SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 75

Rose slammed her apartment door with such force that a framed photo crashed to the floor, glass shattering across the marble entryway. She didn't bother to pick it up. Instead, she kicked off her heels, sending the pristine white carpet.

She didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore.

Her hands shook as she poured herself a drink, missing the glass entirely on the first try. Amber liquid pooled on the counter, but she ignored it, finally managing to fill the tumbler on her second attempt. She dra "She's alive," Rose whispered, her voice raspy and strange to her own ears. "All this time... she's been alive."

The reality of what had happened at the gala crashed over her in waves. Camille, her pathetic, weak, doormat of a sister, had orchestrated her downfall. Camille, who had always been the good daughter, the pe Rose hurled her empty glass across the living room where it exploded against the wall, leaving a dark stain on the cream-

colored paint like a Rorschach test of her rage.

"AAAGGHH!" The scream that tore from her throat sounded animal, primal. Rose grabbed the nearest object, a glass paperweight, and smashed it into the mirror above her fireplace. Her reflection fractured into

Better. That felt better.

She moved through her apartment like a tornado, destroying everything in her path. Photo frames, vases, dishes, all shattered against walls, floors, windows. She tore designer clothes from her closet, ripping fa thousands, snapping heels off shoes, pulling jewelry apart until beads and gems scattered across the floor like tiny marbles.

When she reached the bedroom, she froze. There on the nightstand sat a photo of her and Stefan, happy, smiling, victorious. She had won him. She had taken him from Camille. He was supposed to be her priz Rose lifted the frame with trembling fingers. Stefan's face stared

back at her, the face

she had desired for so long, the man who had been part of her meticulous plan.

"You let her do this to us," she hissed at his image. "You coward. You stood there and let her destroy everything!" She smashed

the frame against the edge of the marble nightstand, glass cutting into her palm. Blood dripped onto the photo, staining his face red. Perfect. That's what he deserved.

Rose sank onto the edge of her bed, suddenly exhausted. Her anger momentarily gave way to the crushing weight of what she had lost. Her business. Her reputation. Stefan. Even her place in the Lewis family She had spent years carefully building this life, crafting her image, positioning herself at

the top of New York society. And in one night, Camille had taken it all away.

her chest, a sob rising

her. She had fought her way into the

hadn't destroyed. Inside was a

Chapter 75

She had always been prepared for disaster, always had a backup plan. That's how she had

going to

but she paid it no mind as she turned

words from the gala.

shock was wearing off now,

had help, that much was obvious. Victoria Kane. The powerful billionaire had taken Camille in, trained her, given

harsh sound

who you are now, Camille? Victoria Kane's pet project? Her weapon against me?" She

found her laptop buried under a pile of shredded documents and opened it. First, she needed to understand how bad the damage was. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she checked news

nothing

on a

yes, but not untouchable. Everyone had weaknesses.

Including Camille.

11

had faked her death. There would be legal implications to that. Insurance fraud, perhaps? And what about Victoria's role in the deception? There had to be something She pulled out a notebook and began to write, ignoring the blood that occasionally smeared the page. She listed everyone connected to Camille and Victoria. She noted possible vulnerabilities, potential allies. S

her mind was clear.

She stood and

looked like a war zone, which was fitting,

looked out

rise behind the skyscrapers. Somewhere out

victory,

everything from me. Now I'm going to

Chapter 75

a cold calm settling over her. The initial storm of rage had passed,

broken glass and torn fabric without backward glance. She needed a