SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Camille's point of view

Everyone else saw what | wanted them to see. What Victoria had craftedto show. Alexander Pierce had

somehow looked past all of that to the woman beneath, the woman | thought was safely buried. | showered,

letting hot water wash away the last traces of tonight's performance, then changed into silk pajamas and

moved to the sitting area of my suite. Sleep would be impossible with my mind in such turmoil. Instead, | poured

a small glass of bourbon from the decanter on my side table, a habit adopted from Victoria, and overlooking the

grounds.

The estate spread below me, perfectly manicured gardens now shadowed in moonlight, security lights marking

the perimeter in the distance. Beyond the gates, the city gloved against the night sky, millions of liv "I suspect

we'll be seeing more of each other, Ms. Kane."

His words played in my mind, the confidence in them suggesting he'd already decided our paths would cros

again. Not a hope or a plan, but a certainty. As if he knew something about the future that | didn't. The bourbon

warmed my throat as | sipped it, the expensive liquor tasting of oak and vanilla and something deeper,

something that remindedof how Pierce had smelled standing close to me, expensive col with notes of cedar

and leather underlying it.

| frowned, annoyed at myself for noticing such details, for remembering them, for finding them pleasant rather

than irrelevant. Victoria had trainedbetter than this. Physical reactions were to be noted, cataloged, and

dismissed if they served no strategic purpose.

And yet.

And yet, something about Alexander Pierce had awakened feelings | thought dead along with Camille Lewis. Not

romantic interest, nothing so simple or benign. More a deep- seated curiosity, a pull toward something or

someone who presented a genuine mystery in a world I'd cto understand as ruled by patterns and

calculations.

My phone buzzed softly on the table beside me. A message from Victoria: "Security briefing, 7 AM, Research

team gathering information on Pierce. Sleep if you can.

The clinical tone was typical of her, emotions relegated to background noise against the forward march of

strategic planning. | sent back a simple acknowledgment, then set the phone aside, returning my attenti What

would Alexander Pierce do next? The question demanded

consideration. If he truly believed | was Camille Lewis, resurrected and transformed, what purpose would that

knowledge serve for him? Leverage against Victoria, perhaps? A business advantage of skind Or was his

interest more personal? I'd caught something in his expression beyond mere strategic calculation. A curiosity

that mirrored my own, perhaps. An interest that transcended whatever ghe might be His words was it a

promise, or was it a threat? lingered in my mind as I finished my bourbon and prepared for bed. Sleep would be

difficult to find tonight, but tomorrow would demand full focus. Victoria would ha strategy against whatever

threat Pierce presented She always did.

As | slid between silk sheets, my mind refused to quiet, images from the evening playing behind closed eyelids.

The glittering ballroom. The assessing eyes of the social elige. Victoria's carefully orchestrated int And Alexander

Pierce, looking atwith those penetrating gray eyes, seeing what no one else had managed to see beneath

the careful construction of Camille Kane.

Was it fear | felt at that prospect, or something dangerously close to relief?

The question followedinto uneasy dreams where | ran through endless corridors, pursued by shadows with

piercing gray eyes. Dreams where | stood before mirrors that reflected not my current face but the turned to face

him, only to find myself waking with a start, heart pounding in the

darkness of my rooni.

Dawn foundat my window again, watching the first light touch the gardens below. I'd managed perhaps

three hours of broken sleep, not nearly enough for the day ahead, but more than I'd expected given th |

showered again, dressed in the power suit laid out by my stylist, applied makeup with practiced precision. Each

action a step in the daily transformation from private self to public persona. By the t| checked composed.

No trace remained of

the confusion and uncertainty that had plaguedthrough the night. No hint of the dreams that had disturbed

my sleep. Just the woman Victoria had created, the heir to her empire, the instrument of justice. ag Yet as |

moved through the morning routine, breakfast with Victoria, security briefing with James, review of press

coverage from the previous night's event, | found my thoughts repeatedly returning to Alexander despite the

threat he represented.

