Ch. 146..150: SCORNED EX WIFE Chapter 146-150
Chapter 146
Pain came first. A deep, burning ache in his chest that seemed to pulse with each heartbeat. Then sounds filtered in, the steady beep of machines, the squeak of rubber- soled shoes on linoleum, hushed voices just beyond his reach
Herod Preston opened his eyes
The hospital room swam into focus slowly White ceiling Blue curtains Clear tubes running into his arms. And a man in a dark suit sitting beside his bed, watching him with tired eyes.
"Mr. Preston," the man said, leaning forward. Im Special Agent Morgan with the FBI. Can you hear me?"
Herod tried to speak, but his throat
felt like sandpaper. A nurse appeared, holding a small cup of water with a straw. He sipped, the cool liquid both painful and soothing as it went down.
"Yes," he managed finally, his voice a raspy whisper. "I hear you."
Agent Morgan nodded to someone Herod couldn't see. A woman stepped into view, also in a dark suit. 'Agent Chen," she introduced herself. "You've been unconscious for four days, Mr. Preston, Do you remem The memories hit him like a physical blow. The motel room. The phone call to the FBI. Rose's face when she realized what he was doing. The sound of gunshots. The burning pain in his chest. "Rose," he said. "Rose shot me."
The agents exchanged glances. "Rose Lewis," Agent Morgan confirmed. "We've been looking for her, but she's disappeared." Herod closed his eyes briefly, gathering his strength. Each word cost him, but he needed to speak. Needed to finally tell the
truth.
"She was behind everything," he said, each word careful and deliberate. "The bombings. The sabotage. All of it."
Agent Chen pulled out a recorder. "Mr. Preston, would you be willing to make
an official statement? You have the right to have an attorney present."
"No attorney," Herod said. "I want to talk now. Before....." He didn't finish the thought. Before Rose could silence him permanently. Before he lost his courage.
Agent Morgan turned on the recorder, stating the date, time, and those present. Then he nodded to Herod. "Tell us what happened, from the beginning."
Herod took another sip of water, organizing his thoughts. The beginning. Where was the beginning? With his family's downfall at Victoria Kane's hands? With his first meeting with Rose? With the moment he rea "I met Rose Lewis six months ago," he started. "She knew about my hatred for Victoria Kane. She used that. Encouraged it. Made me believe we were partners with the same goal, revenge against the Kanes." "And were you?" Agent Chen asked. "Partners?"
Herod gave a small, bitter laugh that turned into
a wince of pain. "No. I was a tool. A convenient scapegoat with resources she needed."
"Resources for what?" Morgan pressed.
"Money. Connections. A name that gave her access to places she couldn't go on
her own." Herod's voice grew stronger as he spoke, as if the words themselves
were giving him energy. "Rose planned everything. The attacks on the Phoenix Grid. The sabotage attempts. The bombings."
Chen leaned forward. "Are you saying Rose Lewis planted the bombs herself?”
"Yes." Herod met her eyes. "She had training-I never asked
where she learned it. She planted both devices. Made sure my fingerprints were on components. My DNA at the scenes. All while establishing alibis for herself."
"And you?" Morgan asked. "Where were you during the bombings?"
Herod looked down at his bandaged chest. "I knew about them. I provided money. Equipment. I helped her plan the damage to maximize impact while minimizing casualties."
"But you didn't plant the bombs yourself?"
"No." The admission brought no relief, no absolution. "But I didn't stop her either. That makes me guilty too." Agent Chen made notes on a small pad. "Mr. Preston, do you have any proof of what you're telling us Herod had been waiting for this question. "The
Successfully unlocked!
mentioned when I called you. Did you fir
The agents exchanged glances again. "No recorder was found at
the scene," Morgan said carefully.
Herod closed his eyes, thinking. The recorder had been in his jacket pocket when Rose shot him. If the FBI didn't have it, where was it?
Chapter 146
"Check the jacket I was wearing," he said. "Inside pocket. Or maybe it fell out when I was shot
"We've been through your clothing, Mr. Preston, Chen said. "There was no recording device'
A cold realization washed over Herod. 'She took it. After she
shot me. Before you arrived"
Morgan's face remained impassive. "That's convenient for your story."
"It's the truth," Herod insisted, frustration making his heart rate spike. The machines beside him beeped faster "Rose Lewis planned and executed the bombings. I knew about them but didn't stop her. I'm guilty she was the one who actually planted the devices."
"Without evidence, it's your word against hers, Chen pointed out. And you have a strong motive to shift blame
Herod felt a wave of despair. Of course they didn't believe him. Why would they? Rose had done her job
too well, making sure all trails led back to him and him alone.
But then he remembered something. A small detail that might change everything.
"The hotel," he said suddenly. "The Plaza Hotel."
Morgan raised an eyebrow. "What about it?"
*Rose established her alibis there during both bombings. Made sure she was visible, surrounded by witnesses." Herod's words came faster now, urgent. "But she had to leave at some point. There would be a gap in the security footage. A period when she slipped out, planted the bombs, and
returned."
Agent Chen was writing rapidly now. "We can check the
hotel's security cameras."
"Not just the main entrances," Herod added. "Service doors. Fire exits. Rose is smart, she would find a way out that wouldn't be obvious."
For the first time, Morgan looked genuinely interested. "Anything else?"
Herod thought carefully. What other evidence might Rose have missed? What other trail might she have left?
"Her phone," he said. "She used a burner for most communications, but sometimes she used her regular phone. Check the tower data on the nights of the bombings. It might show her location."
"We'll look into it," Morgan said, noncommittal.
Herod sensed their continued skepticism. He needed something more concrete, something they couldn't ignore.
"The storage unit," he said suddenly, the memory surfacing through the fog of pain medication.
"What storage unit?" Chen asked.
"In Queens. Under the
name Sarah Miller. Unit 217 at Secure Storage on Vernon Boulevard." The details came back to him in a rush.
"Rose kept supplies there. Equipment. Maybe plans. She thought I didn't know about it, but I followed her once, saw her using a key with the number on it."
Now Morgan was taking notes too. "You're sure about this? Unit 217, Secure Storage, Vernon Boulevard?"
"Yes." Herod felt a glimmer of hope. "And there's more. Check her connection to Anton Bessonov. Russian businessman with ties to organized crime. She bought
the explosives through him."
The agents looked at each other, a silent communication passing between them. Then Morgan turned back to Herod. "Mr. Preston, if what you're telling us proves true, would you be willing to testify against Ros The question hung in the air. Testify against Rose. The woman he had thought he loved. The woman who had used him, betrayed him, and tried to kill him.
