Ch. 156..160: SCORNED EX WIFE Chapter 156-160

Chapter 156

The hospital room was too quiet. Only the steady beep of monitors and the whisper of the oxygen machine broke the silence. Camille sat beside Victoria's bed, her hand gently holding the older woman's fragile fingers. Three days had passed since the bombing. Three days of watching Victoria struggle, hour by hour.

The doctors had explained it in simple terms at first: Victoria's body, already fighting cancer, couldn't handle the additional strain of smoke inhalation and shock. Her lungs were struggling. Her heart was weakening. Each breath seemed to cost her more than the last.

Camille leaned forward, studying Victoria's pale face. The woman who had always seemed invincible now looked small against the white hospital sheets. The tubes and wires connected to her body only emphasized her fragility.

"You need to eat something," Alexander said softly from the doorway. He carried a paper bag that smelled of soup and bread.

Camille shook her head without looking up. "I'm not hungry."

Alexander moved to her side, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "You haven't left this room in thirty-six hours. You need food. Rest."

"I can't leave her," Camille whispered, her voice catching. "What if she wakes up and I'm not here? What if she..."

She couldn't finish the sentence. Couldn't speak the fear that had haunted her for three days.

Alexander pulled a chair beside her and sat down. "The doctors are doing everything they can."

"Is it enough?" Camille asked, her eyes never leaving Victoria's face. "The last update wasn't promising."

Alexander didn't argue. There was no point pretending things weren't serious.

Camille looked down at Victoria's hand in hers, the skin thin, blue veins visible beneath the surface. This hand had pulled her from darkness. Had shown her how to rebuild her life. Had taught her strength when she believed herself broken beyond repair.

"I can't lose her," Camille said, her voice barely audible. "Not like this. Not because of Rose."

"This isn't your fault," Alexander said firmly.

"Isn't it? Rose targeted the gala because of me. She planted those bombs to destroy what I had built." Camille's free hand curled into a fist. "If Victoria dies because of that..."

"She would tell you not to think that way."

Camille knew he was right. Victoria would never allow such self-pity. Would never permit Camille to shoulder blame that wasn't hers. But knowing that didn't ease the crushing weight in her chest.

The monitors beeped, slightly faster than before. Victoria's eyelids fluttered but didn't open.

"Should I call the nurse?" Alexander asked, already half-rising from his chair. Camille shook her head. "It happens sometimes. They said it's normal."

Normal. What a strange word to describe any of this. Nothing had been normal since the night of the gala. The bombing had made national news. The Phoenix Foundation's triumphant launch had become a story of terrorism and tragedy. And Victoria, who had been slowly losing her battle with cancer, now faced a new fight because of the smoke damage to her lungs.

A light knock on the door interrupted Camille's thoughts. Dr. Patel entered, followed by another doctor Camille hadn't seen before.

"Ms. Kane," Dr. Patel said, addressing Camille. "This is Dr. Sharma, our oncology specialist. She's been reviewing Victoria's latest test results."

Camille tensed, preparing for bad news. Alexander's hand found her shoulder, steadying her.

Dr. Sharma stepped forward, her expression thoughtful rather than grim. "We've detected something unexpected in the latest scans."

"What is it?" Camille asked, her throat tight with fear.

"The cancer appears more contained than we initially believed," Dr. Sharma explained. "Previous scans suggested spread to multiple organs, but our more detailed imaging shows the disease is primarily still concentrated in the pancreas, with only minor involvement of surrounding tissues."

Camille stared at her, trying to process what this meant. "So... it's not as bad as you thought?"

"The cancer is still serious," Dr. Sharma cautioned. "But this new finding changes our approach. With aggressive treatment, a combination of targeted radiation therapy and new immunotherapy protocols, we could potentially extend Ms. Kane's life expectancy significantly."

"How significantly?" Alexander asked.

"It's difficult to say with certainty," Dr. Sharma replied. "But in cases similar to Ms. Kane's, we've seen patients survive for years rather than months. The smoke inhalation complications are our immediate concern, but once those are managed, we could begin the new treatment protocol."

Camille felt dizzy with hope, a feeling so unexpected she hardly recognized it. "Years? She could have years?"

"With appropriate treatment and careful management, yes. It's possible."

The doctors continued explaining the treatment plan, but Camille barely heard them. Years. Not months. Not weeks. Years. Time for conversations. For memories. For goodbyes that weren't rushed by the ticking clock of terminal illness.

When the doctors left, promising to return with more details after Victoria woke, Camille turned to Alexander, tears filling her eyes.

"Did you hear that?" she whispered. "She might not... she could have..." Alexander pulled her into a tight embrace. "I heard. It's good news, Camille. The best we could hope for."

Camille buried her face against his shoulder, letting the tears flow freely now, not tears of despair but of cautious hope. She had been preparing herself for imminent loss. To suddenly have the possibility of more time felt like a gift beyond

measure.

A soft sound from the bed made them both turn. Victoria's eyes were open, watching them with a clarity that had been absent for days.

"Victoria?" Camille moved quickly to her side. "Can you hear me?"

Victoria nodded slightly, her gaze steady despite the obvious effort it took to remain alert. "I heard... the doctors," she whispered, her voice raspy from the breathing tube that had been removed just yesterday.

"You're going to get better treatment," Camille said, taking Victoria's hand

between both of hers. "There's a chance, a real chance..."

"I heard," Victoria interrupted gently. The ghost of a smile touched her lips. "Years, not months."

"Yes," Camille confirmed, a sob of relief escaping her. "Years."

Victoria's fingers tightened around Camille's, a weak grip, but stronger than yesterday. "Good," she said simply. "There's still... work to do."

Typical Victoria, Camille thought. Already thinking about Kane Industries, about business, about the empire she had built.

But Victoria continued, her eyes holding Camille's with surprising intensity. "Work like... watching you rebuild. Seeing you... find happiness."

