Ch. 161..165: SCORNED EX WIFE Chapter 161-165

Chapter 161

Chapter 161

Four weeks. Twenty-eight days without a sign of Rose. Not a text. Not a sighting. Not a whisper.

Camille stood at the window of her office at Kane Industries, watching the city below. Security guards still accompanied her everywhere. The FBI still checked in daily. Alexander's team still swept for bugs and bombs each morning.

But something had changed. The tight knot of fear in her stomach had loosened slightly. Not gone, she doubted it would ever truly disappear, but different now. More like an old injury that ached before rain than the sharp, consuming pain of a fresh wound.

She checked her watch. Three hours until they would drive to Victoria's lake house. The doctors had finally allowed Victoria to leave the hospital two weeks ago, but insisted she recover somewhere quiet, away from the stress of the city. The lake house, with its private security and peaceful surroundings, had been the perfect solution.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. Jason, Alexander's head of security, entered with his daily report.

"All clear, Ms. Kane," he said. "The route to the lake house has been secured. We'll have teams stationed at every checkpoint along the way."

"Thank you, Jason," Camille replied. "Any updates from the FBI?"

He shook his head. "Nothing new. They've followed leads in five states, but nothing concrete. Agent Chen believes Ms. Lewis may have left the country."

Camille nodded, unsurprised. The FBI had been saying similar things for weeks now. Rose had vanished, like smoke dissipating into air.

Part of Camille wanted to believe it-that Rose had run, given up, moved on. But the part that knew her sister best remained on guard. Rose never gave up. Never abandoned her plans. Never left a score unsettled.

"We'll maintain all security protocols," Jason continued, reading her thoughts. "Mr. Pierce has been very clear about that."

"Of course," Camille agreed. "Thank you."

After Jason left, Camille returned to her work. The Phoenix Foundation rebuilding efforts were moving ahead steadily. New offices had been secured. Staff rehired. Projects restarted. It felt good to create again, to build rather than merely survive.

The afternoon passed quickly. When Alexander arrived to pick her up, Camille was surprised to see him dressed casually-jeans and a light sweater instead of his usual suit.

"You look different," she said, smiling despite herself.

"Victoria's orders," he replied. "No business attire at the lake house. Apparently we both need to 'remember how to relax' before we 'turn into workaholics like her.""

Camille laughed, the sound still unfamiliar to her ears after weeks of tension. "Did she actually say that?"

"Word for word. Complete with dire threats if we disobey."

Camille gathered her things, including a small overnight bag. Victoria had insisted they stay the night, watch the sunrise over the lake, pretend for a few hours that their lives weren't forever altered by Rose's vendetta.

The drive north took nearly two hours. Security vehicles preceded and followed their car, a precaution that had become so routine Camille hardly noticed anymore. The city gave way to suburbs, then to rolling countryside, until finally they turned onto the private road leading to Victoria's lake house.

Nestled among pine trees, the house wasn't as grand as Camille had expected. Victoria Kane, known for her luxury penthouses and corner offices, had chosen something almost modest for her retreat. The two-story structure of wood and glass faced a small private lake, its deck extending out over the water.

Security personnel were visible but discreet—a team at the gate, another patrolling the perimeter, yet another stationed near the dock. Alexander had insisted on the highest level of protection despite the remote location.

Victoria waited for them on the deck, seated in a comfortable chair with a blanket across her lap despite the warm evening. She was thinner than before her illness, her cheekbones more prominent, but her eyes were clear and alert. More importantly, she was smiling, something Camille had seen too rarely in recent months.

"Finally," Victoria called as they approached. "I was beginning to think you'd gotten lost."

Camille climbed the steps to the deck and bent to kiss Victoria's cheek. "Traffic was heavy leaving the city."

"Excuses," Victoria dismissed with a wave of her hand. "Come, sit. Dinner will be ready soon."

Alexander joined them, taking a seat across from Victoria. "The security teams reported all clear?"

Victoria shot him a look. "We agreed, no business talk tonight. That includes security reports."

Alexander raised his hands in surrender. "Sorry. Old habits."

"Break them," Victoria instructed firmly. "For one night, we're going to pretend we're normal people enjoying a quiet evening at the lake. Is that understood?"

Camille exchanged a glance with Alexander, a smile tugging at her lips. This was the Victoria she remembered, commanding, brooking no opposition, determined to bend the world to her will. Cancer had weakened her body but not her spirit. "Understood," Camille agreed, settling into a chair beside Victoria. "No business

talk."

The evening air was cool but pleasant. The lake stretched before them, its surface glassy in the fading light. Birds called from the surrounding trees. From somewhere inside the house came the sound of dinner being prepared.

"It's beautiful here," Camille said, breathing deeply. "I can see why you love it."

Victoria nodded. "I bought this place thirty years ago, after my first major business success. Everyone expected me to purchase something ostentatious, a mansion, a penthouse. Instead, I found this."

"It suits you," Alexander observed. "Understated but impressive."

Victoria almost smiled at that. "The water helps me think. Always has."

