SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan) novel Chapter 165

Chapter 165

Cold. That was the first thing Camille felt. Cold and a deep, throbbing pain in her head.

She tried to move, but her arms wouldn't respond. Slowly, her eyes opened to a dimly lit room with wooden walls. Her vision swam, the effects of whatever drug Rose had given her still lingering in her system.

Looking down, Camille saw thick rope binding her to a heavy wooden chair. Each wrist tied separately to the armrests, ankles secured to the chair legs. Whoever had tied these knots knew what they were doing.

A wave of fear washed over her, threatening to drown her reason. She forced it down, focusing instead on her surroundings. Wooden walls. A stone fireplace. Large windows showing dense forest outside. And something else, something familiar.

Recognition dawned slowly. She knew this place. Or rather, she knew what it had once been.

The old Lewis family cabin. Where they had spent summers when they were younger. Where they had once been sisters before everything changed.

But this wasn't exactly the cabin she remembered. That had been smaller, older. This was a new structure built on the same spot, incorporating elements of the original, the stone fireplace, the position of the windows, but larger, more modern.

"Finally awake, sleeping beauty?" Rose's voice came from behind her.

Camille tensed but kept her breathing steady, refusing to show fear as Rose walked around to face her. Her sister looked different than she had at the roadside. She'd washed out the black hair dye, returning to her natural color. Dressed not in the tactical gear from the ambush but in casual clothes, jeans and a sweater that reminded Camille of what they used to wear during those summer vacations.

"Do you like what I've done with the place?" Rose asked, gesturing around them. "I rebuilt it exactly as I remembered, with a few modern touches. Dad sold it after everything fell apart. After they thought that you died."

Camille worked moisture into her dry mouth. "Why am I here, Rose?"

"So impatient," Rose chided, pulling up a chair to sit facing Camille. "No appreciation for symmetry. For perfect endings." She leaned forward, eyes glittering with excitement. "Don't you see? This is where we were happiest together. Before you turned everyone against me."

"I didn't turn anyone against you," Camille said quietly. "You did that yourself when you tried to kill me."

Rose's face hardened. "Is that what you tell yourself? That I'm the villain in this story?" She stood abruptly. "They abandoned me. Our parents. Stefan. Everyone chose you and threw me away."

She paced the room, agitation making her movements sharp and jerky. "But that doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that we've come full circle. Back to where we were once happy. Back to where everything changed."

Camille tested the ropes binding her wrists. No give at all. Rose noticed and smiled.

"Don't bother. My men are professionals. Former military. They know how to keep someone secure."

"Where are they now?" Camille asked, looking around the empty cabin main room.

"Around," Rose said vaguely. "Keeping watch. Making sure your boyfriend and his security teams don't interrupt our sister time." She sat down again, leaning uncomfortably close. "We have so much catching up to do."

Despite the pounding in her head and the fear churning in her stomach, Camille met Rose's gaze steadily. "They'll find me, Rose. Alexander, Victoria, the FBI, they're looking for me right now."

Rose's smile widened. "I'm counting on it. But they won't find you in time."

"In time for what?"

"In time to save you?" Rose shrugged. "That depends on how you define 'save.' Will they find you alive? Probably. Will they find you whole? Unbroken? Now that's a different question entirely."

A chill ran down Camille's spine, but she kept her expression neutral. Victoria had taught her well, never show weakness to an opponent. And Rose was nothing if not an opponent now.

"What do you want?" Camille asked again. "You've had months to plan. Weeks to prepare. Now you have me. So what's the point of all this?"

Rose stood again, moving to a table where a laptop sat open. "The point? Oh, sister dear, the point is to take everything from you. Just as you took everything from me." She tapped a few keys on the laptop. "But not all at once. That would be too... merciful."

The screen lit up, showing a split view of four different camera feeds. Camille recognized them immediately, Victoria's lake house. Alexander's apartment. Her parents' home. The Kane Industries building.

