SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 185

Chapter 185

The reception stretched into the early hours, a blur of champagne toasts, dance floor laughter, and hundreds of congratulations. By three in the morning, only the hardiest guests remained, clustered in small groups on Victoria's moonlit lawn. Camille sat with her parents and a few Kane Industries board members, her wedding dress pooled around her in a cloud of ivory silk, her eyes bright despite the late hour.

Alexander touched her shoulder gently. "I need to check something in my room before we leave," he murmured. "Back in twenty minutes."

She reached up to squeeze his hand, not interrupting her conversation. The trust in her touch, the easy way she let him go, twisted in his gut. Such faith deserved matching honesty. Yet here he was, slipping away with a different purpose entirely.

The main house stood quiet, most staff having retired after serving the midnight buffet. Alexander moved through familiar hallways, loosening his bow tie with one hand, the other clutching something wrapped in tissue paper. His footsteps echoed on the marble floors as he climbed the grand staircase to the guest wing.

In his temporary room, he locked the door and dragged a chair to the antique writing desk by the window. Moonlight spilled across the polished surface as he unwrapped his package, revealing a single white lily, its petals gleaming like pearl in the silver light.

From his wallet, he withdrew a worn photograph. The image showed a middle- aged man with Alexander's jawline and eyes, gray touching his temples, standing on a sailboat deck. Richard Pierce's smile radiated from the paper – so alive, so unaware of what awaited him.

Alexander propped the photo against the desk lamp and laid the lily before it. "Hello, Uncle," he whispered, his voice thick. "I got married today."

The silence pressed around him. Outside, faint music and laughter drifted up from the remaining wedding guests.

"Her name is Camille. You would like her." Alexander loosened his collar, feeling suddenly trapped in his wedding finery. "She's strong. Determined. Kind in ways the world never deserved."

He closed his eyes, remembering his uncle's study - the smell of leather books and pipe tobacco, the sailing trophies lining cherry-wood shelves, the big desk where Richard would help him with homework after taking him in.

"She doesn't know yet. About you. About her..." He paused, unable to say "mother" in this context. "About Victoria."

The photograph stared back, Richard's eyes crinkling at the corners, forever captured in a moment of happiness before everything crumbled.

"I found the storage unit. Someone wanted me to see what happened." Alexander's fingers curled into fists on the desk. "The proof was all there - how Kane Industries targeted you. How she systematically cut you off from every lifeline. How she knew exactly what she was doing."

His voice dropped lower, barely audible even in the silent room.

"I haven't forgotten my promise to destroy whoever made you take your life."

air, heavy with eleven years of grief. Alexander had made that vow at twenty one, standing beside a fresh grave, rain sliding down his face and mixing with tears no one

married her daughter today." His laugh held no humor. "You always said life

stark against the dark wood. Richard had loved lilies - had grown them in the garden behind his brownstone. Said they reminded him of his sister, Alexander's

our life, in our home, in our future." He pressed his palms

two weeks in the Greek islands, far from New York, from Victoria, from the truth swimming beneath their marriage

to do?" Alexander whispered, touching the

just

startled him. "Alexander?" Camille's voice called. "Almost ready? The

minute," he answered, quickly gathering

that had once been his only safe

ordered this one specially, keeping it hidden among his things. Now it would travel with them, pressed

stood in the hallway, changed from her wedding gown into a cream-colored traveling suit.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

pulling her close. "Just

didn't see the photograph he'd slipped back into his wallet, didn't notice the slight bulge in his

before we leave," Camille said, linking her arm through

past twenty-four hours, he'd managed to smile at her, toast with her, thank her for the lavish wedding. Each

not keep her

the grand foyer, a silk robe wrapped around her thin frame. Despite the late hour, she looked alert, her silver hair neatly combed. Cancer treatment had taken its toll, but today's

emotions tangling into an impossible knot. This woman had saved Camille, given her a home and purpose

to him, arms outstretched. "My son,

into her embrace,

frame against

in his

of expensive perfume and the subtle medicinal scent of

patted his

care of each other," she said, releasing him. "And don't worry

doctors are

call every day," Camille