They sat in comfortable silence as the sun dipped lower, painting the lake in shades of gold and orange. Camille felt something inside her slowly unwinding, a tension so constant she'd forgotten what it felt like to be without it.

Dinner was served on the deck as darkness fell. Simple but delicious food, grilled fish, fresh vegetables, warm read. Battery-operated lanterns created pools of golden light around their table. If security personnel remained vigilant in the shadows, they were invisible enough to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Victoria ate slowly but steadily, another sign of her improving health. She asked questions about the Foundation, about Kane Industries, about plans for the coming months. Despite her earlier rule about no business talk, she clearly wanted to stay informed.

"The doctors say I can return to the office part-time next month," she mentioned between bites. "Three days a week, four hours a day."

"That seems ambitious," Alexander said carefully.

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "I didn't ask for your opinion on my recovery schedule, Alexander."

"He's right, though," Camille added. "The doctors said to take it slow."

"Four hours a day is slow," Victoria countered. "For me."

Camille couldn't argue with that. Before her illness, Victoria regularly worked fourteen-hour days. Four hours would indeed feel like barely working to her.

After dinner, they moved to a fire pit near the lake's edge. Security had cleared the area earlier, ensuring it was safe. The flames cast dancing shadows across their faces as they sat in comfortable chairs arranged in a semicircle.

"I've been thinking," Victoria said, breaking a long but pleasant silence. "About what comes next."

"I thought we weren't talking business tonight," Camille reminded her gently.

"This isn't business. It's life." Victoria's eyes reflected the firelight. "Specifically, yours."

Camille tensed slightly. "What about it?"

"You've put your wedding plans on hold. Understandably, given recent events. But

I'm wondering when you might reconsider."

Alexander reached over to take Camille's hand, a silent show of support. This topic hadn't been discussed between them for weeks, not since the bombing, not since Rose's threat, not since Victoria's illness.

"I don't know," Camille answered honestly. "It doesn't seem like the right time."

"When is the right time?" Victoria pressed. "When Rose is caught? When my cancer is in full remission? When the world stops being dangerous?"

Put that way, Camille had no good answer. There would always be another reason to wait, another fear to overcome, another crisis to weather.

"I just want you to be safe," she said finally. "Both of you. A wedding would make us targets."

"We're already targets," Victoria pointed out. "Has been for months now. And yet, here we sit."

Camille looked from Victoria to Alexander, seeing the same question in both their eyes: How long would she let Rose dictate the terms of her life?

"Think about it," Victoria said, her voice softening. "That's all I ask." Camille nodded, grateful when the conversation shifted to lighter topics. But the question remained, hovering at the edges of her mind like a persistent shadow. After Victoria retired for the night, Camille and Alexander remained by the fire. The security team had withdrawn to a respectful distance, giving them the illusion of privacy while maintaining vigilance.

"She's right, you know," Alexander said quietly. "About not letting Rose control our lives."

Camille poked at the fire with a stick, watching sparks rise into the darkness. "I know. But it's not that simple."

"It never is." He moved his chair closer to hers. "But at some point, we have to decide what matters more, the fear of what Rose might do, or the life we want to build together."

Camille looked up at him, studying his face in the firelight. This man who had stood beside her through everything, Rose's betrayal, the bombing, Victoria's illness. Who had never wavered, never backed away from the danger her life entailed.

"I am not saying we should ignore the threat," Alexander continued. "The security will remain. The precautions. The vigilance. But within those parameters, we can still choose to live, Camille."

The simple truth of his words sank deep into her heart. For months now, she had been existing rather than living. Surviving rather than thriving. Even as she rebuilt the Foundation, even as she supported Victoria's recovery, a part of her had remained frozen, waiting for Rose's next strike.

"What would it look like?" she asked, her voice barely audible over the crackling fire. "Living, I mean. With all of this still hanging over us."

Alexander considered her question seriously. "It would look like making plans more than a week ahead. Like celebrating milestones instead of just enduring days. Like this..."he gestured to the fire, the lake, the night sky above them, "... moments of peace that we allow ourselves to fully experience, rather than waiting for them to be shattered."

Camille closed her eyes, letting his words wash over her. How long had it been since she'd truly allowed herself to feel anything beyond fear and vigilance? Since she'd looked forward rather than constantly glancing over her shoulder? When she opened her eyes, Alexander was watching her, patient as always. "We

could start small," he suggested. "Dinner out. A weekend away. Small steps back toward normal."

"Normal," Camille repeated, the word feeling foreign on her tongue. "I'm not sure I remember what that feels like."

"Neither do I." Alexander smiled slightly. "Maybe we create a new normal. One that acknowledges the danger but doesn't give it power over everything."

A log shifted in the fire, sending up a shower of sparks that momentarily illuminated the trees around them. In that brief flash, Camille caught sight of a security guard moving between the shadows, a reminder that danger still lurked at the edges of this peaceful scene.