Alexander stepped closer, placing a hand on Camille's shoulder. "She will," he promised Victoria. "I'll make sure of it."

Victoria nodded slightly, acknowledging his vow. "The bombing," she said, her voice growing clearer with each word. "Rose?"

"She hasn't been caught yet," Alexander answered before Camille could. "But the FBI are viewing the footage from the hotel and are looking for Rose, It's just a matter of time."

Victoria's eyes returned to Camille. "What will you do... when they find her?"

Camille hadn't allowed herself to think that far ahead. Her focus had been entirely on Victoria, on the moment-by-moment battle for recovery. But now, with the possibility of years rather than days stretched before them, the question of Rose loomed larger.

"I don't know," she admitted. "Part of me wants justice. Part of me wants..." "Revenge," Victoria finished for her. No judgment in the word, just understanding. "Yes," Camille acknowledged. "But I also want to move forward. To rebuild what she destroyed. To show her that she failed to break me." She squeezed Victoria's hand gently. "Failed to take you from me."

Victoria's expression softened. "Choose life," she said, the words carrying weight beyond their simplicity. "Choose creation over destruction. Promise me."

The request echoed what Victoria had been teaching Camille since rescuing her from that parking garage, that true power comes not from tearing down but from building up. Not from revenge but from rising above it.

"I promise," Camille whispered, meaning it more now than she could have before the doctors' news. With the gift of time came the possibility of healing. Of moving beyond the anger that had driven her for so long.

Victoria's eyes closed briefly, fatigue evident in every line of her face. When she opened them again, there was a vulnerability there Camille had rarely seen.

"Stay with me," Victoria murmured. "Until I fall asleep."

"I'm not going anywhere," Camille assured her, moving closer. "I'll be right here,

Mommy."

The word slipped out naturally,

unplanned yet perfectly right.

Camille had called Victoria that once

before, had barely acknowledged to herself the maternal role Victoria

had taken in her life. But in this moment of shared vulnerability and hope, the truth of their relationship crystallized into that single word.

Victoria's eyes widened slightly, a flash of emotion crossing her face before her usual composure returned. But her fingers tightened around Camille's, and there was no mistaking the tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes.

"My girl," she whispered, the words filled with a tenderness few people had ever heard from Victoria Kane. "My beautiful, strong girl."

Alexander moved quietly to the door, giving them privacy for this intimate moment. As he stepped into the hallway, he caught a glimpse of Camille leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Victoria's forehead, daughter to mother, a bond sealed in crisis and now given the precious gift of time to grow.

Outside the hospital window, the sun broke through clouds that had hung over the city since the bombing. A Ac shaft of golden light fell across the bed, illuminating Victoria's silver hair and Camille's bent head, two women who had faced destruction and emerged with the possibility of years ahead rather than days.

It wasn't a guarantee. The doctors had been clear about the challenges Victoria

still faced. But it was hope, fragile but real. And in that moment, as Victoria drifted

back to sleep with Camille still holding her hand, hope seemed enough to build a future on.

A future where creation trumped destruction. Where "Mommy" wasn't a word said only in final goodbyes but in everyday moments for years to come. Where Rose's bombs had failed to destroy what mattered most, the bond between two women who had chosen each other as family.

 

Chapter 157

Chapter 157

Alexander Pierce stood in the hospital corridor outside Victoria's room, cell phone pressed to his ear as he absorbed the news.

"You're certain it's her?" he asked the FBI agent on the other end of the line.

"One hundred percent," came the reply. "Clear facial match in multiple video segments. We're preparing to release the footage to the media within the hour."

"I want to see it first," Alexander insisted. "Send it to my secure email immediately."

After ending the call, Alexander leaned against the wall, the weight of the news settling on his shoulders. They had suspected Rose from the beginning, of course. Known in their hearts who was responsible. But confirmation brought its own burden, the question of how to tell Camille.

She had barely left Victoria's bedside in the five days since the bombing. The unexpected hopeful news about Victoria's treatment options had lifted some of the darkness from Camille's spirits, but she remained fragile, caught between relief that Victoria might have years rather than months and fury at Rose for accelerating her illness with the bombing.

Now Alexander held proof of Rose's guilt in his hands. Not conjecture or suspicion, but undeniable visual evidence.

He checked his phone as the email arrived, opening the video files and watching them in grim silence. There was Rose, her movements calm and deliberate as she placed the bombs that would kill six people. No hesitation. No sign of conflict. Just cold, calculated destruction.

Alexander closed the files, his decision made. Camille needed to know before she saw it on the news. She deserved that much.

He knocked softly on Victoria's door before entering. Camille sat beside the bed as always, but Victoria was awake today, her color somewhat improved from yesterday. They both looked up as he entered.

"What is it?" Camille asked immediately, reading his expression. "Something's wrong."

Alexander moved to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. "The FBI has identified the bomber from security footage," he said quietly. "It's Rose. They have clear images of her placing the devices throughout the hotel."

Camille's face remained perfectly still, but Alexander felt the slight tremble that ran through her body at his words.

"Show me," she said.

"Camille..." Victoria began, concern in her voice.

"I need to see it," Camille insisted. "Show me the footage."

Alexander hesitated, then handed her his phone with the video cued up. Camille took it, her hand steady despite the storm he knew must be raging inside her. Victoria motioned for Alexander to help her sit up higher so she could see the screen as well.

Together they watched as Rose moved through the hotel, planting the bombs that would devastate their lives. Camille's expression hardened with each passing second, while Victoria's remained carefully neutral, the perfect mask she had perfected over decades in business.

When the video ended, Camille handed the phone back to Alexander, her movements controlled. Too controlled.

"They're issuing a nationwide manhunt," Alexander continued. "Her face will be on every news channel within the hour. The FBI wanted us to know first."

