SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 107

The restaurant occupied the entire top floor of a Midtown hotel, overlooking Central Park. Camille arrived fifteen minutes early, a tactic Victoria

had taught her, secure the

position of power, choose your seat, control the encounter from the first moment.

She selected a corner table with her back to the wall, facing both elevators. The

host seated her with a professional smile, leaving her alone with her thoughts and a sparkling water she wouldn't drink.

Camille smoothed her navy dress, a simple design that concealed the tension in her body. The silver rose pendant Alexander had returned to her hung at her throat, a reminder of who she had been before Rose's betrayal, before Victoria's transformation.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Alexander: *Everything okay?*

She typed: *They haven't arrived yet.*

*I'm in the lobby if you need me.*

A small smile touched her lips. Alexander

hadn't questioned her decision to face her parents alone, but he'd

insisted on accompanying her to the hotel. Her shield, waiting in the background.

The elevator doors opened, and Camille's smile

vanished. Her stomach tightened into a knot.

Margaret and Richard Lewis stepped into the restaurant, looking smaller than she remembered. Her mother scanned the space, hands clutched around

her purse. Her father stood slightly behind, his shoulders rounded in a way Camille had never seen before.

They spotted her. Hesitated. Then walked toward her table with careful steps.

Camille did not stand. Did not smile. Did not offer her cheek for the kiss her mother Teaned in to give before thinking better of it.

"Camille," Margaret said, the name catching in her throat. "Thank you for, for agreeing

to meet us."

"Please," Richard gestured to the chairs. "May we sit?"

Camille nodded, her face revealing nothing. Victoria would have been proud.

They settled awkwardly, all the social

graces they'd drilled into her now useless in the face of their broken relationship.

"You look well," her mother tried. "Healthy."

"I am," Camille kept her voice neutral. "Victoria takes good care of

her investments."

Her mother flinched at the word "investments." Her father cleared his throat.

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"Camille, we..." Richard began.

"Why did you want to meet?" Camille cut him off. Direct. No small talk.

Her parents exchanged glances. Margaret nodded slightly, and Richard reached down for a leather satchel he'd placed beside his chair. He removed a flat package wrapped in blue cloth and placed it on the tab "We wanted to give you these," he said. "They're yours. They've always been

yours."

Camille didn't touch the package. "What is it?"

Margaret's eyes filled with tears. "Your journals. From when you were a girl. Before... Before Rose came."

The words hit Camille like a physical blow. Her journals. The ones

Rose had found

and read aloud mockingly. The ones that had disappeared after her "accident."

"You kept them?" Camille couldn't hide her surprise.

"We found them when we were cleaning out your old room," Richard

explained. "After your... after the news about

your car in the river. We couldn't bear to throw them away."

Camille looked at the package, still not touching it. "And now

you want to return them because you know I'm alive."

"No," Margaret shook her head, a tear spilling down her

cheek. "We want to return them

because we've read them. All of them. And we..." Her voice broke completely.

Richard covered his wife's hand with his own.

"We failed you, Camille. In ways we're only beginning to understand. Your journals, they show a pattern we were tod blind to

see."

A server approached, sensing the tension. Camille requested water for

the table and said they weren't ready to order.

the server left, she reached for the

different colors and sizes. Her childhood handwriting

asked, though she

Margaret

manipulated all of us. How we

things that weren't

one," Richard said softly.

then opened the

old self had written:

me again for making Rose feel

to the movies with me and Jenna,

told Mom I left without her on purpose. Why doesn't Mom ever believe

SMILED. Like she PLANNED

waiting in the lobby for

feeling knowing what

The

of entries like that,"

"So many times we took Rose's

are

you the truth,"

What we allowed her to

want to apologize," Margaret added. "Not because we expect forgiveness. We don't deserve

to hear

strangers who shared her blood. She

them, making them suffer for their betrayal,

Victoria had trained

for genuine remorse, for her proud

perfectly composed mother reduced to

she intended. "When I told you about her affair with

Richard admitted. "And it will haunt us for the rest of our

what

"That

such ugly truths. That our

be capable of

to kill

Her parents flinched.

we didn't know.

not asking for forgiveness, Richard

us. We know

you want, then?" Camille asked, steadier than she

Margaret reached across the

short of touching Camille's hand. Just... to know you. In whatever

your terms."

us to be

it's just distant acquaintances who meet for coffee

her childhood suffering, preserved by the very people who had failed

don't know if I can do that,"

her hand. "The journals are yours regardless. No

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Chapter 107

something adjacent to it. Recognition, perhaps, that her parents were as human and flawed as she was. That Rose had manipulated them too, in

finally. "This isn't something I can

flickered in her mother's eyes, fragile, cautious hope.

all the time you

could perhaps... meet occasionally.

voice hardened on her sister's

like this. Just to

on her parents' faces was painful to witness.

of regret, of the terrible belief that their daughter was dead,

she

despise them.

said, his voice rough with emotion. "That's more than

food

them particularly interested in eating.

the server, Camille studied them with new eyes. They had aged years in

Gray

had deepened around her mother's

When the

uncomfortable silence of people who once

saw the news about the

for neutral territory. "It's an extraordinary

herself a small bit of pride. “It will

infrastructure completely."

happy, Camille?" her

direct that it caught Camille off guard. "With Victoria? With this new

considered the question, not

to be. Happiness

now?" Richard asked

An image of Alexander

Camille's mind, his smile,

her as

there might be room for

something

You deserve that.

They

they stood

Margaret began hesitantly, "may I hug you? Just

a small nod. Her

familiar yet strange, the scent of her perfume unleashing

good and painful. The embrace

stiff, but

didn't ask for a hug, respecting the boundaries Camille had established. "Take care of

if... when you're ready."

and more fragile than the parents who had once loomed so

sat back down, her hands trembling

for

opened the green one again, flipping through