Yet somehow, that knowledge didn't destroy the moment. The guard was there to protect, not threaten. The danger was acknowledged but contained. For this one evening, they had carved out a space where fear didn't rule.

"I'd like to try," Camille said finally. "To find that new normal." Alexander squeezed her hand, understanding all she wasn't saying. "One day at a

time."

They sat together as the fire burned lower, the lake water lapping gently at the shore before them. Stars appeared overhead, countless points of light in the vast darkness. The night air cooled, carrying the scent of pine and wood smoke.

For the first time in weeks, Camille felt something close to peace, not the absence of danger, but the presence of hope despite it. Victoria

was recovering. The Foundatoria

was rebuilding. And here, in this moment, she had allowed herself to simply be, without constant fear shadowing every thought.

It wouldn't last, of course. Tomorrow would bring a return to heightened vigilance, to security protocols, to the knowledge that Rose was stiff out there somewhere, planning her next move. But for tonight, atleast, Camille had reclaimed a small piece of herself from the fear that had

ruled her life for too long.

As the fire died to embers and the night deepened around them, Camille rested

her head on Alexander's shoulder, allowing herself this moment of normal in a life that had been anything but.

 

Chapter 162

Chapter 162

The morning sun sparkled on the lake as Camille prepared to leave. The

overnight stay had been a brief but needed escape from the constant pressure of the past months. Victoria stood on the deck, waving as Camille loaded her bag into the car.

"Come back next weekend," she called. "Bring Alexander next time. I need civilized company out here."

Camille smiled, knowing Victoria was far from lonely with her staff and security team in constant attendance. "I'll call you tonight," she promised.

Alexander had left early that morning, called back to the city for an urgent meeting with the FBI. He'd wanted to postpone his return until he could travel with Camille, but she had insisted she would be fine with her security detail.

"Four weeks without a sign of Rose," she had reminded him. "And I'll have two cars of security personnel. Go handle the FBI."

Now, as her driver James held the door open for her, Camille felt a flicker of unease. The peaceful night at the lake had lowered her guard slightly, a dangerous thing when Rose might still be out there, waiting.

Their security detail followed the same protocol as always, one car ahead, one behind, maintaining constant radio contact. Camille sat in the back, watching the trees pass by her window. The rural landscape was beautiful, so different from the city she'd grown accustomed to.

"Ms. Kane," James said, breaking into her thoughts. "Security team ahead is reporting a traffic accident blocking the road. They're checking alternate routes."

Camille nodded, feeling a slight tightening in her chest. Coincidences made her nervous these days.

They were about forty minutes from the city when James spoke again, his voice tense. "Ma'am, I've lost contact with the lead car."

Camille sat up straighter, instantly alert. "What about the car behind us?"

"Trying them now." James pressed a button on his radio, then shook his head. "No response."

Fear crawled up Camille's spine like a cold hand. "Call Alexander," she ordered, reaching for her own phone.

No signal. The bars on her screen had disappeared completely.

"Signal jammer," James muttered, slowing the car as they approached a bend in the rural highway. Trees pressed close on both sides, their branches creating a tunnel of dappled light and shadow.

"Turn around," Camille instructed. "Now."

James began to maneuver the car, but before he could complete the turn, a van swerved onto the road ahead of them, blocking their path. Another vehicle appeared behind, trapping them.

"Get down!" James shouted, drawing his weapon.

Camille ducked below the window line, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was no random attack. No ordinary carjacking. This was precise. Planned. Professional.

This was Rose.

The back window shattered as bullets hit it. James returned fire through the broken glass, his face grim with determination.

"Stay down, Ms. Kane," he ordered. "Backup will come."

But Camille knew backup wouldn't arrive in time. Rose had planned too carefully for that. Had waited four weeks, lulling them into a false sense of security before striking when Alexander was away.

The shooting suddenly stopped. In the abrupt silence, Camille could hear birds singing in the trees, oblivious to the violence below.

"They're moving," James warned, peering through the cracked windshield.

Figures in black tactical gear approached the car from both directions, weapons raised. Camille counted six of them. Too many, even for James and his training.

"On my signal, I want you to run for the trees," James said quietly. "I'll cover you."

Camille shook her head. "We stay together."

"Ms. Kane, my job is to protect you. Please..."

Before he could finish, the driver's door was wrenched open. James fired, hitting one attacker, but others grabbed him, dragging him from the car. Camille heard the sickening sound of a blow, then silence.

A small canister flew into the car, hitting the floor at her feet. White gas hissed out, filling the space with acrid fumes. Camille tried to hold her breath, covering her mouth and nose with her sleeve, but the gas was everywhere.

Her vision blurred. Her limbs grew heavy. The car door beside her opened, and fresh air rushed in, momentarily clearing her head.

Camille lashed out blindly, her fist connecting with something solid. A grunt of pain told her she'd hit her target. She scrambled toward the opposite door, desperate to escape.

"Still fighting, sister dear? Some things never change."

That voice. Camille would know it anywhere. She forced her eyes to focus through the lingering gas.