Victoria reached for Camille's hand. "Now everyone will know the truth."

But Camille didn't seem to hear her. "Six people dead," she said, her voice distant. "Six people who came to support my foundation. Who believed in what we were trying to build."

"This isn't your fault," Alexander said firmly.

"I know whose fault it is," Camille replied, an edge of steel entering her voice. "I've always known."

Victoria tightened her grip on Camille's hand. "Remember your promise to me."

The simple words seemed to penetrate Camille's hardening shell. She looked at Victoria, conflict evident in her eyes, the promise to choose creation over destruction battling with the raw anger the footage had rekindled.

"I remember," she said finally. "But that doesn't mean I can't want justice."

"Justice, yes," Victoria agreed. "Revenge, no."

Alexander's phone rang again, the FBI with updated information. He stepped out into the hallway to take the call, leaving Camille and Victoria to their private struggle.

When he returned minutes later, his expression had changed.

"What now?" Camille asked.

"They've released her photo to the media," Alexander reported. "And they've found something else, a rental car registered to one of Rose's aliases. It was abandoned near the bus station the night of the bombing."

"She's running," Victoria said.

"Yes. But she left something behind." Alexander hesitated. "A notebook. It contained detailed plans of Kane Industries headquarters. Floor plans. Security protocols. Staff schedules."

Camille went perfectly still. "She was planning to target the company next."

"It appears that way," Alexander confirmed. "The FBI believes the hotel bombing was just the first phase of a larger plan."

Victoria's monitoring machines beeped as her heart rate increased slightly. "Is there any indication of where she might have gone?"

Alexander shook his head. "Not yet. But the FBI is following every lead. They've assigned their top agents to the case."

Camille stood abruptly. "I need some air."

"Camille..." Victoria began.

"I'm not going far," Camille assured her. "Just to the garden downstairs. I need to... process this."

Alexander moved to follow her, but Victoria caught his sleeve.

"Let her go," she said quietly. "She needs space to find her own way through this."

After Camille left, Victoria's composed expression finally cracked, revealing the worry beneath.

"She's struggling with her promise to me," Victoria said. "The promise to choose life over revenge."

"It's a lot to ask," Alexander replied, taking the seat Camille had vacated. "Especially now, with proof of what Rose did. With the knowledge that Rose was planning even more attacks."

"It's precisely because of that proof that the promise matters," Victoria countered. "Rose wants Camille consumed by hatred. Wants her focused on destruction rather than creation. If Camille gives in to that, Rose wins, even if she's caught and punished."

Alexander couldn't argue with Victoria's logic, but he understood Camille's conflict all too well. "What can I do to help her?"

Victoria's eyes, still sharp despite her illness, fixed on his. "Remind her who she is now. Not who she was when Rose first hurt her. The woman she's become is stronger than her anger. She just needs to remember that."

** ** **

In the hospital garden, Camille sat on a stone bench, face turned up to the afternoon sun. The images from the security footage played on loop in her mind, Rose moving through the hotel, planting death with the same casual confidence she'd once used to steal Camille's husband, her family, her sense of self.

Always Rose, destroying what Camille built. Always Rose, turning triumph to ash.

Camille's phone buzzed in her pocket. A news alert. She opened it to see Rose's face filling the screen, a still from the security footage, alongside the headline: "FBI LAUNCHES NATIONWIDE MANHUNT FOR GRAND PLAZA HOTEL

BOMBER."

Beneath it, details of the attack. The death toll. The injured. A brief biography of Rose Lewis, adopted sister of Camille Kane, with mentions of her "apparent vendetta" against the Kane family.

Now everyone would know. The story Camille had kept private for so long, her sister's betrayal, her husband's infidelity, her own transformation from victim to survivor, was now playing out in public headlines.

She closed the news app and opened her photo gallery instead, scrolling to an image she had taken just weeks ago: the Phoenix Foundation's logo, freshly painted on the wall of their new office. A symbol of rebirth. Of rising from destruction.

Victoria's words echoed in her mind: "Promise me you'll live for creation, not destruction."

el.r

Camille had made that promise in a moment of emotional vulnerability, desperate to give Victoria peace. Now, faced with undeniable evidence of Rose's crimes, tha promise felt harder to keep. The anger burning inside her demanded action, satisfaction, justiée.

But perhaps that was exactly why the promise mattered.

She looked up as a shadow fell across her. Alexander stood there, concern evident in his eyes.

"They've found another piece of evidence," he said without preamble. "A list in Rose's handwriting. Names and addresses. Your parents. My apartment. Victoria's home. Your office. All places she planned to target next." Camille absorbed this information, feeling oddly calm despite its implications. "She wanted to destroy everything connected to me."

"Yes." Alexander sat beside her on the bench. "The FBI believes the hotel bombing was just the beginning."

Camille nodded, still strangely detached. "That makes sense. Rose never does anything halfway."

"Camille," Alexander said gently, "what are you thinking right now?"

She considered the question, searching for honesty beneath the numbness that

had settled over her. "I'm thinking that I'm tired. Tired of Rose dictating the course

of my life. Tired of reacting to her hatred instead of creating something of my

own."

Alexander studied her face. "What does that mean for what comes next?"

"It means I'm going to keep my promise to Victoria," Camille said, the words feeling right as she spoke them. "I'm going to rebuild the foundation. Create something even stronger than before. And I'm going to let the FBI handle Rose."

"Just like that?" Alexander asked, surprised by her certainty.

"No, not just like that," Camille admitted. "I'm still angry. I still want her caught and punished for whate she did. But I won't let that desire consume me. Won't let it become

what drives me." She looked up at the hospital building, knowing Victoria was inside, fighting her own battle. "I've seen where that path leads. I won't follow Rose down it."

Alexander took her hand, his eyes reflecting both pride and concern. "The FBI will

find her, Camille. With the evidence they have now, it's only a matter of time."