"I've been watching all of them," Rose explained, her voice casual, as if discussing the weather. "Planning my next move."

Horror bloomed in Camille's chest. "Rose, don't. They've done nothing to you."

"Nothing?" Rose's voice rose sharply. "Victoria Kane took you in, made you her heir, gave you everything I should have had. Alexander Pierce loves you, protects you, stood by you. Our parents chose you over me, abandoned me when I needed them most. Again and again, they all chose you."

She moved closer, her face inches from Camille's. "And now they'll pay for that choice. One by one. While you watch. Unable to warn them. Unable to save them."

Camille fought to keep her breathing steady, to not show the terror gripping her heart. "Why not just kill me then? Why go after them?"

"Because death is too quick, too clean," Rose explained, her tone frighteningly reasonable. "I want you to live, Camille. Live knowing everyone you love died because of you. Live with that pain eating away at you every day, just as I've lived with the knowledge that I was never enough. Never the daughter they wanted. Never the sister you valued."

Despite her efforts to remain calm, tears burned in Camille's eyes. "You're wrong, Rose. So wrong about everything. They loved you. I loved you. But you tried to kill me, what did you expect them to do?"

"I expected loyalty!" Rose shouted. "I expected them to understand that everything I did was because of how they treated me. Always comparing me to perfect Camille. Always making me feel like I didn't belong."

For a split second, Camille saw the hurt child Rose had once been, the adopted girl who never felt secure in her place, who always thought she had to fight for love.

"And then what?" Camille asked, desperately trying to reach whatever humanity might remain in her sister. "After you've killed everyone I love. After you've broken me. What then, Rose?"

For a moment, Rose looked confused, as if she hadn't thought beyond her revenge. "Then... then we're even."

"And will that make you happy?" Camille pressed. "Will that fill the emptiness inside you? The hurt? The pain?"

Rose turned away. "Stop it."

"Will killing Victoria bring back our family? Will hurting Alexander erase what happened? Will destroying me heal you?"

"STOP IT!" Rose whirled back, her face contorted with rage and something else, uncertainty. "You don't get to question me. You don't get to judge me. Not after everything you've taken."

Camille saw it then, the hairline crack in Rose's certainty. The moment of doubt. She pushed harder. "I never took anything from you, Rose. You destroyed it yourself. And this revenge won't give it back."

For a heartbeat, Rose seemed to waver. Then her face hardened again. "Nice try, sister dear. But your psychological games won't work on me. I've been planning this for too long. Waiting for this moment."

She moved to the door. "I'm going to check with my men. When I come back, we will continue." She smiled, cold and empty. "Won't that be fun? A little sister's reunion"

The door closed behind her, leaving Camille alone with the knowledge that Victoria was in immediate danger, that Alexander would be next, that everyone she loved had a target on their back, and she was powerless to warn them.

But Rose's moment of uncertainty lingered in her mind. The crack in her sister's armor. Small, almost invisible, but real.

Camille looked around the cabin, searching for anything that might help her escape. The ropes were too tight, the knots too professional. But Rose had made one mistake.

She had left the laptop.

Closed, but still there on the table. If Camille could somehow get to it, somehow open it, maybe she could send a warning. Alert Alexander. Save Victoria.

Straining against her bonds, Camille worked to inch the heavy chair across the floor toward the table. Each movement was agony, the ropes digging into her wrists and ankles, but the thought of Victoria in danger drove her forward.

Outside, she heard voices, Rose speaking to someone. She had minutes at most.

Desperation gave her strength. The chair legs scraped across the wooden floor as she fought to reach the table, to somehow save the people she loved before Rose destroyed them one by one.

And as she struggled, one thought burned in her mind: this place, this cabin where they had once been sisters, would not become the site of Rose's final victory. Whatever it took, whatever she had to endure, She would not let Rose win. Not this time. Not ever.