Rose stood there, looking down at her with a small smile. Her hair was different, short, dyed black, but her eyes were the same. Cold. Calculating. Triumphant.

"You," Camille managed, the word slurring despite her best efforts.

"Me," Rose agreed pleasantly. "Miss me?"

Camille tried to lunge at her, but her body wouldn't cooperate. Her movements were slow, uncoordinated. Rose easily stepped back, avoiding her grasp.

"Now, now," Rose chided. "Is that any way to greet your sister after a month apart?"

"You... killed him," Camille gasped, thinking of James lying motionless outside the

car.

"Not dead," Rose corrected. "Just sleeping. Unlike the Grand Plaza Hotel, this

isn't about body count. This is personal."

She gestured to one of the men in

black, who approached with a

syringe. Camille tried to fight as hands pulled her from the car, but

the gas had weakened her too much. She felt a sharp pinch in her neck. Almost immediately, a deeper heaviness invaded her limbs.

"Why?" Camille asked, struggling to keep her eyes open as the drug took effect.

Rose leaned close, her smile widening. "Because you took everything from me," she whispered. "Now I'm going to take everything from you."

Camille's vision blurred. She saw

vision

James, lying unconscious on the roadside. She saw the security team from the lead car, similarly incapacitated. She tried to call out, to fight, to do anything, but her body no longer responded to her commands.

The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was Rose's face, watching with satisfaction as she was loaded into the van. The last thing she felt was rumble of the engine as it putted away, carrying her into a nightmare she had feared for months.

Then nothing.

Just blackness.

And the echo of Rose's final words: "Now I'm going to take everything from you."

 

Chapter 163

Chapter 163

Alexander was in the middle of his meeting with Agent Chen when the alarm on his phone blared, a sound he had never wanted to hear. His security team's emergency signal.

His blood turned to ice. He was already moving toward the door as he pulled up the tracking app, watching the red dot that represented Camille's car blinking rapidly on a rural road.

"I need to go," he said, his voice tight. "Something's wrong."

Agent Chen looked up from her files, instantly alert. "What happened?"

"Distress signal from Camille's security team." Alexander's fingers flew across his phone screen, calling in his backup teams. "No response from any of them."

"I'll send FBI units," Chen said, already reaching for her radio.

But Alexander barely heard her. He was already running for the elevator, his heart pounding against his ribs. He had left Camille at the lake house with a security detail he had personally trained. They wouldn't trigger the emergency protocol unless the situation was dire.

The drive was a blur of speed and rising panic. Alexander pushed his car to its limits, weaving through traffic with a single-minded focus. The GPS showed him closing in on the signal, but the red dot had stopped moving. Stopped blinking. Gone dark.

When he reached the coordinates, the scene hit him like a physical blow.

Two black SUVs, Camille's security vehicles sat empty on the rural road. Bodies lay sprawled on the asphalt. Alexander slammed to a stop, his gun already drawn as he exited the car.

"James!" he shouted, recognizing Camille's driver slumped by the roadside.

The man stirred weakly. Still alive. Alexander checked the others, all security personnel, all unconscious but breathing. But no Camille.

James's eyes fluttered open as Alexander knelt beside him. "They took her," he whispered, his voice rough. "Gas... couldn't stop them..."

"Who?" Alexander demanded, though he already knew the answer. "Was it Rose?"

James nodded weakly. "Black van... six men... Rose was there... personally."

Cold fury washed over Alexander, so intense it momentarily blinded him. Rose had waited for the perfect moment, when he was away, when they had begun to lower their guard after four weeks of silence.

Sirens wailed in the distance as he searched the vehicles for any clue to where they might have taken Camille. The back window of her car was shattered. Inside, he found her phone on the floor, its screen cracked.

And something else. A small envelope with his name on it, placed carefully on the driver's seat.

Alexander opened it with steady hands belying the storm inside him. A single sheet of paper contained a typed message:

*She took everything from me. My family. My future. Now I take everything from her. Starting with her freedom. Then her hope. Then her life. If you want to say goodbye before she dies, you have 48 hours to find us. The clock is ticking, Alexander. Tick. Tock.*

His vision blurred with rage and fear. He read the note twice more, searching for any hint of their location. Nothing.

FBI vehicles screeched to a stop around him. Agent Chen approached, her face grim as she surveyed the scene.

"Rose Lewis?" she asked quietly.

Alexander nodded, handing her the note. "She's had this planned for weeks. Waiting for the perfect moment."

Chen read the message, her professional mask slipping slightly. "We'll find her, Pierce. Every agent, every resource. We'll find them both."

"Forty-eight hours," Alexander said, his voice flat. "That's all the time Camille has."

"Then we don't waste a minute." Chen was already directing her agents, organizing search teams, calling in forensic units.

Alexander stepped away, making the hardest call of his life. Victoria needed to know. Now.

She answered on the second ring. "Alexander? Is Camille with you? She hasn't called."

The hope in her voice cut like a knife. Alexander swallowed hard before responding. "Victoria, something's happened. Rose has taken Camille."