"I know," Camille said. "And when they do, I'll face her in court. I'll tell my story.

And then I'll go back to building something Rose can never destroy, a life defined by creation, not destruction."

As they sat together in the hospital garden, Camille's phone buzzed again with another news alert. This one showed a different image, a blurry security camera photo of a woman at a bus station who resembled Rose, but with dyed hair and

different clothes.

The manhunt had begun in earnest. Across America, Rose's face would soon be known to everyone. Her crimes exposed. Her hiding places won.

 

Chapter 158

Chapter 158

Rose sat in the dingy motel room, the glow of the television casting harsh shadows across her face. Her newly dyed black hair hung in wet strands around her shoulders, dripping onto the worn carpet. The cheap hair dye had stained her fingernails dark, making them look dirty no matter how she scrubbed.

"Breaking news in the Grand Plaza Hotel bombing," the anchor announced. "The FBI has released security footage clearly identifying the main suspect."

Rose leaned forward, breath caught in her throat.

Her own face filled the screen, not her current disguise, but her real face, captured in perfect clarity as she placed an explosive device near the hotel's kitchen. The footage showed her checking her watch, attaching the bomb, and then looking up briefly, giving the camera a clean shot of her features.

"The FBI has identified the suspect as Rose Lewis, 28, the adopted sister of Camille Kane, whose Phoenix Foundation was hosting the charity gala targeted in the attack."

Rose grabbed the remote and turned up the volume.

"A nationwide manhunt is now underway for Lewis, who is considered armed and extremely dangerous. The bombing killed six people and injured more than forty others. Sources close to the investigation say Lewis had a long-standing grudge against her sister."

Photos flashed across the screen, Rose at social events, Rose with Stefan, and finally, a photo of Rose and Camille together years ago, before everything fell apart. The sight of that last image made Rose's stomach turn. She had been smiling at the camera, arm around Camille, looking for all the world like a loving sister while secretly plotting her destruction.

"The FBI has released these images to airports, bus terminals, and border crossings nationwide," the anchor continued. "Citizens are warned not to approach Lewis if spotted, but to contact authorities immediately."

Rose muted the television as they switched to an interview with a terrorism expert. She stood and moved to the grimy window, peering through a gap in the curtains at the nearly empty parking lot. No police cars yet. No flashing lights. But it was only a matter of time.

She'd been careless. Too focused on ensuring the bombs were placed perfectly to notice the security cameras. Too confident in her disguise. Too eager to watch Camille's triumph turn to ash.

And now her face was on every screen in America.

Rose turned back to the television, which now showed footage of Camille leaving the hospital, Alexander Pierce at her side, both surrounded by security personnel. The caption below read: "Bombing victim Camille Kane visits her adopted mother, Victoria Kane, who remains hospitalized after the attack."

So Victoria had survived. And Camille was still standing, still moving forward despite everything Rose had taken from her.

Something hot and ugly twisted in Rose's chest. No matter what she did, no matter how perfectly she planned, Camille always emerged from the ashes. Always found a way to rebuild.

"Why won't you just break?" Rose whispered at the screen, at Camille's composed face and straight shoulders. "Why won't you stay down?"

The answer came as she watched Alexander guide Camille into a waiting car, his hand protective at the small of her back, his body angled to shield her from the cameras. And then the broadcast cut to footage of Victoria Kane, being wheeled into the hospital days earlier, Camille clutching her hand as if afraid to let go.

Of course. While Rose had destroyed the Phoenix Foundation, the hotel, the physical things Camille had built, she hadn't destroyed what truly mattered to her sister. She hadn't taken away the people Camille loved.

Victoria and Alexander. The new family Camille had built to replace the one Rose had stolen. The source of her strength, her resilience, her ability to rise again and again.

Rose grabbed her notebook from the bedside table and began to write, ideas flowing faster than her pen could capture them. Not buildings this time. Not foundations or projects or material things. Those could be rebuilt. Those losses could be overcome.

No, this time she would strike at the heart. At the two people who gave Camille the strength to withstand everything Rose had done so far.

"The mother and the lover," Rose murmured, circling the words she had written. "Take them away, and what's left of the mighty Camille Kane?"

She knew the answer: nothing. Just a shell, empty and broken, like Rose herself had been after being forced from the Lewis family, after watching Camille take everything that should have been hers.

The television changed to footage of the hospital where Victoria was being treated. Security guards stood at every entrance. Reporters clustered nearby, hoping for updates on the powerful woman's condition.

Rose studied the building's layout, noting the ambulance entrance, the service doors, the helicopter pad on the roof. So many ways in, if you were clever enough. So many vulnerabilities, if you looked with the right eyes.

But first, she needed to change her appearance again. The black hair wasn't enough. She opened her bag and pulled out the items she'd purchased at a discount store that morning, scissors, colored contact lenses, makeup designed to alter facial structure, and clothes nothing like her usual style.

As she began cutting her hair shorter, Rose's mind raced with possibilities. Victoria Kane was already weakened by cancer, made more vulnerable by the bombing. One well-placed push might be enough to finish what the smoke inhalation had started.

And Alexander Pierce, so devoted to Camille, so determined to protect her. His very devotion made him predictable. Made him a target.

Take them both away, and Camille would shatter completely. No foundation to rebuild. No strength to rise again. Just emptiness and grief and the knowledge that she had failed to protect the people she loved most.

"Perfect," Rose whispered, examining her newly cropped hair in the bathroom mirror. With the right makeup, the colored contacts, and the change in hairstyle, she would be unrecognizable to anyone not looking very carefully.

She returned to the main room, unmuting the television just as they switched to a press conference. FBI Agent Diana Chen stood at a podium, flanked by other serious-faced agents.

"We have reason to believe the suspect remains in the greater New York area," Agent Chen was saying. "We're asking the public to remain vigilant and report any sightings immediately. Ms. Lewis is considered extremely dangerous and should not be approached."

