SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 16

Camille's point of view

By four o'clock, my brain felt stuffed with French conjugations and pronunciation corrections. My third coffee of

the day wasn't helping the shaking in my hands.

Mrs. Harrington, the etiquette coach, noticed immediately. A lady never allows fatigue to show," she

reprimanded, straightening my already-

straight spine.

"Shoulders back. Chin parallel to the floor. Now, let's review the proper handling of difficult dinner

conversations."

For two more hours, we practiced responding to inappropriate questions, managing awkward silences, and the

subtle art of steering conversations toward or away from specific topics. All skills Victoria deemed When James

finally droveback to the mansion at six, | had exactly forty-

five minutes to prepare for dinner with the board

members. My head pounded. Black spots danced at the edges

of my vision. The thought of making small talk with twelve stern executives madewant to curl into a ball and

disappear.

Instead, | changed into the evening dress laid out for me, an elegant black Dior that probably cost more than

most people's monthly salary. The stylist had left detailed notes about which jewelry to wear and how Looking in

the mirror, | barely recognized the sophisticated woman staring back at me. Designer dress. Perfect makeup.

Expensive jewelry. | looked like | belonged in Victoria's world of wealth and power. But inside, | felt hollowed out.

Empty. A pretty shell with nothing left inside.

My knees buckled suddenly, room

spinning around me. | grabbed the vanity for support, but my arms gave way. The last thing | saw before

darkness claimedwas my reflection sliding sideways in the mirror, eyes closing as consciousness slij

| woke to softness beneathand the sensation of something cool on my forehead. Opening my eyes slowly, |

found myself on my bed, still in the black dress, though someone had removed my shoes.

"The third tthis week," Victoria's voice cfrom nearby. "Your body is telling you something."

| turned my head to find her sitting in a chair

beside my bed, reading glasses perched on her nose as she reviewed documents. She didn't look up.

"What tis it?" | croaked, throat dry.

"Nearly nine. James found you when you didn't cdown for the

car." She made a note in the margin of whatever she was reading. "I sent your regrets to the board. We'll

reschedule." Shwashed over me. "I'm sorry."

Victoria finally looked up, removing her glasses. "For what? Having physical limitations? That's not failure, it's

biology"

| struggled to sit up, room tilting

dangerously before settling "The dinner was important."

"Yes. And you were in no condition to attend." She set aside her papers. "Which raises a question about your

training regimen."

My heart sank. More lessons? Earlier mornings? | couldn't imagine how my schedule could becmore grueling

than it already was.

"Why are you doing this to me?" The question slipped out before | could stop it, raw and honest in a way | hadn't

allowed myself to be since accepting her offer.

Victoria didn't seem offended. If anything, she looked like she'd been expecting the question.

"Because no one becomes powerful by being comfortable, she said, her voice matter-

of-fact. "Not even my own daughter."

She stood, moving to the window that overlooked the mansion's gardens, silver hair gleaming in the moonlight

filtering through the glass.

"When | was twenty-

two," she continued, "I worked three jobs while attending night classes. | slept four hours

a night for two years. Collapsed twice from exhaustion. Kept going anyway."

She turned back to face me. "By twenty five, I'd built my first company. By thirty, my first billion. Each step

required sacrifice. Comfort and power rarely coexist."

"But this pace isn't sustainable," | protested. "I can't keep.

"Of course you can't," she interrupted. "That's precisely the point."

1 stared at her, confused.

"Pushing beyond your limits shows you where they truly lie," she explained. "Most people never discover their

actual capacity because they stop at the first sign of discomfort."

She returned to the chair beside my bed. "The training you've endured these past weeks has taught you more

than facts and skills. It's shown you that you're capable of far more than you believed." | considered her words,

realizing with surprise that she was right. Three

weeks ago, | couldn't have imagined. absorbing so much information, enduring such physical challenges,

maintaining a completely new identity under pressure.

"But now adjustments are necessary," Victoria continued. We've established your baseline. From tomorrow, your

schedule will change."

Relief flooded through me. "Fewer lessons?"

"Different distribution," she corrected. "Combat training three days a week instead of five. Business education

condensed into more efficient modules. More independent study, less classroom time." She handeda glass of

water from the bedside table. "Your body needs recovery tto strengthen. Your mind needs space to process.

Neither benefits from constant pressure without relief."

| sipped the water, studying her over the rim of the glass. "You knew this would happen. The collapse."

"| anticipated it," she acknowledged. "Just as | anticipate your ability to adapt to what comes next."

"Which is?"

"Phase two." Victoria smiled slightly. "The foundation is laid, basic skills, public introduction, established

background. Now we build your reputation, your connections, your influence."

She stood again, smoothing, her impeccable suit. "Sleep now. Tomorrow starts later, 9 AM meeting with your new

personal physician. He'll assess your physical condition and recommend adjustments to your training.

It felt like a massive concession coming from her. But as she reached the door, she paused, looking back with

steel in her eyes.

Chapter 16

"Don't mistake this for softness, Camille. The path ahead remains difficult. But breaking you serves no purpose. |

need you strong, capable, and fully functional."

"For revenge," | said quietly.

"For justice," she corrected. "And for the future neither of us could have achieved alone."

After she left, | stared at the ceiling, too exhausted to undress but too wired to sleep immediately. Her words

echoed in my mind: No one becomes powerful by being comfortable. Not even my own daughter. The

endearment felt strange, both false and oddly genuine | wasn't her daughter, not really. But | wasn't Camille

Lewis anymore either. | existed in sin- between state, shedding my old self day by painful day, but not yet

fully transformed into whoever | was becoming.

Rolling onto my side, | caught sight of my reflection in the dressing table mirror across the room. Even from here,

| could see how different I looked from the woman who had signed divorce papers three weeks Eventually,

exhaustion won, pullingunder into dreams filled with fighting shadows and endless tests | couldn't pass. |

woke periodically throughout the night, each tremembering Victoria's words before c No one becomes

powerful by being comfortable.

By morning, something

had shifted inside me. The resentment remained, but alongside it grew a different feeling, determination. If this

brutal regimen was the price of becoming someone who could never be hurt like Camille Lewis ha When my

alarm sounded at 8 AM, practically mid-

day compared to my usual wake-up, | rose without the bone-

deep dread that had accompanied each morning for weeks. My body still ached, my mind still felt overloaded,

but

something else had grown stronger.

My resolve

The woman in the mirror looked back atwith eyes that matched Victoria's in their determination, if not yet in

their confidence. Not quite Camille Lewis anymore. Not fully Camille Kane yet, But getting closer every day.

| showered, dressed in the outfit laid out for me, and headed downstairs where James would be waiting with the

car. Each step still hurt, but now | welcomed the pain.

It meant | was changing Growing. Becoming