SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan) novel Chapter 180

Chapter 180

Rain tapped against the windows of Camille's office as she reviewed quarterly reports. The sky had darkened early, turning afternoon to evening without her noticing. She rubbed her tired eyes, realizing she'd been staring at the same page for ten minutes.

Her assistant's voice came through the intercom. "Ms. Kane? There's someone here to see you. She doesn't have an appointment."

Camille frowned. "Who is it?"

"A Mrs. Pierce. She says it's personal."

Camille's hand froze. Pierce. Alexander's family name. But he rarely spoke of his parents, and when he did, his voice turned cold in a way that reminded her of Victoria at her most distant.

"Send her in," Camille said, smoothing her skirt as she stood.

The woman who entered moved with quiet grace, her shoulders pulled back despite the obvious tension in her face. She was tall and slim, with silver-streaked dark hair pulled into a neat bun. Her clothes were expensive but understated. But it was her eyes that caught Camille's attention. They were Alexander's eyes exactly, the same deep blue that could shift from warmth to ice in seconds.

"Ms. Kane," the woman said, her voice soft but steady. "Thank you for seeing me without notice. I'm Eleanor Pierce."

Camille gestured to the chair across from her desk. "Please, sit down."

Eleanor perched on the edge of the seat, clutching her handbag like a shield. "I imagine this is quite surprising. Alexander doesn't know I'm here."

"He's never mentioned you would visit," Camille agreed, studying the woman's face. The resemblance was unmistakable now.

"He wouldn't," Eleanor said, pain flashing across her features. "My son hasn't spoken to me or his father in almost seven years. Not even when we begged him to after James died."

The rawness in Eleanor's voice made Camille pause. Alexander had told her fragments of his history, about the car accident, his brother walking away unscathed while Alexander spent months in the hospital. About his family choosing sides. About his brother's death four years ago and his parents' desperate attempts to reconnect that he'd ruthlessly rebuffed.

"Mrs. Pierce, why have you come to me now? After all this time?"

Eleanor's fingers whitened around her bag. "Because I'm running out of hope." Her voice cracked. "Four years of silence. Four years of trying to reach him with no response."

The admission hung in the air between them.

"I'm sorry," Camille said quietly.

Eleanor shook her head, a tear escaping. "Don't be. I've had four years of letters returned unopened. Four years of calls ignored. Four years standing outside his building just hoping to catch a glimpse of him." Her composure fractured. "Do you know what it's like to see your child on magazine covers and realize you don't know him anymore? To watch him receive awards, build companies, fall in love, all from a distance?"

"We failed him," Eleanor continued, voice barely above a whisper. "When he needed us most, we failed him. His father and I... we made a choice so terrible I wake up choking on it every night."

Camille remained silent, letting the woman speak.

"His brother James was always the golden child. When the accident happened, we couldn't believe James would have been driving recklessly. We couldn't face that he'd been drinking." A sob escaped her. "It was easier to believe Alexander's version was confused by his injuries."

"You took James's side," Camille said quietly.

"While Alexander was still in the hospital," Eleanor said, eyes overflowing. "While he was fighting to walk again, fighting through surgeries and pain no young man should endure. We chose to believe James's lies, and Alexander has never forgiven us." Her voice broke. "He shouldn't."

Camille felt her own eyes burning. The raw anguish in Eleanor's voice was impossible to dismiss.

"We tried to reach him," Eleanor continued after composing herself. "We went to his apartment the day after the funeral. He wouldn't even open the door."

She pulled a small stack of envelopes from her bag, held together with a ribbon. "I've written him every month for four years. Birthdays. Christmas. Just ordinary days when I remembered something about him." Her voice trembled. "They all came back marked 'Return to Sender.' Unopened."

"Why come to me?" Camille asked. "After all these attempts, why now?"

"Because you made him smile again," Eleanor said simply. She extracted a magazine clipping, a photo of Alexander and Camille at a charity event, his head thrown back in genuine laughter. "I haven't seen him laugh like this since before the accident. You've given him something I thought was lost forever."

"What is it you want from me?" Camille asked, gentler now.