"Yes," Herod said, his voice stronger now. "I'll testify."
"Even knowing
that would mean admitting your own role?" Chen pressed. "You'd still face significant jail time for conspiracy."
Herod thought of his brother Charles. Of what he would want Herod to
do. The right thing, no matter the cost.
"I'll accept whatever punishment I deserve," he said quietly. "But Rose needs to be stopped
before she hurts anyone else." Morgan nodded slowly, seeming to reassess the man
lying
before him. "We'll need a complete statement. Every detail you can remember about the bombings, about Rose's involvement, about your own actions."
"I'll tell you everything," Herod promised. "But there's something else you need to know. Something urgent."
"What's that?" Chen asked.
"Rose won't stop,” Herod said, fear creeping into his voice for the first time. “The bombings were just the beginning wants to destroy Camille Kane completely. She'll try again. Something bigger. More dangerous "Do you know what she's planning?" Morgan leaned forward, suddenly alert.
Herod shook his
head, pain shooting through his chest at the movement. "No specific plans. But I know how she thinks.
Chapra 146
She go after wyhave matters most to Carratia'
"The charity gala, Chen said, reatuation dawang on her face. "We in two days very sensorer has somed
"That would be her style, Hernd agreed weakly exhaustion starting to genre km Mamun meri PitchS Complete destruction
Morgen stood, aiready putting out this phone contact Kana industrins security Have them Kuvan yderson to be
"n
"It won't be enough" Herod warned, his voice fading as fatigue washed over hans don't onderstand how far the mists go. What she's capable of
"We'll handle it, Mr. Preston, Chen assured him, but the worry in her eyes betrayed her confiden
Herod wanted
to say more, to make them understand the true nature of the theat Pose posed But his body had reached its first. The pain medication pulled him toward unconsciousness, the room growing word the stor "Check the storage unit," he managed to say "Stop her before. His voice trailed off as datiness damned him once more The last thing he heard was Agent Morgan's voice, sharp and urgent, ordering a team to Q finally be found
As Herod drifted into unconsciousness, a strange peace settled over him. He had done it. Finally. Told the truth Chores the right path, even knowing it would lead to his own punishment.
For the first time since his family's downfall, Herod Preston felt something like redemption. Whether it would be enough to stop Rose remained to be seen.
Chapter 147
Alexander Pierce stood in the ballroom of the Grand Plaza Hotel, watching his security team transform the elegant space into a fortress. Men in black suits installed hidden cameras in crystal chandeliers. Others "The sniper teams will be positioned here, here, and here," his head of security explained, pointing to locations on the blueprint spread across a table. "Full view of all approaches. No one gets within a bundred The silent threats were always the deadliest.
His phone buzzed. Stefan Rodriguez's name flashed on the screen. Alexander stepped away from the security team to take the call.
"What do you have for me?" he asked without preamble.
"My contact at Bessonov's club just called," Stefan's voice was tense, urgent. "Rose met with Anton yesterday. Paid him a large amount of cash."
Alexander's grip tightened on the phone. "For what?"
"He wouldn't say exactly. But it wasn't just muscle. She asked for
something special. Something with 'impact."
A cold knot formed in Alexander's stomach. "Explosives?"
"Maybe. Or worse." Stefan paused. "You need to check everything that comes into that ballroom. Food deliveries, Flower arrangements. Staff uniforms. Everything."
"We already are." Alexander looked across the ballroom, where security personnel were using dogs to sniff every package, every decoration. "What else can you tell me about her tactics? How she thinks?" Stefan was silent for a moment. "Rose likes to strike where it hurts most. She won't just go after the building or random guests. She'll target what matters to Camille personally."
"The Phoenix Foundation donations."
"Yes. Or the people Camille cares about. You. Victoria. Maybe even her parents if they're attending.”
Alexander's jaw tightened. "They are."
"Then watch them closely. Rose knows hurting them would destroy Camille in a way that physical harm to Camille herself never could."
Alexander made a mental note to assign additional security to the Lewis family and Victoria. "Anything else?"
"Yes." Stefan's voice dropped lower. "Rose won't come herself. Not directly. She'll use someone else. Someone no one would suspect."
"Like who?"
"Someone desperate for money. Someone who needs a job. A waiter. A valet. A last-
minute replacement for a sick staff member."
Alexander turned toward the hotel manager, who was reviewing staff assignments nearby. "We'll
check every employee. Run background checks
on everyone who enters the building."
"It might not be enough," Stefan warned. "Rose is... creative. She thinks steps ahead."
"So do I," Alexander said firmly. "Keep working your
contacts. If you hear anything else, call me immediately." "I will."
After ending the call, Alexander summoned his team
leaders. In rapid succession, he ordered additional security measures: background checks on all hotel staff extended to family members and associates; bomb- sniffing dogs to check every guest as they arrived; facial recognition software programmed with Rose's features to scan the crowd continuously.
"Sir,"
one of his team leaders said hesitantly, "some of these measures are quite... intrusive. The guests may object."
"I don't care," Alexander said flatly. "Better uncomfortable guests than dead ones."
The man nodded and returned to his duties. Alexander checked his watch. Four hours until
Camille would arrive to inspect the arrangements. Four hours
to make this place impenetrable.
His phone rang again. Camille.
"How's it going?" she asked, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of tension.
"We're turning the Grand Plaza into Fort Knox, Alexander assured her. "No one gets in without being thoroughly checked."
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"Stefan called," Camille said. "He told me about Rose meeting with Bessonov."
"I'm handling it."
A pause. "I had another nightmare last night."
Alexander stopped pacing. Camille rarely mentioned her nightmares, though he knew she still had them sometimes." About the gala?"
"Yes." Her voice was quieter now. "Everyone was there. Smiling. Celebrating. Then everything went dark. When the lights came back on, people were screaming. There was blood on my dress."
"It was just a dream," Alexander said gently, though his own unease deepened. "The security we have in place..."
"I know." Camille cut him off. "I know it's just anxiety. But I can't shake this feeling, Alexander. Like we're missing something obvious."
Alexander looked around the ballroom, at the dozens of highly trained security personnel, at the
state-of-the-
art equipment being installed. What could they possibly be missing?
"I'll go over everything again," he promised. "Triple-check every detail."
"Thank you." She paused. "I love you, you know."
The simple statement caught him off guard. "I love you too. Are you okay?"
"Yes. Just... be careful. I'll see you soon."
