SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

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Chapter 46

Rose point of view

I stared at my phone screen until the words blurred, reading the same headline for the twentieth time. "ROSE LEWIS: THE PRIVATE LIFE SHE DIDN'T WANT YOU TO SEE” Beneath it, that grainy photo of me How? How had anyone found this? I'd been so careful.

My boutique office, normally my sanctuary, felt suffocating now. Outside, I could hear my staff whispering, their usual respectful silence replaced by urgent murmurs. They'd seen the stories. Everyone had.

Three major fashion sites had dropped my spring collection Five influencers had canceled promotional contracts. Two department stores had "postponed" their orders. All within twenty- four hours.

My empire, built so carefully brick by brick, was crumbling beneath my feet.

The phone on my desk rang again. My publicity team, no doubt, with another useless strategy. I'd already released three statements, first denying everything, then suggesting the photos were manipulated, final I ignored the call, returning to my social media feeds. The comments cut like knives.

"Always knew she was fake."

"Poor Camille, no wonder she drove into that river."

"#RoseThoms is right beautiful but toxic!"

Tears stung my eyes. Not from shame, I'd never felt shame for taking what I wanted, but from rage. I'd spent years crafting the perfect image. The talented designer. The grieving sister. The devoted fiancée. All stolen moment captured on film.

The office door banged open. Stefan stood there, still wearing his work suit, face thunderous. He held his phone in a white-

knuckled grip.

"When were you going to tell me?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I stood, smoothing my skirt, forcing my face into concerned lines. "Stefan, darling. I've been

trying to reach you all day. These rumors are....”

"Not rumors." He stepped inside, slamming the door behind him. "Facts. With photographic evidence."

"It was years ago. Before us. Before..."

“Before us?” He laughed, a harsh sound I'd never heard from him. "According to the date on this photo, you were sleeping with your mentor's husband three weeks after I married your sister."

Ice slid down my spine. I hadn't noticed the timestamp. Hadn't thought anyone would look that closely.

"It wasn't serious," I tried, moving toward him. "A mistake One night that meant nothing."

avoiding my touch. "And the others?

They knew about Anton too? How much had they uncovered? Chapter

demanded, offense as defense.

destroy what we have?"

we have.” Stefan ran a hand through his hair, disheveled in a way that would normally make me want to fix it. "What exactly do we have, Rose? A relationship built on our manipulation of Camille? A future "I never lied to you," I insisted.

He stared at me like

really were during your 'year in Paris'? Because according

calculating damage, planning counterattacks. Who was doing this? Who had

what it looks like," I said, falling back

what it looks like. Not your relationship with me while I

our marriage was struggling. Not your sudden devotion

anger flaring. "I loved Camille. Her

moved closer, eyes searching mine. "Because keep remembering your face that night. When they told us her car went off that bridge. You didn't look surprised, Rose. You looked... relieved." My heart stuttered. Had he noticed? Had he seen through my performance

absurd. Grief affects people differently. You know

slowly, "is that I'm beginning to wonder if I ever knew you

before I could respond. This time

in the threshold, my mother's eyes red- rimmed, my father's face

voice, usually so warm when

cold. "We

in my small office now, the walls closing in. I'd faced criticism before, weathered minor scandals, but never this coordinated attack from all

you can see.

I said, desperation leaking into my voice. "I'm

what you call sleeping with a married man while you were studying? Is that what you call lying about where you were during your 'fashi laugh was sharp, almost cruel. “That's not even the worst part. The worst part is that while I was being cold to Camille, having love

you were busy messing around with

his voice shocked me. The betrayal in his eyes cut deeper than my parents' disappointment. He truly had been waiting for me, just as I'd planned. But now be knew I hadn't

on some Russian's yacht? In some lord worst husband imaginable to

about you, missing bed?" His voice broke slightly. "You

having fun?"

sides. My mother had always been my strongest advocate, always taken my side against Camille, against

would

photos are being taken out of

through her phone, cach swipe revealing another damning image. Me with Jonathan at a private dinner.

career," I said, drawing myself

don't pretend to be working in Paris while lounging

claiming

this way, had always accepted my explanations, my

sliced through my shock. "Because the daughter we thought we knew wouldn't behave this

your own blood! The daughter you let get away with everything because she was so special, so tal My voice had risen to a shout, years of resentment fueling my words. Yes, they'd chosen me, favored me, but always with conditions. Always

my desk, hurling it against the wall. Water and flowers sprayed across my design sketches, ruining weeks of work. "My entire