Rose smiled at the screen. They thought they knew where she was. Thought they were closing in. Little did they understand that Rose Lewis had spent her entire life hiding in plain sight, pretending to be someone she wasn't. This manhunt was just another role to play, another mask to wear.

Her phone vibrated

with a news

alert. She opened it to find a new

story: "Bombing Suspect's History of Deception." The article detailed. Rose' past, including interviews with former associates who described her manipulative behavior. Stefan Rodriguez was quoted saying he "deeply regretted" his relationship with Rose and called her "dangerously obsessed" with destroying her sister.

Rose threw the phone across the room, satisfaction flaring when it hit the wall with

a crack. Stefan too had betrayed her. Added his voice to the chorus condemning

her. Another name for her list. Another target for later, after she finished with Victoria and Alexander.

Night fell as Rose continued planning, her notebook filling with details, contingencies, escape routes. The television droned on in the background, her face appearing regularly between other news stories. Once, they showed a photo. of her as a teenager, newly adopted into the Lewis family, standing awkwardly beside a smiling Camille.

Rose paused her writing, staring at that old image. She remembered that day. Remembered the confusion of being placed with a wealthy family after years in foster care. Remembered Camille's eager attempts at friendship, her willingness to share everything, her room, her parents, her life.

What Camille had never understood was that Rose didn't want to share. She wanted to take. To possess completely. To be the only daughter, the only focus of attention, the only one who mattered.

And now, all these years later, nothing had changed. Rose still wanted everything Camille had. Still burned with the need to take it all away.

"One final act," Rose whispered, turning away from her younger self on the screen. "One last push, and you'll have nothing left, sister dear."

She returned to her planning, methodically listing what she would need for each phase. Disguises. Transportation. Weapons. Timing would be crucial. Security around both Victoria and Alexander would be tight following the bombing. She would need to be patient. Careful. Perfect in her execution.

The news switched to footage of the ruined Grand Plaza Hotel, still smoldering in places despite days of firefighting efforts. They showed photographs of the six people killed in the bombing, an elderly couple who had donated millions to children's charities, a hotel security guard who had helped evacuate guests, a waiter working his first shift, and two young women who had attended the gala as part of their business school program.

Rose watched their faces appear on screen without emotion. They were nothing

to her. Meaningless pieces swept from the board during her game with Camille. Only two pieces mattered now: Victoria Kane and Alexander Pierce. Remove them, and Camille would be left defenseless. Broken beyond repair. Rose closed her notebook and moved to the window again, scanning the parking lot for any sign of police. Still clear. But she couldn't stay here much longer. Too risky, with her face on every screen, with the FBI closing in.

She packed her few belongings quickly, wiping down surfaces to remove fingerprints. The manhunt had complicated things, but it hadn't changed her goal. If anything, it made her more determined to finish what she had started.

Let them hunt her. Let them plaster her face on every television, every newspaper, every phone screen in America. By the time they found her, it would be too late. Camille would already have lost everything.

Rose checked her disguise one last time in the mirror, short black hair, brown contact lenses, face subtly altered with contouring makeup. She barely recognized herself. Perfect.

As she slipped out the motel door into the darkness, Rose felt a calmness settle over her. The manhunt would force her to move faster than planned, but perhaps

that was better. No time for doubt. No space for second thoughts.

Just one final act of destruction aimed at the heart of Camille's world.

And this time, Rose would make sure her sister never rose from the ashes again.

 

Chapter 159

Chapter 159

The phone buzzed on the hospital nightstand. Just once. A single text message.

Camille glanced at it, expecting another update from Alexander, who had stepped out to take a call from the security team. Victoria was asleep, her breathing finally even after a difficult morning of treatments. The room was quiet except for the steady beep of monitors and the soft hiss of the oxygen machine.

Camille reached for the phone, grateful for the distraction from her worried thoughts. The screen lit up.

Unknown number.

She opened the message and froze.

*You took everything from me twice. Now I'll take everyone from you.*

The words burned into her eyes. No signature. None needed. Camille knew exactly who had sent it.

Rose.

Her hand shook as she stared at the message. The phone suddenly felt hot, dangerous, as if it might explode in her palm. She wanted to throw it across the room, to smash it against the wall, to destroy the link between her and the sister who would not stop hunting her.

Instead, she took a deep breath and pressed the screenshot button. Evidence. The FBI would need it.

Victoria stirred in the hospital bed, her eyes opening slowly. "Camille? What's wrong?"

Camille tried to smooth her expression, to hide the fear that must be written across her face. But Victoria had always seen through her masks.

"Show me," Victoria said, her voice stronger than her frail body suggested.

Camille hesitated, then turned the phone screen toward Victoria. No point hiding it. Not from the woman who had taught her to face threats head-on.

Victoria read the message, her face hardening. "She's desperate," she said finally. "Cornered. The FBI is closing in, and she knows it."

"That makes her more dangerous, not less," Camille replied, her voice tight with fear she couldn't quite hide. "She's threatening everyone I love."

"Which is why we have security," Victoria reminded her. "And why the FBI is hunting her day and night."

Camille stood, suddenly unable to sit still. She paced the small hospital room, the phone clutched in her hand like a grenade with the pin half-pulled. "She found a way to contact me despite everything. Who knows what else she can do?"

The door opened, and Alexander stepped in. One look at Camille's face told him something was wrong.

"What happened?" he asked, closing the door firmly behind him.

Wordlessly, Camille handed him the phone. His expression darkened as he read the message.

"When did this come in?"

"Just now," Camille said. "Can you trace it?"

"I'll have my team try, but if Rose is being careful, she'll have used a burner phone." Alexander was already typing on his own phone, alerting his security personnel. "We need to move you both to a more secure location."

"I'm not leaving the hospital," Victoria said firmly from her bed. "My treatment protocol requires specific equipment that can't be moved."