After they hung
up, Alexander stood motionless for a moment, Camille's words echoing in his mind. The fear in her voice had been subtle but unmistakable. Not fear for herself, but for him. For everyone she loved. With renewed determination, Alexander turned to the hotel's head of security. "I want to see the complete staff list. Everyone who will be in this building tonight. From the head chef to the parking attendants." "Yes, sir. Right away."
As the man hurried off, Alexander's phone buzzed with a text from Stefan: "Rose always has a backup plan. Always."
Alexander texted back: "So do I."
But even as he returned to reviewing security protocols, a nagging doubt crept
into his mind. What if it wasn't enough? What if Rose had found a way around all their precautions?
What if Camille's nightmare was a warning?
***
Two hours later, Camille stood in her apartment, staring at the gown laid out
on her bed. The deep blue silk seemed to shimmer even in the dim light of her
bedroom. A gown fit for the hostess of the most prestigious charity event of
the year.
So why did looking at it fill her with dread?
Victoria sat in the armchair by the window, watching Camille with concern. "We
can still cancel," she
said quietly. "No one would blame us, given the circumstances."
"No." Camille turned away from the dress. "The hospital needs this funding. And I won't let Rose take this away from us too."
Victoria didn't look convinced. "Security reports just came in. Alexander has transformed the Grand Plaza into a military zone. But even he admits there are vulnerabilities. Staff changes. Deliveries. A hundred s "Stefan is helping," Camille reminded her. "He knows how Rose thinks. What she might
try."
"Stefan lost to Rose once before," Victoria pointed out. "When he chose her over you. His judgment isn't infallible."
Camille
sank onto the edge of the bed, smoothing the silk of the gown with her fingertips. "I had another nightmare last night." Victoria's expression softened. "About the gala?”
"Yes." Camille looked up, meeting Victoria's gaze. "It felt so real. So... inevitable. Like watching
a movie where you know the ending but can't change it."
"Dreams aren't prophecies," Victoria said firmly. "They're just our fears taking shape in our sleep."
"I know. But this feeling won't go
away." Camille pressed a hand to her chest. "It's like a weight right here. A certainty that something terrible is coming."
lle,
Victoria rose from her chair, moving with the careful grace of someone managing constant pain. She sat beside taking her hand. "Then we don't go. We issue a statement. Send the donations directly. The hospi Camille shook her head. "If we do that, we'll be running from Rose forever. Always wondering when she'll strike next.
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Always looking over our shoulders. She squeezed Victoria's hand. "I can't live that way. Not anymore."
Victoria studied her adopted daughter's face, pride mingling with worry in her eyes. "You've come so far from the woman I found in that parking garage."
"Because of you," Camille said softly. "You taught me to face
my fears. To transform pain into power"
"Perhaps I taught you too well," Victoria murmured. "Sometimes wisdom lies in strategic retreat."
"Not this time." Camille stood, renewed determination straightening her spine. "Alexander has done everything possible to secure the gala. Stefan has provided insights into Rose's tactics. We're as prepared as Victoria rose more slowly, wincing slightly as she put weight on her left leg. The pain from her cancer was getting worse, though she tried to hide it. "Then at least promise me you'll stay close to Alexander all nig
"I promise."
Victoria nodded, apparently satisfied. "I should go. My security team is waiting downstairs. I need to change for tonight."
After Victoria left, Camille returned to staring at the gown on her bed. The feeling of
dread hadn't disappeared. If anything, it had grown stronger, a shadow at the edge of her consciousness that refused to be dismissed.
She picked up her phone, scrolling to Alexander's number. Her finger hovered over the call button. What would she say? That she was afraid of a dream? That despite all their preparations, she couldn't shake t Camille put the phone down without calling. Alexander was already doing everything humanly possible to protect the gala. Her fears would only distract him.
Instead, she turned to get ready. As she stepped
into the shower, Camille tried to focus on the positive. The money they would raise tonight. The children who would benefit from the new hospital wing. The statement they would make by proceeding despite the But as water cascaded over her shoulders, Camille couldn't help but feel like she was preparing for her own funeral rather than a celebration.
"Stop it," she told herself firmly. "This is just what Rose wants. For
you to be afraid. To doubt yourself."
Camille finished her shower and began drying her hair, forcing herself to go through the familiar motions of preparation. Hair. Makeup. Jewelry. The routine helped calm her nerves, pushing the nameless dread As she slipped into the blue silk gown, Camille caught her reflection in the full-
length mirror. The woman who stared back at her looked confident, powerful, unafraid. The perfect image of Camille Kane, heir to Victoria's empire, hostess of the most exclusive event of the season. Only her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil.
Camille took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders. Whatever happened tonight, she would face it with the strength and dignity Victoria had taught her. She would not cower. Would not hide.
Even as the shadow of her nightmare hung over her like
a storm cloud ready to break.
Her phone chimed with a text from Alexander: "Everything secure. Ready when you are."
Camille replied: "On my way."
With one last look in the mirror, she gathered her small clutch purse and headed
for the door. The gala awaited. Her guests would soon arrive. The show must go on.
Despite the voice in her head that whispered: Danger is coming. Danger is coming. Danger is coming.
And there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Chapter 148
Camille knocked on Victoria's office door, files clutched under her arm. The security plans for the
gala needed one final approval, and despite Victoria's reluctance about the event, Camille knew she would want to review the details.
When no answer came, she knocked again.
Still silence.
Camille turned the handle, expecting to find the office empty. Instead, she found Victoria slumped in her chair, eyes closed, face pale as paper. A small bottle of pills had tipped over on the desk, its contents sca
Victoria's eyes fluttered open. For a moment, confusion clouded her face, then recognition dawned. "Camille. I was just resting my eyes."
But Camille wasn't listening. Her gaze had locked on the pill bottle. The label faced upward, the word "OXYCODONE" visible in bold print, along with Victoria's name.
"What are these?" Camille picked up the bottle, dread pooling in her stomach. "Why are you
taking such strong pain medication?"
Victoria straightened in her chair, composing
herself with visible effort. "It's nothing. Just some discomfort from the surgery."
"This isn't for 'some discomfort," Camille said, reading the dosage on the label. "This is for serious pain. And your surgery was months ago. You should be fully healed by now."
Victoria reached for the bottle, but Camille pulled it away.
"Tell me the truth." Camille's voice shook. "What's really going on?"
Something shifted in Victoria's
eyes, a surrender, a resignation. She sighed deeply, then opened her
desk drawer and pulled out a folder.
"I was going to tell you after the gala," she said, sliding the folder across the desk. "I didn't want to distract you. Not with Rose still out there. Not with everything at stake." Camille stared at the folder, afraid to open it. The hospital logo embossed on its cover told her everything she needed to know.
"How bad is it?" she whispered.