The silence on the other end lasted only seconds, but it felt like years.

"Tell me everything," Victoria said finally, her voice shifting into the commanding tone that had intimidated boardrooms for decades.

He explained quickly, the distress signal, the scene he found, the note. Every detail he had.

"I'm coming back to the city," Victoria said when he finished.

"No," Alexander countered. "Rose might be watching your lake house. Moving you could put you at risk too."

"I don't care about-"

"Camille would," he interrupted. "She would want you safe. Stay there. We'll set up a command center at the lake house. Bring everything to you."

Another silence, then: "Two hours. I want you and everyone working on this case at the lake house in two hours. Not a minute more."

Alexander agreed, already moving toward his car. He had one more call to make, one he never thought he'd initiate.

Stefan Rodriguez answered immediately. "Alexander? What's wrong?"

"Rose has Camille," Alexander said without preamble. "I need everytking you know about her. Where she might go. What places have meaning to her. Any property connections, friends, anything."

Stefan's sharp intake of breath was audible. "When?"

"Less than an hour ago. She left a note giving us 48 hours before she kills Camille."

"I'll be at your office in twenty

minutes, Stefan promised. "I know things about Rose that aren't

in any file. Places she mentioned when she thought I wasn't listening."

"Not the office. Victoria's lake house. And hurry."

Alexander ended the call and climbed into his car. As he drove away from the scene, leaving the FBI to process evidence, a single thought burned in his mind: he would find Camille. He would bring her home. And then he would make Rose pay for every second of fear she had caused.

 

Chapter 164

Chapter 164

The drive to the lake house was a battle against time and his own racing

thoughts. Alexander made calls continuously, to his security teams, to his tech specialists, to anyone who might help locate Camille. He ordered satellite imagery of the area where she was taken. Traffic camera footage. Cell tower data. Anything that might give them a lead.

Victoria was waiting on the deck when he arrived, her face pale but composed. Despite her illness, despite her recent treatments, she stood straight-backed and commanding. The sight gave Alexander a flicker of hope. If anyone could match Rose's determination, it was Victoria Kane.

"The FBI will be here in thirty minutes," he reported. "Stefan Rodriguez shortly after. I've got my own teams setting up tracking operations."

Victoria nodded, gesturing for him to follow her inside. The living room had been transformed in record time. Computer screens lined one wall. Maps covered another. Victoria's assistant directed a constant flow of staff setting up equipment.

"Tell me what you know about the note," Victoria said, moving to a chair at the head of the hastily arranged conference table.

Alexander placed the evidence bag containing Rose's message before her. "The FBI is analyzing it for fingerprints, DNA, any trace evidence. But Rose isn't stupid. She wouldn't leave anything that could lead us to her."

Victoria read the note, her expression darkening. "Forty-eight hours."

"We'll find her before then," Alexander insisted, trying to believe his own words.

"Yes, we will." Victoria looked up at him, steel in her gaze. "Because we know Rose better than she knows herself. She's driven by emotions, hatred, jealousy, obsession. Those make her powerful, but they also make her predictable."

Before Alexander could respond, the door opened. Stefan entered, his face drawn with worry. Behind him came Agent Chen and three other FBI agents, carrying equipment and files.

"The team is setting up a perimeter around the property," Chen informed them. "No one gets within a mile without us knowing."

Victoria acknowledged this with a nod, then turned her attention to Stefan. "You know Rose better than any of us. Where would she take Camille?"

Stefan moved to the maps on the wall, studying them intently. "She'd want somewhere isolated. Somewhere she controls completely. And somewhere meaningful to her narrative."

"What narrative?" Alexander asked.

"That Camille stole her life," Stefan explained. "Rose believes everything Camille has should have been hers, the family, the status, me, everything. In her mind, Camille is the thief, not her."

Victoria's eyes narrowed. "So she'd take Camille somewhere connected to that belief. Somewhere that represents what was 'stolen' from her."

"Exactly." Stefan turned to face them. "And I think I know where."

He pointed to a location on the map, a rural area north of the city. "The Lewis family had a hunting cabin here. Camille and Rose spent summers there as teenagers. Rose always said it was where she felt most like part of the family, before things changed between them."

"Why would she take Camille there?" Agent Chen asked. "We'd check family properties immediately."

"Because it's not in the Lewis family anymore," Stefan explained. "They sold it years ago to a developer. The land was cleared, the cabin torn down. There's nothing there now according to official records."

A spark of understanding lit in Alexander's eyes. "But?"

"But Rose told me once that she bought it back through a shell company. Said she couldn't bear for strangers to destroy her 'only real home.' She used a different name, different paperwork. There would be no way to connect it to her."

Victoria was already on the phone, instructing her assistant to find records of all property transactions in that area for the past five years. Alexander studied the location on the map, calculating distances, approach routes, possible extraction plans.

"We need satellite imagery of that area," he told Agent Chen. "Current images, not whatever is in the public databases."

Chen nodded, already contacting her team. "If there's a structure there, we'll find

it."