"Then we lock down this floor," Alexander decided. "No one in or out without triple verification."

Camille nodded, but inside, a cold dread was spreading through her chest, creeping into her limbs, making her feel heavy and slow. Rose had found a way to reach her despite all their precautions. What else could she do?

"My parents," Camille said suddenly. "She'll target them too."

"Already handled," Alexander assured her. "I doubled their security team this morning, before this message came in. Standard precaution with the manhunt ongoing."

Camille should have felt relieved, but the fear only grew, taking root in her heart like a poisonous weed. "What about you?" she asked Alexander, her voice barely audible. "She'll come for you too."

Alexander's expression softened. He crossed the room and took her hands in his. "I can take care of myself, Camille. I've been doing it for a long time."

"Not against Rose," Camille insisted. "You don't understand how she thinks. What she's capable of."

"I think I have a pretty good idea after the bombing," Alexander said gently. "But I'm not going anywhere. We face this together."

Victoria watched them, her eyes sharp despite her weakened state. "Call Agent Chen," she instructed. "She needs to know about this message immediately."

Alexander nodded and stepped away to make the call. Camille resumed her pacing, unable to stand still with the energy of fear coursing through her veins.

"Sit down, Camille," Victoria said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You're making me dizzy."

Camille stopped moving but remained standing, her body tense as a drawn bowstring. "She won't stop, will she?"

"Not until she's caught," Victoria agreed. "Or until she believes she's won."

The simple truth of those words hit Camille like a physical blow. Rose wouldn't stop. Not ever. Not while she breathed. Not while she believed Camille had taken what was rightfully hers.

"This is never going to end," Camille whispered, the realization settling over her like a shroud.

"Everything ends," Victoria countered. "Even Rose's obsession. Even her freedom to hurt you."

But Camille barely heard her. She was staring at the phone still in Alexander's hand, at the message glowing on the screen. *You took everything from me twice. Now I'll take everyone from you.*

What had she taken from Rose? A family that Rose had manipulated? A husband Rose had seduced? A life Rose had tried repeatedly to destroy? In Rose's twisted mind, these were thefts, not consequences of her own actions.

And now Rose would take "everyone" from her. Not something. Everyone. The people she loved. The people who gave her strength.

Victoria. Alexander. Her parents. Anyone who mattered to her.

The room suddenly felt too small, the air too thin. Camille struggled to breathe, her chest tight with panic.

"Camille." Victoria's voice cut through the fog of fear. "Look at me."

Camille turned, meeting Victoria's steady gaze.

"She wants you afraid," Victoria said firmly. "She wants you paralyzed. Reactive. Don't give her that power."

"I can't lose you," Camille whispered, the words torn from someplace deep and vulnerable. "I can't lose any of you."

"You won't," Victoria promised. "We're prepared now. We're ready for her."

Alexander finished his call and rejoined them. "Agent Chen is sending a team to trace the message. They'll be here within the hour."

"And until then?" Camille asked.

"Until then, we tighten security even further." Alexander's voice was calm, matter-of-fact, a counterpoint to the storm of emotion raging inside. Camille. "No one enters this floor without biometric verification and direct approval from me. All staff are being vetted again. Guards at every entrance, exit, and elevator."

"What about my parents?" Camille pressed.

"Agent Chen is sending FBI agents to supplement their security team. They're

being moved to a safe house as we speak."

Camille nodded, trying to take comfort in these concrete measures. But the knot of fear in her stomach remained, hard and cold.

A knock on the door made them all tense. Alexander moved to answer it, his hand inside his jacket where Camille knew he carried a weapon. He checked the security monitor beside the door before opening it.

Jason, Alexander's head of security, stepped in. "Sir, we've completed the first sweep of the floor. All clear. Additional teams are arriving now to establish the expanded perimeter."

"Good," Alexander said. "Any updates on the trace?"

"Nothing yet. The tech team says the message was routed through multiple servers. They're still working on it."

Camille listened to this exchange, the professional calm of the two men both reassuring and somehow terrifying. They were preparing for war. A war Rose had brought to their doorstep.

After Jason left, Camille moved to the window, looking out at the city below. Somewhere out there, Rose was watching. Waiting. Planning her next move. The thought made Camille's skin crawl.

"She'll make a mistake," Alexander said, coming to stand beside her. "They always do."

"You don't know Rose," Camille replied, her voice hollow. "She's patient. Careful. She's been planning this for years."

"No plan survives contact with reality," Alexander countered. "And the reality is that the entire country is looking for her. Every law enforcement agency. Every airport. Every border crossing."

"That won't stop her," Camille insisted. "Not when she's this close to what she wants."

"And what does she want?" Alexander asked.

Camille turned to him, her eyes haunted. "To see me suffer. To take away everyone I love and watch me break."

"Then we don't let her," Alexander said simply. "We protect each other. We stay together. We deny her the victory she wants."

Victoria's voice joined the conversation from her bed. "Alexander is right. Rose's weakness has always been her obsession with you. It blinds her. Makes her take risks she shouldn't."

Camille wanted to believe them. Wanted to trust in security teams and FBI agents and locked doors. But she had underestimated Rose before. They all had.

Her phone buzzed again. Another message.

Her heart seemed to stop as she opened it, expecting more threats from Rose. Instead, it was from her father.

*We're at the safe house. Your mother is upset but safe. We love you, Camille.

Stay strong.*

A small relief in the midst of fear. Her parents were secure, at least for now.

She showed the message to Alexander, who nodded in approval. "One less thing to worry about."

But a hundred worries remained. A thousand ways Rose could strike at the people Camille loved.

The day crawled by with agonizing

slowness. FBI agents arrived to take Camille's statement about the threatening message. Security personnel established checkpoints at every entrance to the hospital

floor. Doctors and nurses were escorted by guards whenever they entered Victoria's room.