"Open it," Victoria said gently.
With trembling fingers, Camille opened
the folder. Medical terms jumped out at her: "metastatic pancreatic carcinoma," " stage four," "poor prognosis." Dates of treatments. Surgical notes. Oncologist recommendations.
But one sentence burned into her brain: "Estimated survival: 3-6 months."
The room tilted around her. Camille gripped the edge of the desk to steady herself.
"Three to six months?" Her voice sounded strange in her own ears, distant and hollow. "That's... that can't be right.”
"The estimates are often conservative," Victoria said, her tone matter-of-
fact. "I could have longer."
"Or shorter." The words escaped before Camille could stop them.
Victoria didn't answer, which was answer enough.
"How long have you known?" Camille asked, papers crumpling in her tight grip.
"Since before the bombing of
the substations. The first symptoms started even earlier."
Camille stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. "All this time?
All these months, you've been dying, and you didn't tell me?"
"I was protecting you."
"From what?" Camille's voice rose. "From the
truth? From having time to prepare? From being able to help you?"
Victoria's face softened, showing a vulnerability Camille had rarely seen. "From pain, Camille. I was protecting you from pain. You've had enough of that in your life."
"That wasn't your choice to make!" Tears spilled down Camille's cheeks now, hot and angry. "We're supposed to be partners. Family. You don't keep something like this from family." Victoria flinched at the word "family," and suddenly Camille understood.
"You didn't tell me because you didn't want me to act like your daughter,” she said, the realization bitter in her mouth. "You
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wanted me to focus on the company. On becoming your successor."
"No." Victoria reached for Camille's hand, but Camille stepped back. "That's not it at all."
"Then why?" Camille demanded. "Why hide something this important?",
Victoria stood with effort, her face tightening with pain as she moved. "Because I couldn't bear to see you look at me the way you're looking at me now. With pity. With grief. Like I'm already gone." "How did you expect me to look when I found out the woman who saved my life is dying?" Camille's voice broke on the last word
Victoria moved around the desk, closing the distance between them. "I expected you to be strong. To be ready to carry on without me. That's what I've been preparing you for all along."
"I thought you were preparing me to work beside you," Camille said. “Not to replace you."
Victoria took Camille's hands, her grip surprisingly
firm despite her weakened state. "Listen to me. What we've built together,Kane Industries, the Phoenix Grid, your transformation, it can't
end when I do. It needs to continue. You need to continue,"
Camille pulled her hands away. "How can you talk about business at a time like this? We should be discussing treatments. Specialists. Clinical trials."
"I've seen every specialist worth seeing," Victoria said patiently. "Tried every treatment with any chance of success. The cancer has spread too far, too fast."
"So you're just giving up?" Anger flared again, hot and desperate. "The Victoria Kane I know would never surrender without a fight."
"I have fought." For the first time, real
emotion cracked Victoria's composed exterior. "I have fought with everything I have. But some battles can't be won, Camille. Some enemies can't be defeated through sheer will." The vulnerability in Victoria's voice - something Camille had never heard before -
punctured her anger. Suddenly, she saw not the formidable
businesswoman who had rescued and transformed her, but a woman facing her own mortality. Afraid. In pain. Alone.
Camille's anger dissolved, replaced by a wave of pure grief so powerful it nearly knocked her off her feet. She stumbled forward, wrapping her arms around Victoria.
"Don't leave me," she sobbed against Victoria's shoulder. "Please don't leave me, Mommy."
The word slipped out without thought, a raw, honest expression of
what Victoria had truly become to her. Not just a mentor. Not just a business
partner. But a mother who had saved her, protected her, loved her when she needed it most.
Victoria froze for a moment, then her arms came around Camille, holding her tightly. Camille felt a dampness against her hair and realized Victoria was crying too -
girl."
silent tears she had probably never allowed herself to shed in front of anyone. "My girl," Victoria whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "My wonderful
They stood like that, holding each other, tears mingling. For a moment, there was no Kane Industries, no Rose, no upcoming gala. Just a mother and daughter facing the cruelest separation.
A knock at the door interrupted them. They pulled apart as Alexander entered, his expression changing instantly as he took
in the scene, Victoria's pallor, Camille's tear-
streaked face, the medical files on the desk.
"What happened?" he asked, closing the door behind him.
Camille couldn't speak. Victoria answered for her, her voice steadier than her tear-
stained face suggested.
"She knows," Victoria said. "About my condition."
Understanding dawned on Alexander's face. "I see."
Camille spun toward him, fresh betrayal cutting through her grief. "You knew? You knew and you didn't tell me?"
Alexander approached her carefully, as one might approach a wounded animal. "It wasn't my place to tell you, Camille. Victoria asked me to respect her privacy."
"Everyone knew but me," Camille said bitterly. "My parents. You. Probably half the board members too."
"Only Alexander and your mother knew," Victoria corrected. "And only because I needed their help with certain arrangements."
"Arrangements." Camille spat the word. "You mean your will. Your
funeral plans. All the details of your death that you kept from me."
Alexander reached for her, but Camille stepped away. "Don't. Just... don't."
Victoria swayed slightly, gripping the edge of the desk. Alexander moved quickly to her side, helping her back into her chair. "You should rest," he told her. "The doctor said...."
"I know what the doctor said, Victona interrupted. "But we
have a gata in a few hours, and my daughter just received difficult news Resting can wall"
Daughter. The word hung in the air between them Victoria had never called her that before not directly. Just as Camille had never called her "Mommy" until today
"There won't be a gala: Camille said suddenly "Not tonight. Not with your live this
Especially tonight. Especially with me like this Victoria's voice regained its familiar steel "We don't show weakness, Camille Not to the world. Hot to our enemies. And certainly not to Rose
"I don't care about flose right now Camille enapped "" care about you"
"Then honar my wishes Victoria said "Stand beside me at the gata. Show everyone that Kane Industries remains strong, regardless of what happens to me personally"
Camille looked to Alexander for support, but his expression told her he agreed with Victoria Of course he did. He always saw the strategic angle, just like Victoria herself
"Fine, Camille relented, wiping tears from her cheeks. "The gala goes on. But afterwards, we talk about treatment options Real options, not just palliative care
Victoria nodded, though something in her eyes suggested she was merely humoring Camille 'Of course'
"I need some air," Camille said, moving toward the door. 'Till be on the roof"
She left without looking back, unable to bear another moment in that office with its medical files and pill bottles and unspoken goodbyes.
