me despite all our precautions. That seems worthy of preoccupation." "Yes," Victoria agreed, studying

11

articulate the strange pull I'd felt toward Pierce without sounding foolish. Without sounding like the old Camille, easily swayed by attention from confident men. "There was something familiar about him," I said finally.

remained unreadable, but I sensed a shift in her attention, a sharpening of

through the surface," I tried to explain. "Not just suspecting I might be Camille Lewis, but... seeing me. The

rather than strategic, emotional rather than calculated. Everything Victoria

Instead, she seemed to consider it carefully, fingers tapping

moment. "It's part of what makes him dangerous. He sees patterns others miss,

window that overlooked the front drive where her car waited. "Whatever connection you feel, whatever recognition

course," I agreed quickly, embarrassed to have revealed even that much

office. The security team will have a complete dossier on his recent activities by this afternoon. Until then, proceed with today's schedule as planned. The Tec With that, she was gone, leaving me

once.

of Kane Industries demanding complete focus. Yet beneath the professional exterior I maintained, thoughts of