Chapter 13
CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW the
"Hold still, please."
Dr. Miranda Torres's gloved fingers touched my chin, turning my face gently to catch the light. Her dark eyes
studied every curve and angle with the focus of an artist examining marble before the first chisel strike.
We sat in her private clinic, a discreet facility hidden behind unmarked doors in a luxury Manhattan building. The
consultation room looked more like an upscale spa than a medical office, with soft lighting, exper single diploma
on display. The credentials were understood, not advertised. Dr. Torres didn't need wall decorations to prove her
expertise, her client list of celebrities, politicians, and billionaires spoke for itself. " 1 glanced at Victoria, who sat
in a leather chair in the corner, tablet in hand, seemingly absorbed in emails but missing nothing.
"What exactly will you be doing?" | asked, trying to keep the nervousness from my voice.
Dr. Torres touched a screen on her desk, and a 3D model of my face appeared on the wall display. | stared at the
digital version of myself, theI'd been living with for the past five weeks of Victoria's transformation program.
"We're not planning a complete overhaul," Dr. Torres explained, manipulating the image with practiced gestures.
"That would be obvious, unnatural, and frankly, unnecessary. Instead, w "Your cheekbones, for instance," she
continued. "Already well-
defined, but we can enhance them slightly
to create more tic shadows." The digital face shifted, the cheeks becoming more sculpted. "It changes how
light hits your face, how others perceive your strength."
Victoria finally looked up. "Show the jaw adjustment as well."
Dr. Torres nodded, manipulating the image again. My jawline becslightly more defined, stronger.
"The goal isn't disguise," the doctor said, eyes meeting mine directly. "It's transformation. We're not erasing you,
we're amplifying your power. People
see what they expect
to see, and no one looking for a victim will recognize a queen."
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The words hit something deep inside me. No one looking for a victim will recognize a queen. Wasn't that exactly
what Victoria had been teachingthese past weeks? That power cnot just from wealth or "What about
recovery time?" | asked, surprising myself with how clinical my own voice sounded. When had | started accepting
this
as necessary rather than extreme?
"Two weeks for the Initial healing. Six weeks before you're camera ready for close-
ups. We'll use minimally Invasive techniques, fillers, fat transfers, thread lifts, and only minor surgical
interventions."
She turned back to the display, continuing her overview. "Sabtle refinement of the nose bridge. Enhancement of
the lips, not overfilled, just a slight increase in definition. row lift to open the eyes. And we'll adjust
+25 BONU
Chapter 13
slightly."
| watched my digital face transform bit by bit. Each change was small, almost imperceptible on its own. Together,
they created someone new, someone who looked likebut somehow... more. Stronger. Sharper. A face that
commanded attention rather than sought approval.
"When can you begin?" Victoria asked, setting aside her tablet.
Dr. Torres checked her calendar. "I've already cleared my schedule for tomorrow morning. Assuming blood work
comes back normal today, we can proceed at 7 AM."
Tomorrow. So soon. My heart rate increased, a flicker of panic rising in my chest. This was happening. Really
happening. Not just new clothes or a different hairstyle, but physical changes to my very face. Victoria must
have noticed my reaction. "Do you need more tto consider?" Her tone was neutral, but | recognized the test
beneath the question. Was | still committed? Still willing to do whatever necessary t | met her gaze steadily.
NO, Tomorrow is fine
Dr. Torres nodded, pleased. "Excellent. My nurse will draw blood now, and I'll provide detailed pre- operative
instructions. No food after midnight, no alcohol for 24 hours before, no aspirin or anti- inflammatories for a week.
She rose from her chair, signaling the consultation was ending. "One more thing, Ms. Kane," she added, using my
new nwith practiced ease. This transformation is as much psychological
as physical. The woman you'll see in the mirror afterward will look different, yes, but how you carry her, how you
embody her, that's what truly changes how the world sees you."
After blood draws and paperwork, James drove us back to Victoria's
mansion in silence. | stared out the window at passing Manhattan streets, trying to memorize my own face in the
reflection. By this ttomorrow, it would be altered in ways | couldn't fully grasp yet. "You're quiet," Victoria
observed as we pulled into the private drive.
"Just thinking"
"Having doubts?"
| turned to look at her directly. "Would you stop the procedures if | said yes?"
A hint of a smile touched her lips. "No. But your answer tells| won't need to force the issue."
As always, she saw throughwith unsettling clarity. | wasn't having doubts, not really. Just trying to process
the finality of what was happening. Every step until now had been theoretically reversible Different But altering
my face, that was permanent. A physical manifestation of my commitment to this new life, this new identity.
"Dr. Torres is the best," Victoria said as we entered the house. "She's discreet, skilled, and understands our
objectives completely. She's also the only surgeon who has ever worked on my face."
This surprised ine, Victoria looked naturally elegant, her age visible but beautifully managed. I'd never suspected
cosmetic intervention.
"You've had work done?" | asked before | could stop mysel
She raised one perfect eyebrow. "Of course. Beauty is a weapon, Camille, Only fools refuse to sharpen their
blades
Chapter 13
due to misplaced principles "
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That night, | stood before my bathroom mirror longer than usual, studying the face that would change tomorrow.
| traced my cheekbones, the line of my jaw, the curve of my lips. Features inherited from parents sister.
Would changing my outside help heal what was broken inside?
Sleep cfitfully, filled with dreams of faceless women and mirrors that showed strangers. | woke before my
alarm, stomach tight with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.
James droveto the clinic in pre-
dawn darkness. Victoria didn't accompany us this time, a board meeting required her attention. But her absence
felt deliberate, another test to see if | would proceed without her oversight. Dr. Torres greetedThe next few
hours passed in a haze of medications and murmured voices. | remembered the cool feel of antiseptic on my
skin, the gentle pressure of Dr. Torres's hands marking surgical guidelines, the strange Then nothing.
| woke to dimmed lights and the soft beep of monitoring equipment. My face felt tight, pressure bandages
wrapped around my head. A private nurse appeared immediately, offering ice chips for my dry throat. “E The
recovery suite turned out to be a luxury apartment attached to the clinic, staffed with
private nurses
and equipped with everything needed for healing in complete comfort and secrecy. Victoria had arranged for my
things to be brought from the mansion-
clothes, toiletries, even books I'd been reading.
t see.
For five days, | existed in a twilight state of medications, gentle care, and gradually reducing bandages. Dr.
Torres visited twice daily, monitoring my healing with meticulous attention Special diets arrived on silve | still
hadn't seen myself.
The mirrors had been covered when | arrived at the recovery suite, standard protocol, Dr. Torres explained, to
prevent psychological shock during the most swollen phase of recovery.
On the sixth day, Dr. Torres arrived for her morning check with
Victoria in tow. Something in their expressions toldtoday was significant.
"The initial healing has progressed exceptionally well," Dr. Torres said, examining my face with clinical precision.
"The swelling has reduced enough for a first look Are you ready?" My heart pounded as | nodded.