SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 182

The car rolled up the long driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tires. Alexander sat motionless in the passenger seat, his face a mask as he stared at the mansion ahead. Camille drove, giving him the freedom to absorb the sight of his childhood home after seven years away.

"We can still turn around," she said softly.

Alexander shook his head. "No. I need to do this."

The Pierce estate stood proud against the autumn sky, all gray stone and tall windows. A place built to show wealth, not to give warmth. Two figures waited on the wide front steps, Eleanor and Edward Pierce, standing close yet somehow apart.

"They look nervous," Camille observed.

"Good." Alexander straightened his tie, a gesture Camille recognized as his way of gathering strength. "They should be."

She parked near the entrance, turning off the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy.

"Remember," she said, taking his hand. "Whatever happens in there, I'm with you."

Alexander's fingers tightened around hers. "The last time I walked out these doors, I was nineteen and they told me not to come back until I 'saw reason.' Until I stopped 'slandering' my brother."

The bitterness in his voice made Camille ache for the young man he'd been, wounded, betrayed, alone.

"Let's go," he said, opening his door before she could respond.

The air smelled of cut grass and autumn leaves as they walked toward the house. Eleanor took a half-step forward, then stopped, her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles shone white. Edward stood rigid, his face unreadable beneath his silver hair.

"Alexander," Eleanor said, her voice trembling slightly. "Thank you for coming."

Alexander gave a curt nod, offering nothing more.

"Please, come inside," Edward said, his deep voice less steady than Camille had expected.

Alexander took her hand as they followed his parents into the house. The entrance hall loomed vast and cold, marble floors and high ceilings creating an echo chamber. Family portraits lined the walls, generations of Pierces staring down with identical blue eyes. Camille noticed the most recent portrait, a younger Alexander standing behind his seated parents, James at their side. Alexander's eyes lingered on it as they passed.

"We can sit in the library," Eleanor suggested, leading them down a hallway.

The library felt warmer than the rest of the house, lined with books from floor to ceiling. A fire burned in the massive stone fireplace, casting dancing shadows on leather chairs and heavy wooden tables. It looked like a room where people might actually live, not just exist for show.

"You've kept it the same," Alexander said, the first words he'd spoken since entering.

Eleanor nodded. "It was always your favorite room."

Alexander moved to the window, looking out at the manicured gardens. His shoulders were tense under his tailored suit.

"Would you like something to drink?" Edward asked, moving to a sideboard where crystal decanters gleamed in the firelight.

"No." Alexander turned to face his parents. "I didn't come here to pretend this is a social visit."

Edward's hand paused above a decanter. Eleanor sank into a chair, her eyes never leaving her son's face.

because we have things that need saying. Things that are

the door, giving Alexander space while remaining close enough for support. This was his battle, his

moved away from the drinks, standing behind his wife's chair. "Son, we know words aren't enough. What

here you are, asking

asking," Eleanor corrected. "Not expecting. Just...

harsh sound that filled the quiet room. "Seven years of silence, then four

Edward said, his voice cracking slightly. "We chose to believe what was easier, not what was true. We failed you

Alexander agreed. "You

the window, walking the perimeter of the room.

a small bronze sailing trophy tucked

still have this," he said, surprise

Eleanor said. "Your trophies, your school reports,

make you feel better?" Alexander's hardness returned. "Collecting mementos of the son

"We deserve that.

Alexander agreed again. "You

someone else. "Do you know what I've accomplished since I walked out of this

Neither parent answered.

determination." Alexander's

"We tried to reach out after James died.

drunk again, just like the night of our accident. After he died." He set the trophy down harder than

When James died, the truth hit us like

time. Not when your reaching out felt like second place. Always

blame you for shutting us out. We earned

fireplace, watching the flames. "Did he tell you before the crash? That he was driving that night years ago? That he was drunk

been carrying that guilt for years. He said he'd tried to tell you

Alexander confirmed, his back still to them. "I sent him away. Told him it was too

he died," Edward said quietly. "And we finally understood

feel? To know you'd chosen the wrong son? To know your golden boy had been lying all

approached his son. "Like dying every day. Like knowing we'd

father approach, his

you to know that we've lived with our mista every day since James died. That we would give anything, anything, to go back and

can't," Alexander

Edward's shoulders

crackling fire. Camille watched the three of them,

my own judgment when everyone told me I

I found people who believe in me. Who stand by me

grateful for that," Eleanor said, looking at Camille

to a leather

didn't come

remained still, barely breathing, as if afraid

quiet. "But I think..... I think I

on Eleanor's face was painful to witness. "That's more than we

Alexander agreed. "It

about your life, your work? Your wedding