Through it all, Camille felt a growing sense of unreality, as if she were watching events unfold from behind glass. This was her life now, armed guards, security checkpoints, fear at every turn. All because her sister would not stop hunting her.

Night fell. Victoria, exhausted from the day's tension and her ongoing treatments, fell into a restless sleep. Alexander insisted on staying, setting up a makeshift bed on the small couch in the corner of the room.

Camille sat in the chair beside Victoria's bed, unable to sleep despite her own exhaustion. The threatening message played on repeat in her mind. *You took everything from me twice. Now I'll take everyone from you.*

"You should rest," Alexander said softly from the couch. "I'll keep watch."

Camille shook her head. "I can't sleep. Not with her message in my head."

Alexander rose and moved to her side, crouching beside her chair. "Rose wants you exhausted. Afraid. Unable to think clearly. Don't give her that advantage." Camille looked at him, at the steady concern in his eyes, and felt a wave of love so powerful it nearly overwhelmed her. This man, who had chosen to stand beside her despite the danger, who refused to leave her even when a murderer was targeting everyone she cared about.

He was right. Rose wanted her weak. Wanted her broken before the final blow was even struck.

"One hour," Camille agreed finally. "I'll try to sleep for one hour." Alexander nodded, satisfied with this small victory. He returned to the couch,

maintaining his vigil while Camille reclined in the chair, allowing her eyes to close.

Just before sleep claimed her, a final thought drifted through her mind: Rose had threatened to take

everyone from her. But she

succeeded yet. Victoria still fought

for health and life in the bed beside her. Alexander still guarded her sleep. Her parents waited safely in

an FBI safe house.

Rose had made her threat. Camille and those she loved had responded by

drawing closer together, by reinforcing their protections, by refusing to be

separated. Perhaps that was the answer. Perhaps the way to defeat Rose was not to run or hide, but to hold tighter to the connections she sought to sever.

With this thought floating through her tired mind, Camille finally drifted into an uneasy sleep.

 

Chapter 160

Chapter 160

Dr. Sharma knocked twice before entering Victoria's hospital room, her face unreadable as she carried a folder of test results. Camille sat up straighter in her chair, her heart speeding up. Two weeks had passed since Rose's threatening message. Two weeks of heightened security, constant fear, and waiting for Victoria's latest test results.

"Good morning," Dr. Sharma said, her voice giving away nothing. "How are you feeling today, Ms. Kane?"

Victoria, sitting up in bed for the first time in days, nodded slightly. "Better than yesterday. Less pain."

Camille studied her mother's face, hardly daring to believe the small

improvements she'd noticed over the past few days. The color returning to Victoria's cheeks. The clarity in her eyes. The way she'd begun asking about Kane Industries again, as if planning for a future she might actually see.

Dr. Sharma pulled up the bedside chair and sat down, opening the folder on her lap. "I have your latest scan results."

Camille reached for Victoria's hand, bracing for bad news. They'd been through this routine before, brief improvements followed by crushing setbacks. Hope was a luxury she could barely afford.

"The treatment is working," Dr. Sharma said, her professional mask finally breaking into a genuine smile. "The tumors have shrunk by nearly thirty percent." The words hung in the air. Camille stared at the doctor, afraid she'd misheard. "Thirty percent?" Victoria repeated, her voice steadier than it had been in weeks. "Yes. Your body is responding remarkably well to the combined therapy approach." Dr. Sharma turned the folder, showing them the scan images. "Here's the primary tumor from three weeks ago. And here it is now."

Even to Camille's untrained eye, the difference was clear. The dark mass that had been stealing Victoria's life was noticeably smaller.

"What does this mean?" Camille asked, afraid to voice the real question burning in her heart: *Is she going to live?*

"It means the treatment is working better than we expected," Dr. Sharma explained. "Your mother's body is fighting back with surprising strength."

Victoria's hand tightened around Camille's. "Give us the full picture, Doctor. No sugar-coating."

Dr. Sharma nodded, respecting Victoria's directness. "The cancer is still serious. But this response changes your prognosis significantly. With continued treatment and your current response rate, we could be looking at years of good quality life rather than months."

Years. The word echoed in Camille's mind like a bell, clear and bright and almost too beautiful to believe.

"And the smoke damage to her lungs?" Camille pressed, needing to understand the complete situation.

"Also improving faster than expected. Your mother has remarkable resilience, Ms. Kane." Dr. Sharma closed the folder. "I believe we can start discussing discharge plans within the next week, with continued outpatient treatment, of course."

After the doctor left, promising to return with more details that afternoon, silence filled the room. Camille stared at Victoria, tears building behind her eyes but not falling.

"Don't look so shocked," Victoria said finally, a hint of her old dryness returning. "I told you I wasn't finished yet."

The simple statement broke the dam. Camille's tears flowed freely now, her body shaking with sobs that were half laughter, half pure relief.

"Camille," Victoria said, her voice softening. "Come here."

Camille moved from the chair to the edge of the bed. Victoria reached up, wiping tears from her daughter's cheeks with a gentleness few people had ever seen from the formidable businesswoman.

"I'm not going anywhere," Victoria promised. "Not for a long time."

"I was so afraid," Camille admitted, the words barely audible. "Every day, watching you get weaker. I thought..."

"I know what you thought." Victoria's hand moved to cover Camille's. "I thought it too, at first. But it seems we're both too stubborn to give up so easily."

Camille laughed through her tears. "Stubborn enough to beat cancer and survive a bombing in the same month."

"Exactly." Victoria's eyes, clearer now than they had been in weeks, held Camille's. "Now, help me sit up properly. I need to make some calls."

"Calls? You just got good news. You should rest."

"I've been resting for weeks," Victoria countered. "It's time to start living again."