"The press coverage is universally positive," Victoria noted over coffee, scanning reports on her tablet. "Your

debut is being hailed as the social event of the season. Several publications are already speculating "And

Pierce?" | asked, unable to keep the question contained any longer. "Any mention of our interaction?" Victoria's

eyes flicked up to mine, assessing. "Nothing specific. Though the business press notes his u an event hosted by

his chief competitor."

She set down her tablet, givingher full attention, a rare occurrence during morning briefings. "You seem....

preoccupied with Alexander Pierce."

Not a question. An observation that demanded explanation

"He threatened everything we've built," | pointed out, keeping my voice neutral. "Identifieddespite all our

precautions. That seems worthy of preoccupation." "Yes," Victoria agreed, studyingwith the penetrating gaze

that always madefeel transparent. "But there's something more. Something you're not sharing

11

Thesitated, unsure how to articulate the strange pull I'd felt toward Pierce without sounding foolish. Without

sounding like the old Camille, easily swayed by attention from confident men. "There was something familiar

about him," | said finally. Not that I've met him before. But a sense that he understood something aboutthat

others don't Can't"

Victoria's expression remained unreadable, but | sensed a shift in her attention, a sharpening of focus.

"Elaborate.

"He looked atand saw through the surface," | tried to explain. "Not just suspecting | might be Camille Lewis,

but... seeing me. The person beneath the transformation."

My words sounded ridiculous to my own ears, mystical rather than strategic, emotional rather than calculated.

Everything Victoria had trainedto avoid.

Yet she didn't dismiss my observation. Instead, she seemed to consider it carefully, fingers tapping a slow

rhythm on the polished table.

"Alexander Pierce has always possessed unusual insight into people," she said after a moment. "It's part of what

makes him dangerous. He sees patterns others miss, connections others overlook."

She rose, moving to the window that overlooked the front drive where her car waited. "Whatever connection you

feel, whatever recognition you sensed, remember that it serves his purposes, not yours. Not ours

"Of course," | agreed quickly, embarrassed to have revealed even that much vulnerability. "I'm not suggesting

otherwise."

Victoria turned back to me, her expression softening fractionally. "Pierce is brilliant, charismatic, and utterly

ruthless in pursuit foals. Much like me, in that regard "A small, tight smile. "Perhaps that's why we've b She

gathered her things, preparing to depart for the office. The security team will have a complete dossier on his

recent activities by this afternoon. Until then, proceed with today's schedule as planned. The Tec With that, she

was gone, leavingwith a strange sense of having revealed too much and learned too little all at

once.

The morning passed in a blur of meetings and conference calls, the business of Kane Industries demanding

complete focus. Yet beneath the professional exterior | maintained, thoughts of Alexander Pierce con The way

he'd looked at me. The certainty in his voice. The promise of seeing each other again.

| found myself wondering what he was doing now. Whether he was thinking about our encounter as well.

Whether he was already planning our next meeting, or

if his attention had moved on to other matters, other adversaries.

The latter possibility botheredmore than it should have

By late afternoon, fatigue from the previous night's broken sleep finally caught up with me. | retreated to my

office, instructing my assistant to hold calls for thirty minutes while | reviewed documents that required window

seat, allowing myself a rare moment of unguarded thought.

Alexander Pierce had recognized me. Had seen through layers of surgical alteration, physical transformation, and

behavioral retraining to the woman I'd been before. The question that hauntedwasn't how h Was it simple

fear of exposure? Of having everything Victoria and | had built together threatened by one man's dangerous

knowledge?

Or was it the vertigo-

inducing sensation of being truly seen after a year of perfect disguise? The strange relief mixed with

terror when someone looked past Camille Kane to the woman beneath, the woman | sometimes feared I'd lost

completely in the transformation.

| closed my eyes, the afternoon sun warm on my face through the window glass. Whatever the reason, Alexander

Pierce had disturbed something inthat had been carefully buried, carefully controlled. Some

When we meet again, | would be ready. Would have answer to the questions he raised, both spoken and

unspoken. Would understand the threat he presented and how to neutralize it.

Would understand why, despite everything, | found myself

Almost