NovelReadingChapter 29
CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW
The engagement party filled the screen before me, bright lights and beautiful people swirling in celebration. | sat
motionless in Victoria's guest suite, hands folded in my lap breathing measured despite the storm 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 forma 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 offic 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 beca 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
Would I? Would | want them to find
happiness together? To build their life on the foundation of my destruction?
A tear slid down my cheek before | could stop it. | wiped it away quickly, angry at this weakness. Eleven months
of transformation. Eleven months of becoming someone new. Someone stronger.
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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," | 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," | said softly. "I've been preparing to take back what they stole from me. My husband.
My family. My life."
| turned to face her fully, something shifting insidelike 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 ne considered
| moved to the window overlooking Manhattan's glittering expanse. A view fitting for who | was becoming. Not
Camille Lewis, forgotten daughter and discarded wife. But Camille Kane, heir to an empire, architec "Justice," |
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 lifetavoiding."
"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. “T 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 "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."
She outlined the plan. Acquiring Rose's main fabric supplier through shell companies, Creating subtle quality,
issues. Financial pressure through carefully manipulated loan terms. Contract interference with Rod Not revenge
in the conventional sense. Not public humiliation or tic confrontation. But something far more devastating,
the slow, inexorable erosion of everything they'd built. mando
"When do we begin?" | asked, a strange calm settling over me.
"The TechVault announcement goes live at 9 AM tomorrow Your interview with Fortune runs the following day. By
week's end, the business world will be discussing Camille Kane, not Rose Lewis and Stefan Ro Victoria poured
two glasses of scotch. "And next week, we close on Bertolucci Textiles. The first domino falls."
On screen, Rose threw her bouquet, laughing as eager women reached for it. She aimed directly at the camera,
her expression triumphant.
"Are you ready to begin?" Victoria asked quietly.
| turned from the screen, something dangerous awakening in my eyes. "Burn it all down."
Victoria touched her glass to mine. "Not burn," she corrected. "Burning is chaotic, emotional, easily traced. What
we're about to do is surgical. Precise. Untraceable."
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"Dismantle it all," | amended.
"Piece by piece," she agreed. "Until nothing remains but the truth."
Later, | stood before my mirror, studying the woman I'd become. The physical changes from Dr. Torres's work,
sharper cheekbones, refined features. But the most profound changes were in my eyes, steady, foo Rose
wouldn't recognizeif we passed on the street. Stefan would see a stranger in an elevator. My own parents
would look right through me.
Which made the justice to cperfect. | would move among them unrecognized. Would dismantle their world
piece by piece without them suspecting the architect of the downfall.
On my desk lay a small velvet box that hadn't been there earlier. Inside, platinum phoenix earrings with diamond
eyes, matching Victoria's earlier gift.
The card read simply. "For tomorrow's rebirth. - V
| touched the earrings gently, understanding the symbolism Tomorrow marked not just a business success but
my emergence from the ashes. My introduction to the world that had forgotten Camille Lewis, the w Let them
celebrate tonight, | thought. Let them bask in the triumph, their perfect love story, their bright future together.
Tomorrow belonged to me. And all the tomorrows after that
What awaited them was far worse than fire, it was the precise, methodical deconstruction of everything they
believed secure. The surgical removal of every support structure. The clean, untraceable dismantling Not
tomorrow. Not next week. Not all at once in a satisfying explosion of vengeance.
But inevitably. Inexorably. Piece by carefully extracted piece.
Until nothing remained but truth.
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