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.

that prospect,

corridors, pursued by shadows with piercing gray eyes. Dreams where I stood before mirrors that reflected not my current face but the turned to face him, only to find myself waking with

darkness of my rooni.

day ahead, but more than I'd expected given th I showered again,

No trace remained of

empire, the instrument of justice. ag Yet as

scanning reports on her tablet. "Your debut is being hailed as the social event of the season. Several publications are already speculating "And Pierce?" I asked, unable to keep the question contained any longer. "Any mention of our interaction?" Victoria's eyes flicked up to mine, assessing. "Nothing specific. Though the business press notes his u an

full attention, a rare

question. An observation that

seems worthy of preoccupation." "Yes," Victoria agreed, studying me with the penetrating gaze that always made

11

old Camille, easily swayed by attention from confident men. "There was something familiar about him," I said finally. Not that I've met

remained unreadable, but I sensed a shift in her

saw through the surface," I tried to explain. "Not just

my own ears, mystical rather than strategic, emotional rather

she seemed to consider it carefully, fingers tapping a slow

moment. "It's part of what makes him dangerous.

overlooked the front drive where her car waited. "Whatever connection you feel, whatever recognition you sensed, remember that it serves his purposes, not yours. Not

have revealed even that much vulnerability. "I'm

we've b She gathered her things, preparing to depart for the office. The security team will have a complete dossier on his recent activities by this afternoon. Until then, proceed with

once.

focus. Yet beneath the professional exterior I maintained, thoughts of Alexander Pierce con