Chapter 29
CAMILLE’S POINT OF VIEW
The engagement party filled the screen before me, bright lights and beautiful people swirling in celebration. I sat motionless in Victoria’s guest suite, hands folded in my lap breathing measured despite the storm in my chest. Three cameras captured the event from different angles, ensuring not a single moment of joy would go undocumented.
Joy for them. Torture for me.
The Rodriguez family estate had been transformed into a fairytale setting, white roses everywhere, crystal chandeliers hanging from pavilions, string quartet playing softly. Two hundred guests in designer formal wear, champagne flowing freely, laughter rising into the night air
And at the center of it all, Rose and Stefan. My sister and my ex–husband.
“The engagement of the year,” the entertainment reporter gushed. “Stefan Rodriguez, heir to the Rodriguez shipping fortune, and renowned fashion designer Rose Lewis have finally made their relationship official after a respectful period following the tragic death of Stefan’s first wife–Rose’s sister Camille.”
A “respectful period.” Nine months. That’s all it took for my existence to become a footnote in their love story.
The camera cut to my mother, diamonds glittering at her throat. “Of course we’re thrilled,” she said, voice slightly too bright. “Rose and Stefan have always had a special connection. While we continue to mourn Camille, we know she would want them to find happiness.”
Would I? Would I want them to find happiness together? To build their life on the foundation of my destruction?
A tear slid down my cheek before I could stop it. I wiped it away quickly, angry at this weakness. Eleven months of transformation. Eleven months of becoming someone new. Someone stronger.
The door opened silently. Victoria moved to stand beside my chair, her attention fixing on the television where Rose was now tossing her bouquet.
“You requested the broadcast,” Victoria said, her voice neutral.
“I needed to see it,” I replied, steadier than expected. “To understand what I’m fighting for.”
Victoria studied me, missing nothing, not the dried tears, not the tension in my shoulders. “And what did you discover?”
“That I’ve been fighting the wrong battle,” I said softly. “I’ve been preparing to take back what they stole from me. My husband. My family. My life.”
I turned to face her fully, something shifting inside me like tectonic plates rearranging. “But that life was never worth fighting for. Stefan never loved me, not really. My parents never saw me, not clearly. Rose never considered me her sister, only an obstacle.”
I moved to the window overlooking Manhattan’s glittering expanse. A view fitting for who I was becoming. Not Camille Lewis, forgotten daughter and discarded wife. But Camille Kane, heir to an empire, architect of vengeance. “For eleven months, I’ve been training to reclaim what I lost.” I continued. “But what I lost wasn’t worth having.” “Then what are you fighting for?” Victoria asked.
“Justice,” I said, the word tasting new on my tongue. Not on
cold, measured, inexorable. “I’m fighting to show them exactly who they are. To make them face the truth they’ve spent a lifetime avoiding.”
“And what truth is that?”
“That Rose isn’t the golden child they think she is. That Stefan isn’t the honorable man he pretends to be. That parents chose wrongly when they favored her over me.” My words emerged with quiet certainty. “They built their happiness on lies. Justice is showing them their foundation is sand,”
Victoria moved to the desk, opening folders, dossiers on Rose’s fashion business, Stefan’s role in his family company, my parents‘ social connections. Eleven months of intelligence gathering, creating a map of vulnerabilities.
“The acquisition of TechVault goes public tomorrow,” Victoria said. “Your redemption in the business world. Then we begin the systematic dismantling of their world. Not with a frontal assault, but with precision strikes they won’t recognize as attacks until it’s too late.”
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