The elevator ride to the roof passed in a blur. Once outside, the cold air hit her face, a shock that somehow failed to clear her mind. Camille walked to the edge, gripping the railing as she looked out over the city Victoria was dying. The woman who had saved her, transformed her, given
her a second chance at life-was slipping away. And Camille hadn't even noticed.
She heard the roof door open
behind her but didn't turn. Alexander's footsteps approached, stopping just behind her.
"Go away." Camille said. "I don't want to talk right now."
Instead of leaving, Alexander moved beside her at the railing. "Then we won't talk."
They stood in silence, watching the city below. After a long while, Camille spoke.
"How long have you known?"
"Since just after her surgery," Alexander admitted. “She made me promise not to tell you."
"And you always keep your promises," Camille said bitterly.
"Not always." Alexander's voice was gentle. "But I try to respect the wishes of
people I care about. Victoria wanted to tell you herself, when she felt you were ready."
"When would that have been? At her funeral?"
"She was trying to protect you."
"That's what she said too." Camille's grip tightened on the railing. "But it feels more like she didn't trust me. Didn't think I was strong enough to handle the truth.”
Alexander turned to face her. "Victoria has never doubted your strength, Camille. If anything, she was protecting herself. From your grief. From having to face what her death would mean to you."
Camille hadn't considered that. That Victoria, stoic, practical Victoria, might be afraid of emotional vulnerability. Of seeing her own pain reflected in Camille's eyes.
"I called her Mommy," Camille whispered, still shocked by her own outburst. "I've never called her that before." Alexander's expression softened. "What did she do?"
"She cried," Camille said, the memory fresh and painful. "I've never seen her cry before."
Alexander pulled her into his arms then, holding her as fresh tears came. "That's because you gave her something she never thought she'd have again after Sophia died. A daughter who loves her as a mother,
"I can't lose her," Camille sobbed. "I can't do this without her."
"Yes, you can," Alexander said, his voice firm but gentle. "It will hurt. It will feel impossible. But you are stronger than you know, Camille. Victoria sees that strength in you, even if you don't see it yourself."
Camille
pulled back enough to look at him, her vision blurred with tears. "How do I face this? How do I walk into that gala
tonight and pretend everything is normal when my world is falling apart?"
Alexander wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "One step at a time. One moment at a time. And not alone." He pressed his forehead to hers. "Never alone."
Camille closed her eyes, drawing strength from his presence. After a while, her breathing steadied. The initial shock of Victoria's revelation was fading, leaving a dull ache in its place.
"We should go back down," she said eventually. "Victoria needs us. And we have a gala to prepare for."
Alexander nodded, taking her hand as they walked toward the door. Just before they reached it, Camille paused.
"Alexander," she said quietly. "Promise me something."
"Anything."
"No more secrets. No matter how painful the truth might be. No matter who asks you to keep it from me." Her eyes held his, demanding honesty. "Promise me."
Alexander looked at her for a long moment, then nodded. "I promise."
Camille took a deep breath, then opened the door. It was time to face Victoria again. Time to face the future however difficult, however painful, that awaited them all.
As Camille stepped inside, she wondered if this was what
true strength meant, not the absence of pain, but the ability to carry it without being crushed beneath its weight.
Chapter 149
Spotlights swept across the Grand Plaza Hotel's ballroom, catching on crystal chandeliers that scattered light like diamonds. Underneath them, New York's elite mingled in formal wear that cost more than most people earned in months. Women draped in silk and jewels. Men in perfectly tailored tuxedos. The soft notes of a string quartet floated above the murmur of conversations and tinkling champagne glasses.
Camille Kane stood just outside the ballroom doors, watching through a crack. Her blue gown shimmered in the dim light of the hallway, but she had never felt less festive.
"Security check complete," said Jason, Alexander's head of security, into his earpiece. "Main floor is clear. Balconies and kitchens clear. All entrances covered."
Camille nodded, barely hearing him. Her thoughts remained with Victoria, who was gathering her strength in a private room upstairs before making her entrance.
"Camille." Alexander's voice brought her back to the present. He stood beside her in his tuxedo, handsome as ever, though worry lined his eyes. "Everyone's waiting. It's time."
She smoothed her dress, checking her reflection in a nearby mirror. Hours of professional makeup had hidden the evidence of her tears, but nothing could conceal the sorrow in her eyes.
"I can't believe we're doing this," she whispered. "Pretending everything is normal when Victoria is...."
"Following her wishes," Alexander cut in gently. "Being exactly who she's always been."
Camille touched the phoenix pendant at her throat. "I just want to keep her safe."
"I know." Alexander squeezed her hand. "That's why we have thirty security personnel in the ballroom alone. Another twenty covering the surrounding blocks. Two teams on the roof. Nothing gets through tonight."
Camille wished she could believe him. But the dread that had haunted her since her nightmare remained, hovering at the edges of her mind like a shadow.
"Ms. Kane?" Another security guard approached. "Ms. Victoria Kane is ready for you."
They followed him to a small elevator reserved for staff. As the doors closed, Camille's stomach knotted with anxiety-not for herself, but for what waited upstairs.
The private room on the tenth floor had been converted into a makeshift preparation area. Victoria sat in a chair by the window, her silver hair styled elegantly, her black evening gown showing no hint of the weight she had lost. Only the pallor of her skin and the slight tremor in her hands betrayed her condition.
She looked up as Camille entered, a flicker of vulnerability crossing her face before her usual mask of strength slid back into place.
"You look beautiful," Victoria said.
Camille approached, kneeling before Victoria's chair to look up into her face. "How are you feeling? Really?"
"Well enough for what needs to be done." Victoria touched Camille's cheek. "No more tears now. Tonight isn't about my illness. It's about what we've built together."
Camille nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "The doctor said you should only stay an hour. Two at most."
"I'll stay as long as necessary." Victoria stood with effort, her back straight despite the pain Camille knew she must be feeling. "Now, help me with these earrings. My hands aren't cooperating tonight."
Camille fastened the diamond earrings, noticing how Victoria's cheekbones had become more prominent, how the skin of her neck had grown thinner. Signs she had missed for months.
"Are you ready for your speech?" Victoria asked, checking her reflection.
"Yes." Camille had spent the afternoon rewriting it, focusing on the foundation's initiatives rather than the emotional tribute to Victoria she had originally planned. Victoria had insisted on it. No hint of farewell. No suggestion of endings.
Alexander knocked and entered. "The guests are getting restless. We should make our entrance soon."
Victoria squared her shoulders. "Then let's not keep them waiting."
The three of them took the private elevator down to the main level. Security personnel lined their path to the ballroom. At the doors, the master of ceremonies waited to announce them.