Something in those words reached deep inside Camille, touching a place that had been frozen with fear since Rose's threat. *Time to start living again.* Not just surviving. Not just waiting for the next attack. But living, despite the dangers still lurking.

Camille adjusted Victoria's pillows, helping her sit more upright. "Alexander will want to know about the test results. He's been worried too."

"Of course he has," Victoria said. "That young man loves you more than his own life. It makes him both valuable and extremely vulnerable."

The blunt assessment brought Camille up short. Even recovering from cancer, even celebrating good news, Victoria's mind remained sharp, tactical, always evaluating weaknesses and strengths.

"Rose is still out there," Victoria continued, reading Camille's thoughts with her usual accuracy. "My recovery doesn't change that. If anything, it makes me a more tempting target."

"The FBI is closing in," Camille reminded her. "Every day they find new leads. It's only a matter of time."

"Perhaps. But Rose has always been patient when it suited her."

Camille stood, moving to the window where armed guards were visible patrolling the hospital grounds. "I can't live like this forever. None of us can. Looking over our shoulders. Jumping at shadows."

"No," Victoria agreed. "Which is why we need to be proactive, not reactive."

Camille turned back, studying Victoria's face. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that Rose expects us to hide. To cower. To wait for her to strike." Victoria straightened, looking more like herself than she had in? weeks. "What she doesn't expect is for us to move forward with our lives. To rebuild what she destroyed. To grow stronger while she weakens."

The idea settled over Camille slowly, like a warm blanket on a cold night. Victoria was right. Rose wanted them paralyzed with fear. Wanted them isolated, separated, vulnerable. Every day they spent simply waiting for her next attack was

a small victory for Rose.

"The Phoenix Foundation," Camille said, the words coming unbidden to her lips. "We should restart it. Rebuild it."

Victoria smiled, pride evident in her eyes. "Exactly. Not just the foundation. Everything. Kane Industries initiatives. Your wedding plans with Alexander. Your life, Camille. The one Rose tried to destroy."

For the first time in weeks, something other than fear fluttered in Camille's chest. Something that felt dangerously like hope.

A knock at the door interrupted them. Alexander entered, his face lighting up when

he saw Victoria sitting up, looking stronger than she had since the bombing.

"You look better," he said, moving to Camille's side.

"I am better," Victoria confirmed. "Dr. Sharma just gave us the test results. The treatment is working better than expected."

Alexander's arm slipped around Camille's waist, offering silent support. "That's the best news I've heard in weeks."

"We were just discussing next steps," Victoria said, her business tone returning. "Specifically, how to move forward instead of simply waiting for Rose's next attack."

Alexander glanced at Camille, curiosity in his eyes. "And what did you decide?" "That we rebuild," Camille said, the words feeling right as they left her mouth. "Everything. The foundation. Our lives. All of it."

"While maintaining security precautions," Victoria added pragmatically. Alexander's expression grew thoughtful. "It's risky. Rose is still out there, still dangerous."

"Life is risky," Victoria countered. "Especially for people like us. That never stopped me before, and it won't stop me now."

Camille felt Alexander studying her face, reading her emotions as clearly as if she'd spoken them aloud. "What do you think?" he asked softly.

"I think," Camille said slowly, "that Rose wants us afraid. Wants us hiding. Wants us to put our lives on hold while she plots and plans." She straightened her shoulders, feeling strength returning with each word. "I think it's time we stopped giving her what she wants."

Alexander smiled, a slow spreading of warmth across his face. "Then we rebuild. Together."

Victoria watched them, satisfaction evident in her expression. "Good. Now, Camille, find my phone. I need to call the board members and let them know I'm

not dead yet."

met

Camille couldn't help laughing at Victoria's typical directness. She retrieved the phone from the bedside drawer, marveling at how different she felt compared to just an hour ago. The fear wasn't gone, Rose was still out there, still threatening everyone she loved. But now that fear shared space with something else. Something brighter and stronger.

Hope. Not just for Victoria's recovery, but for all of them. Hope that they could rebuild what Rose had destroyed. Hope that they could live their lives on their own terms, not dictated by Rose's hatred.

As Victoria made her calls, asserting her authority despite her hospital bed location, Camille moved to the window again. The sun was breaking through clouds that had hung over the city for days, bathing the hospital grounds in golden

light.

"You're smiling," Alexander said, joining her. "I've missed that."

"I didn't realize how much I needed good news until we got it," Camille admitted.

"It feels like... I don't know. Like breathing after being underwater too long."

Alexander nodded, understanding without needing more explanation. "Victoria recovering changes everything, doesn't it?"

"Not everything. Rose is still out there." Camille leaned slightly against him,

drawing strength from his presence. "But yes, it changes the most important thing. It gives us back our future."

Behind them, Victoria was speaking forcefully into her phone, already planning board meetings and project reviews from her hospital bed. The sound made Camille smile wider. This was the Victoria she knew, unstoppable, indomitable, refusing to be sidelined even by cancer.

"We still need to be careful," Alexander warned, ever practical. "Rose won't give up just because Victoria is recovering."

"I know," Camille agreed. "But now we're fighting for something, not just against someone. That makes us stronger, not weaker."

Alexander's arm tightened around her waist. "You sound like Victoria."

"Good," Camille said, meaning it completely. "Because Victoria is a survivor. A

fighter. And that's exactly what I need to be right now."

velnet

As they stood watching the sunlight spread across the hospital grounds, Camille felt something she hadn't experienced in weeks: certainty Not about Rose's capture or what dangers still lay ahead, but about her own ability to face them. To survive

them. To triumph over them.

Victoria's surprising resilience had given Camille more than hope for her mother's

recovery. It had reminded her of who she was. Who she had become under Victoria's guidance. Who she could still be, despite everything Rose had tried to take from her.

"We're going to be okay," she whispered, half to Alexander, half to herself. "All of

us."

And for the first time since Rose's threatening message, Camille truly believed it.