As the room erupted into focused activity, Alexander stepped outside onto the deck, needing a moment to breathe. The lake stretched before him, peaceful and oblivious to the nightmare unfolding. Somewhere out there, Camille was in Rose's hands. Afraid. Possibly hurt. Definitely in danger.

The thought nearly brought him to his knees.

Stefan joined him, his face reflecting similar torment. "We'll find her," he said quietly. "Rose wants an audience for her revenge. She won't rush this."

"Forty-eight hours," Alexander reminded him, the deadline burning in his mind. "Rose is theatrical," Stefan insisted. "She wants to draw this out, make Camille suffer. The deadline is just to pressure us, make us desperate."

Alexander turned to look at him. "And is it working? Are we desperate?"

Stefan met his gaze steadily. "Yes. But that doesn't mean we're wrong about the cabin. Rose is obsessed with symbols, with proving points. Taking Camille back to where they were once family, before everything fettapart, that fits her twisted logic."

Victoria's voice called them back inside. Her assistant had found something.

"Property records show the old Lewis cabin land was purchased by a company called Phoenix Rises LLC Six months years ago," she reported. "Building permits were filed one months later."

The irony of the company name, Phoenix, the symbol Camille had chosen for her foundation, was not lost on any of them.

"That's her," Stefan confirmed. "Rose would love the symbolism of using Camille's own phoenix against her."

Agent Chen approached with a tablet. "Satellite imagery from this morning shows a structure in those woods. Looks like a modern cabin, much larger than the original would have been. And there's something else." She swiped to another image. "This was taken thirty minutes ago. There's a black van parked at the cabin. Wasn't there in the morning image."

Alexander's heart raced. "That's them."

"We need a tactical plan," Chen said. "The property is isolated, at least a mile

from any other structures. Heavily wooded. Limited access roads."

"And Rose will have security," Stefan added. "People like the ones who took Camille. Professional. Dangerous."

Victoria's voice cut through the tension. "Alexander, what do you need?"

He thought for a moment, tactical options flooding his mind. "Thermal imaging.

We need to know how many people are in that cabin. Where they're positioned. Where Camille is being held."

"Done," Chen said, already making the call.

"I want my own team on this," Alexander continued. "People I trust absolutely. Working alongside the FBI."

Victoria nodded. "Whatever you need. Whatever it costs. Just bring her home."

The room fell silent for a moment as the weight of what they faced settled over them. Forty-seven hours remained in Rose's deadline. Forty-seven hours to plan a rescue, to extract Camille from a fortress designed specifically to hold her. Stefan broke the silence. "There's something else you should know about Rose. Something that might help."

All eyes turned to him.

"She'll want to break Camille completely before she kills her. Want to see the light

go out in her eyes, the hope fade. That's what this is really about for Rose, seeing Camille utterly defeated."

"How does that help us?" Alexander asked, struggling to contain his rage at the thought.

"Because it means she won't rush," Stefan explained. "She'll take her time, draw it out. And that gives us the one thing we need most right now."

"Time," Victoria finished for him.

"Yes." Stefan turned back to the map. "She'll want to savor her victory. Want Camille to suffer. As terrible as that is, it works in our favor."

Alexander felt sick at the thought of what Camille might be enduring, but Stefan was right. Rose's sadism might be the one thing that would keep Camille alive long enough for them to find her.

"We move at dawn," he decided. "Full tactical approach. We'll need the cover of darkness, and we'll need the next twelve hours to prepare properly."

Victoria nodded her approval. "Make it happen."

As the room transformed into a hive of strategic planning, Alexander stepped away once more. He removed a small velvet box from his pocket, the necklace ring he had been carrying for months, waiting for the right moment to offer it to Camille. He had planned to give it her when this was all over, when Rose was caught, when they could finally live without looking over their shoulders.

Now he wondered if that moment would ever come.

"I'm coming for you," he whispered, clutching the necklace tightly in his palm.

"Hold on, Camille. Just hold on."

 

Chapter 165

Chapter 165

Cold. That was the first thing Camille felt. Cold and a deep, throbbing pain in her head.

She tried to move, but her arms wouldn't respond. Slowly, her eyes opened to a dimly lit room with wooden walls. Her vision swam, the effects of whatever drug Rose had given her still lingering in her system.

Looking down, Camille saw thick rope binding her to a heavy wooden chair. Each wrist tied separately to the armrests, ankles secured to the chair legs. Whoever had tied these knots knew what they were doing.

A wave of fear washed over her, threatening to drown her reason. She forced it down, focusing instead on her surroundings. Wooden walls. A stone fireplace. Large windows showing dense forest outside. And something else, something familiar.

Recognition dawned slowly. She knew this place. Or rather, she knew what it had once been.

The old Lewis family cabin. Where they had spent summers when they were younger. Where they had once been sisters before everything changed.

But this wasn't exactly the cabin she remembered. That had been smaller, older. This was a new structure built on the same spot, incorporating elements of the original, the stone fireplace, the position of the windows, but larger, more modern.