"Remember," Victoria said quietly to Camille. "Head high. Shoulders back. Show no weakness."
Camille nodded, taking her place beside her mentor. The doors swung open.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer's voice boomed. "The Grand Plaza Hotel and Kane Industries are proud to present Ms. Victoria Kane and Ms. Camille Kane!"
Applause filled the room as they entered, Victoria moving with a grace that belied her condition. Camille felt the weight of hundreds of eyes upon them as they made their way through the crowd. Important people stepped forward to greet them, politicians, business leaders, celebrities. All wanting a moment with the famous Kane women.
Through it all, Camille scanned the room. Not for familiar faces, but for unfamiliar ones. For staff members who didn't belong. For anyone who might be working for Rose.
"Stop looking so tense," Victoria murmured as they accepted champagne from a waiter. "You'll make everyone nervous."
Camille forced a smile. "I can't help it. I feel like she's here. Watching us."
"If she is, she'll regret it." Victoria nodded toward the perimeter of the room, where security personnel stood at regular intervals. "Alexander has this place locked down tighter than Fort Knox."
Before Camille could respond, the mayor approached, hand extended.
"Victoria! Magnificent as always. And Camille, you look stunning." He bent to kiss Victoria's cheek. "I hear you've raised over three million tonight for the children's hospital wing."
"Four million now," Victoria corrected with a smile. "The Westfield Foundation doubled their contribution this afternoon."
The conversation continued, Victoria playing her role perfectly. If the mayor noticed her occasional winces of pain, he showed no sign. Camille stayed close, ready to support Victoria if needed, while maintaining her own part in the social dance.
After what seemed like hours but was likely only thirty minutes, the master of ceremonies called for attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats for dinner and the program."
As guests moved toward the elegantly set tables, Alexander appeared at Camille's side.
"Everything okay?" he asked quietly.
"So far." Camille glanced at Victoria, who was now seated at the head table, engaged in conversation with the hospital director. "Any sign of trouble?"
"None. Every guest has been verified. Every staff member checked and double- checked." He touched the small earpiece he wore. "Security teams are reporting all clear at regular intervals."
Camille nodded, not entirely relieved. "Keep watching."
"Always." Alexander escorted her to her seat beside Victoria.
Dinner passed in a blur of exquisite food that Camille barely tasted and conversation she hardly heard. Her focus remained on Victoria, who ate little but spoke with animation, her public persona never slipping.
When the dessert plates were cleared, the master of ceremonies returned to the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen, it is my honor to introduce Ms. Camille Kane, Executive Director of the Phoenix Foundation."
The ballroom erupted in applause as Camille stood and made her way to the podium. Hundreds of expectant faces turned toward her. In the back of the room, security personnel remained vigilant. Camille took a deep breath and began.
"Thank you all for coming tonight. Your generosity will change countless lives." She looked out at the audience, fixing a smile on her face. "The Phoenix Foundation was born from a simple truth: that from the ashes of our darkest moments, we can rise stronger."
As she spoke, Camille felt a strange sensation. A prickling at the back of her neck. The feeling of being watched, not by the audience, but by someone else. Someone hidden.
She continued her speech, describing the foundation's three major initiatives: a nationwide network of shelters for abuse survivors; legal support for those seeking to escape dangerous relationships; and education programs to help women rebuild their lives.
"Tonight, I'm proud to announce that the Phoenix Foundation's first shelter will open next month right here in New York." Applause interrupted her. "This facility will offer not just safety, but comprehensive support, from legal aid to job training to trauma counseling."
As the audience applauded again, Camille's gaze swept the room. The feeling of being watched had intensified. Her eyes caught on a server standing near the kitchen doors. Something about her posture seemed off. Too still. Too focused.
Camille faltered slightly, then recovered. "In addition, we are establishing a scholarship program for survivors seeking to continue their education..."
She finished her speech to enthusiastic applause, but her mind was elsewhere. As she returned to her seat, she leaned close to Alexander.
"The server by the kitchen door. Dark hair. Red lipstick. Check her."
Alexander nodded subtly, touching his earpiece to relay the instruction.
Victoria squeezed Camille's hand under the table. "Beautifully done," she whispered. "I'm proud of you."
The words, so simple, made Camille's eyes sting with unshed tears. How many more times would she hear Victoria say that? How many more moments like this did they have left?
The master of ceremonies returned to introduce Victoria. As she rose to approach the podium, Camille noticed how she gripped the table for support, how carefully she measured each step. But by the time Victoria reached the microphone, she stood tall and commanding, every inch the powerful woman the world knew. "Twenty years ago," Victoria began, her voice strong despite her weakened state, "Kane Industries was just a dream. Today, it stands as proof that with vision and determination, anything is possible."
As Victoria spoke about the company's commitment to philanthropy, Camille watched Alexander receive a message through his earpiece. His expression remained neutral, but she saw his posture tighten. Something was wrong.
He slipped back to their table, bending to whisper in Camille's ear. one matching that description is on the approved staff list
"The server is gone.
for tonight."
Camille's blood ran cold. "Find her."
Alexander nodded, moving away to coordinate with his security team.
On stage, Victoria continued her speech, unaware of the potential threat. "The Phoenix Foundation represents the future of Kane Industries' philanthropic efforts. Under Camille's leadership, it will transform countless lives..."
Camille tried to focus on Victoria's words, but her attention kept returning to the ballroom doors, the kitchen entrance, the service corridors. Where had the mysterious server gone? What was she planning?
And then, as Victoria concluded her speech to thunderous applause, Camille saw
her. Not the server this time. A woman in a green evening gown, her dark hair pulled back in an elegant twist, standing near the exit. For a split second, their eyes met across the crowded room.
Rose.
Despite the distance, despite the subtle changes to her appearance, Camille knew her sister instantly. The recognition hit her like a physical blow.
Rose smiled, a small, knowing smile, then turned and disappeared through the
exit.
Camille stood, heart pounding. "Alexander!" she called, but he was already moving toward the exit, security personnel following.
Victoria returned to the table, flushed with the success of her speech but clearly exhausted. "What's wrong?" she asked, seeing Camille's face.
"Rose is here," Camille said quietly, not wanting to cause panic. "I just saw her."
Victoria's expression hardened. "Are you sure?"
"Positive."
Victoria reached for her clutch purse, removing a small phone. "I had hoped we
wouldn't need this," she said, pressing a single button. "But I came prepared." Within moments, additional security personnel entered the ballroom, positioning themselves near all exits and around their table. The head of Victoria's private security team approached.
"The building is being locked down, Ms. Kane," he said quietly. "No one leaves until we find her."
