SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan) novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3

ROSE'S POINT OF VIEW

I swirled the champagne in my crystal flute, watching the bubbles dance. Victory tasted sweet, just like I'd imagined all these years. The living room of my penthouse apartment overlooked the city where I'd spent twenty years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter, the loving sister, the supportive friend.

What a joke.

"To freedom," I whispered to my reflection in the window. The woman staring back at me smiled, perfect teeth, perfect hair, perfect lies. Just like always.

My phone buzzed again. Another missed call from Stefan. He'd been calling non-stop since Camille walked out, probably worried I'd change my mind now that everything was in the open. Poor, predictable Stefan. Still thinking he was in control of any of this.

I kicked off my Louboutins and sank into the leather couch, letting memories wash over me like warm wine.

---

The first time I saw Camille Lewis, I hated her.

I was thirteen, fresh out of foster care, desperate to please my new parents. They'd brought me to this massive house with its manicured lawn and marble floors, promising me a fresh start. A real family.

Then this skinny thing with braces and messy hair came bouncing down the stairs, all eager smiles and innocent eyes.

"Hi! I'm Camille. I've always wanted a sister!"

She hugged me right there in the foyer, not caring that my clothes were secondhand or that I smelled like the group home's industrial detergent. Just pure, genuine joy at having a sister.

I wanted to vomit.

Because there she was, this awkward, imperfect girl who had everything I'd spent thirteen years dreaming about. Parents who actually wanted her. A home she belonged in. A future secured by the Lewis family name.

And she didn't even appreciate it properly.

I watched her over dinner that first night, watched how she slouched in her chair and talked with her mouth full. How she didn't know which fork to use for salad. How she laughed too loud and asked too many questions.

"Rose has such lovely manners," Mrs. Lewis .... Mom ..... had said, smiling at me. "Perhaps you could learn from your new sister, Camille."

That's when I saw it. The first crack in Camille's perfect world. The slight dimming of her smile, the way she sat up straighter, tried harder.

It was beautiful.

---

My phone buzzed again, pulling me back to the present. Stefan's face lit up my screen, his fifth call in an hour. With a sigh, I answered.

"Darling, you're being needy."

"Rose." His voice was rough. Had he been drinking? "She's gone. Really gone. Blocked my number, cleaned out her closet..."

"Isn't that what we wanted?" I kept my voice gentle, soothing. The same tone I'd used all those times I'd counseled Camille through her marital problems. Problems I'd carefully orchestrated.

"I just... the way she looked at me..."

"Stefan, sweetheart." I let steel edge into my sweetness. "Are you having second thoughts? After everything we've been through?"

"No! No, of course not. I love you. I've always loved you."

"Then stop calling me about your ex-wife. It's pathetic."