"Finally awake, sleeping beauty?" Rose's voice came from behind her.

Camille tensed but kept her breathing steady, refusing to show fear as Rose walked around to face her. Her sister looked different than she had at the roadside. She'd washed out the black hair dye, returning to her natural color. Dressed not in the tactical gear from the ambush but in casual clothes, jeans and a sweater that reminded Camille of what they used to wear during those summer vacations.

"Do you like what I've done with the place?" Rose asked, gesturing around them. "I rebuilt it exactly as I remembered, with a few modern touches. Dad sold it after everything fell apart. After they thought that you died."

Camille worked moisture into her dry mouth. "Why am I here, Rose?"

"So impatient," Rose chided, pulling up a chair to sit facing Camille. "No appreciation for symmetry. For perfect endings." She leaned forward, eyes glittering with excitement. "Don't you see? This is where we were happiest together. Before you turned everyone against me."

"I didn't turn anyone against you," Camille said quietly. "You did that yourself when you tried to kill me."

Rose's face hardened. "Is that what you tell yourself? That I'm the villain in this story?" She stood abruptly. "They abandoned me. Our parents. Stefan. Everyone chose you and threw me away."

She paced the room, agitation making her movements sharp and jerky. "But that doesn't matter anymore. What matters is that we've come full circle. Back to where we were once happy. Back to where everything changed."

Camille tested the ropes binding her wrists. No give at all. Rose noticed and smiled.

"Don't bother. My men are professionals. Former military. They know how to keep someone secure."

"Where are they now?" Camille asked, looking around the empty cabin main

room.

"Around," Rose said vaguely. "Keeping watch. Making sure your boyfriend and his security teams don't interrupt our sister time." She sat down again, leaning uncomfortably close. "We have so much catching up to do."

Despite the pounding in her head and the fear churning in her stomach, Camille met Rose's gaze steadily. "They'll find me, Rose. Alexander, Victoria, the FBI, they're looking for me right now."

Rose's smile widened. "I'm counting on it. But they won't find you in time." "In time for what?"

"In time to save you?" Rose shrugged. "That depends on how you define 'save.' Will they find you alive? Probably. Will they find you whole? Unbroken? Now that's a different question entirely."

A chill ran down Camille's spine, but she kept her expression neutral. Victoria had taught her well, never show weakness to an opponent. And Rose was nothing if not an opponent now.

"What do you want?" Camille asked again. "You've had months to plan. Weeks to prepare. Now you have me. So what's the point of all this?"

Rose stood again, moving to a table where a laptop sat open. "The point? Oh, sister dear, the point is to take everything from you. Just as you took everything from me." She tapped a few keys on the laptop. "But not all at once. That would be too... merciful."

The screen lit up, showing a split view of four different camera feeds. Camille recognized them immediately, Victoria's lake house. Alexander's apartment. Her parents' home. The Kane Industries building.

"I've been watching all of them," Rose explained, her voice casual, as if discussing the weather. "Planning my next move."

Horror bloomed in Camille's chest. "Rose, don't. They've done nothing to you."

"Nothing?" Rose's voice rose sharply. "Victoria Kane took you in, made you her heir, gave you everything I should have had. Alexander Pierce loves you, protects you, stood by you. Our parents chose you over me, abandoned me when I needed them most. Again and again, they all chose you."

She moved closer, her face inches from Camille's. "And now they'll pay for that choice. One by one. While you watch. Unable to warn them. Unable to save them."

Camille fought to keep her breathing steady, to not show the terror gripping her heart. "Why not just kill me then? Why go after them?"

"Because death is too quick, too clean," Rose explained, her tone frighteningly reasonable. "I want you to live, Camille. Live knowing everyone you love died because of you. Live with that pain eating away at you every day, just as I've lived with the knowledge that I was never enough. Never the daughter they wanted. Never the sister you valued."

Despite her efforts to remain calm, tears burned in Camille's eyes. "You're wrong, Rose. So wrong about everything. They loved you. I loved you. But you tried to kill me, what did you expect them to do?"

"I expected loyalty!" Rose shouted. "I expected them to understand that everything I did was because of how they treated me. Always comparing me to perfect Camille. Always making me feel like I didn't belong."

For a split second, Camille saw the hurt child Rose had once been, the adopted girl who never felt secure in her place, who always thought she had to fight for love.

Then the moment passed, and Rose's expression hardened again. "It doesn't matter now. What matters is what comes next." She pointed to the screens. "Victoria first, I think. The woman who replaced your mother. Who made you her heir while I was cast aside."

"No," Camille whispered, the word torn from her throat. "Please, Rose. She's ill. She's recovering from cancer."

"I know," Rose said coldly. "That

makes her the perfect first target. So vulnerable in that isolated lake

house. So trusting of her security team. She smiled over her shoulder at Camille. "I've been studying the layout, the routines, the weaknesses in her protection. When the time comes, it will be so easy."