Camille looked around at the guests, still enjoying their drinks and conversation as the orchestra began playing for dancing. "We can't cause a panic."
"We won't," Victoria assured her. "The security teams will handle this discreetly."
But Camille couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. Rose wouldn't show herself without a reason. Without a plan.
"She wanted me to see her," Camille realized aloud. "She wanted me to know she was here."
"Why?" Victoria asked.
Before Camille could answer, Alexander returned, his expression grim.
"She's gone," he reported. "Security footage shows her leaving the building two
minutes ago. But that's not all." He lowered his voice further. "The missing server was found unconscious in a storage closet. Her uniform is gone." Camille scanned the crowd, looking for any staff member who seemed out of place. "She has someone else inside." "We're checking everyone now," Alexander assured her.
Victoria touched Camille's arm. "We should leave. It's not safe."
Camille shook her head. "No. That's what she wants. To disrupt the gala. To make
us run scared." She looked at Alexander. "Double the security around Victoria. I'm
going to finish what we started tonight."
As Alexander moved to comply, Camille took Victoria's hand. "I won't let her ruin this. Not after everything you've done to make it happen."
Victoria studied Camille's face, then nodded slowly. "Very well. But you stay where
I can see you. No wandering off."
The orchestra continued playing, the dance floor filling with elegantly dressed
couples. The charity auction was about to begin, with priceless art and luxury experiences up for bid. The gala was in full swing, with hours still to go.
But beneath the glittering surface, tension ran like an electric current. Security
personnel moved through the crowd, checking every server, every staff member.
Alexander stood at Camille's side, hyperaware, watching every movement in the ballroom.
As Victoria presented the first auction item, a week at a private island resort, Camille felt the weight of Rose's presence like a shadow. She was here. Maybe not physically anymore, but her threat remained. Waiting. Watching. Planning. The feeling of danger hung over Camille like a storm cloud, making the hairs on her arms stand on end. Whatever Rose had planned, it was still coming. The gala continued around them, champagne flowing, music playing, wealthy
donors bidding higher and higher amounts for charity. But for Camille, every moment stretched with tension, every laugh seemed too loud, every movement in the corner of her eye a potential threat.
Rose had made her move tonight, not to attack, but to send a message: I can
reach you anywhere. Even in your moment of triumph. Even surrounded by
security.
And there was nothing Camille could do but wait for the next strike, knowing it would come when they least expected it.
Chapter 150
Rose adjusted the black bow tie of her server's uniform, checking her reflection in the service elevator's mirrored wall. The disguise was perfect, hair tucked under a cap, face subtly altered with makeup to change her bone structure. No one would recognize her as the woman in the green dress who had shown herself to Camille earlier.
That had been the distraction. This was the real plan.
"Two minutes," the man beside her said, his Russian accent thick even in those two words. Anton Bessonov had sent his best, Mikhail, a man whose hands had ended many lives. Tonight, those hands carried a black duffel bag that would end many more.
Rose nodded, glancing at her watch. "Security will be focused on the ballroom now. The maintenance corridors should be clear."
The elevator stopped at the basement level. When the doors opened, Rose peered out first, confirming the hallway was empty before stepping out. Mikhail followed, his movements fluid despite his large frame.
"This way," Rose whispered, leading him down a dim corridor lined with pipes. The building plans she had memorized guided her through the maze of service areas beneath the Grand Plaza Hotel.
They reached a junction where the corridor split three ways. "You take the west wing," she instructed, pointing left. "I'll handle the east. We meet back here in twenty minutes."
Mikhail unzipped the duffel bag, revealing six identical black devices. He handed three to Rose. Each was the size of a paperback book, with a digital timer and a small red light.
"Remember," he said, his voice low and serious. "Place them near support columns. Set timer for sixty minutes."
Rose took the devices, sliding them carefully into her uniform's large pockets. "I know what to do."
As Mikhail headed down the west corridor, Rose turned east, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. After months of planning, after all the setbacks, she was finally going to win. Finally going to take everything from Camille, just as Camille had taken everything from her.
The first location was the electrical room. Rose slipped inside, finding it mercifully empty. She moved quickly to the main circuit breaker panel, using the magnetic back of the first device to attach it to the metal surface. The tiny screen lit up as she set the timer: 60:00. 59:59. 59:58...
The countdown had begun.
***
Stefan Rodriguez sipped champagne at the bar, feeling distinctly out of place among the glittering elite of New York society. He hadn't expected an invitation to the Phoenix Foundation gala. When it arrived, his first instinct had been to decline. After all, what place did Camille's ex-husband have at her triumphant moment?
But Alexander Pierce had called personally, explaining that Stefan's intelligence about Rose had been valuable. That his continued help was appreciated. That his presence would show unity against a common enemy.
So here he stood, in a rented tuxedo, watching from a distance as Camille dazzled the crowd. She looked happy, confident, completely transformed from the broken woman who had signed divorce papers eighteen months ago. The sight filled Stefan with a complicated mixture of regret and pride.
"Another champagne, sir?" a server asked.
Stefan shook his head, setting down his half-empty glass. "No, thank you."
As the server moved away, Stefan's attention caught on something unusual, a man in hotel staff uniform entering a door marked "Authorized Personnel Only" near the kitchens. What struck Stefan as odd wasn't the act itself, but the way the man checked his watch as he did it. The careful glance around before entering. The subtle bulge in his jacket pocket.
Stefan had spent months learning Rose's patterns, her associates, her tactics. That vigilance had become second nature to him.
He set down his glass and moved casually toward the door, pretending to look for the restroom. When he reached it, he hesitated only briefly before pushing it open.
Inside was a service corridor, dimly lit and silent. Stefan closed the door quietly behind him and followed the hallway, his footsteps echoing slightly on the hard floor.
Around a corner, he caught sight of the man again. He was kneeling beside an ornate column that supported the ceiling, placing something against its base. Something small and black, with a glowing digital display.
Stefan's blood ran cold as understanding dawned. He backed away slowly, careful not to make a sound, then turned and moved quickly back toward the ballroom. He needed to find security. Now.
***
The second device went beneath the kitchen, tucked against a main support beam. Rose worked quickly, efficiently. The kitchen staff was too busy preparing desserts to notice her slip in and out through the back entrance.
As she headed for her third location, the main ventilation system, Rose caught sight of a security guard patrolling the corridor ahead. She ducked into a small cleaning closet, holding her breath as his footsteps approached, then passed. Her heart hammered against her ribcage.
This was the part she loved, the danger, the risk, the knowledge that discovery meant failure. But she wouldn't fail. Not tonight. Not when she was so close to destroying everything Camille had built.