Camille lunged forward, the chair scraping against the wooden floor as she fought against her bonds. "Stop it! Stop this now!"

"Why should I?" Rose turned, watching Camille's struggles with mild interest. "You took everything from me. My family. My place. My future. Now I'm taking everything from you."

"I never took anything from you!" Camille shouted, abandoning her attempt to stay calm. "You tried to kill me! They found out the truth about you!"

"THE TRUTH?" Rose's sudden scream echoed through the cabin. "The truth is that they never really wanted me. The truth is that I was never good enough. The truth is that from the moment they adopted me, I was just waiting to be thrown

away."

Her chest heaved with emotion,

hands clenched at her sides. "Do you

know what it's like? To never feel

secure? To always be afraid that one

mistake will make them send you back? To watch them love their real daughter unconditionally while you have to earn every scrap of affection?"

Despite everything, the fear, the danger, the threats to those she loved, Camille felt a flicker of pity for her sister. "Rose, that wasn't real. It was all in your mind. They loved you. We all did."

"STOP SAYING THAT!" Rose grabbed a vase from a nearby table and hurled it against the wall. It shattered, pieces scattering across the floor like her fractured words. "Stop lying to me! They threw me away. They abandoned me. They chose you."

For the first time, Camille saw clearly the depth of Rose's delusion, the sickness that had warped her mind over years of perceived rejection. This wasn't just jealousy or resentment. This was something deeper, more broken. "Rose," she said softly, "you need help. This isn't right. This isn't you."

"You don't know me," Rose spat. "You never did." She turned back to the laptop. "And now it's too late."

Camille watched helplessly as Rose studied the surveillance feeds, her finger tracing Victoria's image on the screen. "Tomorrow I start with Victoria. Such a shame her cancer treatment will take a sudden turn for the worse."

"Please," Camille begged, all pride forgotten. "Don't hurt her. Hurt me instead. I'm the one you want to punish."

Rose looked up, something cold and calculating in her eyes. "Oh, I am hurting you," she said quietly. "More than if I used knives or fists. I'm taking away the people you love. One by one. Forcing you to watch. Unable to save them."

She closed the laptop. "It's already in motion, sister dear. My plan is set. Soon Victoria Kane will suffer a tragic setback. Such a shame, after she seemed to be improving so well."

Tears streamed down Camille's face now, unchecked. "Rose, please. It's not too late to stop this."

"It was too late months ago," Rose replied, standing up. "Too late when they chose you over me. Too late when they abandoned me for trying to make things fair. Too late when

Victoria Kane saved you from that parking garage and made you her heir while I lost everything." She smiled, a terrible empty expression. "Now all I can do is make things even. Take from you what you took from me."

"And then what?" Camille asked, desperately trying to reach whatever humanity

might remain in her sister. "After you've killed everyone I love. After you've broken me. What then, Rose?"

For a moment, Rose looked confused, as if she hadn't thought beyond her revenge. "Then... then we're even."

"And will that make you happy?" Camille pressed. "Will that fill the emptiness

inside you? The hurt? The pain?"

Rose turned away. "Stop it."

"Will killing Victoria bring back our family? Will hurting Alexander erase what happened? Will destroying me heal you?"

"STOP IT!" Rose whirled back, her face contorted with rage and something else,

uncertainty. "You don't get to question me. You don't get to judge me. Not after everything you've taken."

Camille saw it then, the hairline crack in Rose's certainty. The moment of doubt. She pushed harder. "I never took anything from you, Rose. You destroyed it yourself. And this revenge won't give it back."

For a heartbeat, Rose seemed to waver. Then her face hardened again. "Nice try,

sister dear. But your psychological games won't work on me. I've been planning this for too long. Waiting for this moment."

She moved to the door. "I'm going to check with my men. When I come back, we

will continue." She smiled, cold and empty. "Won't that be fun? A little sister's reunion"

The door closed behind her, leaving Camille alone with the knowledge that Victoria was in immediate danger, that Alexander would be next, that everyone she loved had a target on their back, and she was powerless to warn them.

But Rose's moment of uncertainty lingered in her mind. The crack in her sister's armor. Small, almost invisible, but real.

Camille looked around the cabin, searching for anything that might help her

escape. The ropes were too tight, the knots too professional. But Rose had made one mistake.

She had left the laptop.

Closed, but still there on the table. If Camille could somehow get to it, somehow open it, maybe she could send a warning. Alert Alexander. Save Victoria. Straining against her bonds, Camille worked to inch the heavy chair across the floor toward the table. Each movement was agony, the ropes digging into her wrists and ankles, but the thought of Victoria in danger drove her forward. Outside, she heard voices, Rose speaking to someone. She had minutes at most.

Desperation gave her strength. The chair legs scraped across the wooden floor as she fought to reach the table, to somehow save the people she loved before Rose destroyed them one by one.

And as she struggled, one thought burned in her mind: this place, this cabin

where they had once been sisters, would not become the site of Rose's final victory. Whatever it took, whatever she had to endure, She would not let Rose win. Not this time. Not ever.