When the footsteps faded, Rose continued on her path. The ventilation room was locked, but the key she had taken from the unconscious maintenance worker opened it easily. Inside, massive fans circulated air throughout the building. Rose placed her final device where the blast would damage the maximum number of ducts, potentially filling the entire building with smoke and debris.
Timer set. 42:17. 42:16. 42:15...
She checked her watch. Five minutes until she needed to meet Mikhail. Plenty of time to make her way back through the service corridors. She closed the ventilation room door behind her, locking it to prevent anyone from discovering her handiwork too soon.
As she turned toward the rendezvous point, a voice made her freeze.
"Excuse me, you shouldn't be here."
Rose turned slowly, finding herself face to face with a hotel security guard. His hand rested on his radio, ready to call for backup.
She smiled sweetly. "I'm so sorry. I got lost looking for the storage room. They sent me to get more napkins for the bar."
The guard's expression remained suspicious. "ID badge?"
Rose fumbled in her pocket as if searching for it, then brought her hand out in a swift, practiced motion. The taser made contact with the guard's neck before he could react. He dropped to the floor, body convulsing briefly before going still. Rose dragged him into the nearby cleaning closet, taking his radio and security badge. She couldn't risk him waking and raising the alarm too early.
Time to meet Mikhail and get out before the real show began.
***
"Mr. Pierce." Stefan approached Alexander with urgency, keeping his voice low to avoid alarming nearby guests. "We need to talk. Now."
Alexander excused himself from a conversation with donors and moved to a quieter corner with Stefan. "What is it?"
"I just saw a man placing what looked like an explosive device near a support column in the service corridor." Stefan's words came out in a rush. "Russian, large build, staff uniform."
Alexander's face hardened. "You're sure?"
"Absolutely." Stefan had never been more certain of anything in his life. "Rose is making her move tonight."
Without hesitation, Alexander tapped his earpiece. "Jason, potential explosives in the building. Lock down all service areas immediately. Full sweep, starting with support columns and infrastructure." He turned back to Stefan. "Where exactly did you see this?"
Stefan described the location, watching as Alexander relayed the information to his security team. Within moments, dark-suited men were discreetly moving toward service doors around the ballroom perimeter.
"We need to evacuate," Stefan said.
Alexander shook his head. "Not yet. If we cause a panic, Rose wins. We need to find the devices first, confirm they're real." He checked his watch. "Camille is about to give her keynote speech. Keep this quiet until we know more."
"And if they are real?" Stefan pressed.
"Then we have evacuation protocols ready." Alexander's expression was grim. "Thank you for the alert. Stay close in case you recognize anyone else suspicious."
Alexander moved back into the crowd, his posture casual but his movements purposeful. Stefan watched him gather his security team leaders for quiet instructions, all while maintaining the appearance that nothing was wrong. On the stage, the master of ceremonies approached the microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back to the stage the Executive Director of the Phoenix Foundation, Ms. Camille Kane, who will deliver tonight's keynote address."
***
Rose and Mikhail met in the basement corridor as planned. His face showed satisfaction, he had placed all three devices successfully.
"Any problems?" Rose asked.
"None." His thick accent wrapped around the word. "All set for big boom."
Rose checked her watch. "Thirty-four minutes until detonation. We need to be well clear by then." She handed him the security guard's radio. "Keep this. We'll know if they discover the devices."
As they turned toward the service exit, the radio crackled to life. "All security personnel, Code Bravo. Repeat, Code Bravo. Immediate sweep of all service areas. Potential suspicious packages."
Rose and Mikhail exchanged alarmed looks. Someone had spotted them.
"We go now," Mikhail said urgently. "Different exits."
Rose nodded. "Meet at the backup location in one hour." She could hear footsteps coming from multiple directions now. Security would have every exit covered
soon.
"What about devices?" Mikhail asked. "They will find."
Rose smiled, cold and confident despite her racing heart. "That's why we had backups planted yesterday. They're hidden too well to be found in time." Even if security found these six devices, they wouldn't find the others. The ones already in place. The ones set to detonate during Camille's speech.
"Go," she ordered Mikhail, turning in the opposite direction. As she ran, Rose imagined the scene above, Camille taking the stage, smiling at the adoring crowd, completely unaware that her moment of triumph was about to become her greatest tragedy.
Thirty-two minutes until the foundation she had built crumbled around her.
***
Camille approached the podium, smiling as applause filled the ballroom. From her
elevated position, she could see nearly all eight hundred guests, the flash of
expensive jewelry under crystal chandeliers, the expectant faces turned toward
her.
She could also see Alexander moving around the perimeter of the room, speaking urgently into his earpiece. Something was wrong. But the microphone was already live, her speech about to begin.
Victoria sat at the head table, looking pale but proud. Whatever was happening, Camille couldn't show alarm. Couldn't let the crowd sense any danger. She had learned that much from Victoria, appearances mattered, especially in crisis.
She took a deep breath and began.
"Distinguished guests, generous donors, dear friends. Tonight represents not just the launch of the Phoenix Foundation, but the beginning of a new chapter for survivors of abuse across this country."
As she spoke, Camille noticed more security personnel entering the ballroom,
moving with controlled urgency toward service doors and exits. Stefan stood near Alexander now, both men looking grim.
Still, she continued, keeping her voice steady despite the growing knot of fear in
her stomach.
"The phoenix rises from ashes, transformed by fire into something stronger, more beautiful. That transformation is what we offer to women who have lost everything, their safety, their confidence, their hope."
Through the bright lights, Camille could see Alexander receiving information through his earpiece, his expression darkening. Security teams were fanning out across the ballroom now, some kneeling to check under tables, others examining the walls and support columns.
They were looking for something. Something dangerous.
Rose. It had to be Rose.
Despite the realization, Camille's voice remained strong, her words clear. She wouldn't give Rose the satisfaction of seeing her falter.
"Tonight, as we gather in celebration, I'm reminded of my own journey. Of the moments when I thought I couldn't go on. When the pain and betrayal seemed too much to bear."
Camille locked eyes with Victoria, drawing strength from the woman who had saved her, who had taught her to transform pain into power. Victoria nodded slightly, a signal to continue despite whatever was happening behind the scenes. "But I did go on. We all do. And with your help, countless women will find the strength to rise from their own ashes, to rebuild their lives brick by brick, to discover the power that has always existed within them."
The ballroom erupted in applause, but Camille barely heard it. Her focus remained split between her speech and the increasingly frantic movements of security personnel. Something was very wrong. She could feel it in the air, thick with tension that only she and a few others seemed to notice.