Chapter 11CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW"Stanford University, class of 2016. Summa cum laude. Double major in Economics and Computer Science."I stared at the diploma in my hands, the heavy paper embossed with gold seals and signatures. My name, Camille Kane written in elegant calligraphy across the center. A degree I never earned from a university I'd never attended."How is this possible?" I asked, running my finger over the raised seal. It felt real. Everything felt real.Victoria sat across from me in her private office, walls lined with dark wood and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. A massive desk separated us, covered with documents spread out like puzzle pieces forming my new life."Money opens many doors," she said, sliding another folder toward me. "People are surprisingly willing to alter records when the price is right. The right donation to the alumni fund, the right conversation with the right dean."I opened the folder to find transcripts, teacher evaluations, even photos of "me
Chapter 12Camille's point of view Rose had posted a "tribute" to me, a carefully filtered photo of us as teenagers, her arm around my shoulders, her face glowing while mine was partly in shadow. "Missing my angel sister every day. Your light was too bright for this world. #SisterLove #Forever"Beneath it, dozens of sympathetic comments. Friends who'd never questioned her role in my marriage's end. Acquaintances eager to attach themselves to her grief narrative.And Stefan, commenting with a simple heart emoji. The man who'd handed me divorce papers on our anniversary, now publicly mourning the wife he'd discarded."Enough," I said finally, closing the laptop. "I've seen what I needed to see."Victoria studied me carefully. "And what do you feel?"I searched myself, digging for the hurt, the rage, the betrayal that should be there. Instead, I found something colder, more focused. Like looking at specimens in a lab."Nothing," I answered honestly. "They're strangers performing in a pl
Chapter 13CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW the "Hold still, please."Dr. Miranda Torres's gloved fingers touched my chin, turning my face gently to catch the light. Her dark eyes studied every curve and angle with the focus of an artist examining marble before the first chisel strike. We sat in her private clinic, a discreet facility hidden behind unmarked doors in a luxury Manhattan building. The consultation room looked more like an upscale spa than a medical office, with soft lighting, expensive artwork, and not a single diploma on display. The credentials were understood, not advertised. Dr. Torres didn't need wall decorations to prove her expertise, her client list of celebrities, politicians, and billionaires spoke for itself."Forgive my directness," she said, releasing my face and sitting back, "but you have excellent bone structure. We won't need to do nearly as much as I initially thought."I glanced at Victoria, who sat in a leather chair in the corner, tablet in hand, seemingly
Chapter 14Camille's point of view Victoria watched with unreadable eyes as Dr. Torres led me to the large bathroom. A white cloth covered the full-length mirror. The doctor positioned me carefully, standing slightly behind my right shoulder."Remember," she said gently, "what you see today is still healing. There's swelling, bruising. The final results won't be visible for weeks. But you'll get a first impression of your new appearance."With that, she pulled away the cloth.I gasped.The woman in the mirror was me, but not me. My face but enhanced in ways that transformed my entire appearance. My cheekbones cast elegant shadows beneath them, giving my face a sculpted quality it had never possessed before. My jawline looked stronger, more defined. My brows arched slightly higher, making my eyes appear larger, more commanding.Even through residual swelling and faint bruising, I could see the changes Dr. Torres had created. Subtle individually, powerful collectively. My lips had a ne
Chapter 15CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEWThe fist came at my face too fast to dodge. I tried to block like Jason had taught me, but my arms felt heavy as stone. His knuckles grazed my cheek as I stumbled backward."Too slow," he barked. "Again."My lungs burned. Sweat stung my eyes. We'd been at this for almost two hours, and the digital clock on the gym wall showed 5:47 AM. The sun wasn't even up yet.Jason Winters stood opposite me on the training mat, barely breathing hard. His military haircut and scarred face gave nothing away, no tiredness, no frustration, just cold assessment. As Victoria's head of security, he'd protected presidents and royalty before becoming my combat instructor three weeks ago."I can't," I gasped, hands on my knees. "Need water.""Your sister won't give you water when she's destroying everything you love," he said flatly. "Your ex-husband won't offer a break when he's laughing at your weakness."The mention of Rose and Stefan sent fresh anger coursing through me
Chapter 16Camille's point of view By four o'clock, my brain felt stuffed with French conjugations and pronunciation corrections. My third coffee of the day wasn't helping the shaking in my hands.Mrs. Harrington, the etiquette coach, noticed immediately. "A lady never allows fatigue to show," she reprimanded, straightening my already-straight spine. "Shoulders back. Chin parallel to the floor. Now, let's review the proper handling of difficult dinner conversations."For two more hours, we practiced responding to inappropriate questions, managing awkward silences, and the subtle art of steering conversations toward or away from specific topics. All skills Victoria deemed essential for navigating the society events that would soon fill my calendar.When James finally drove me back to the mansion at six, I had exactly forty-five minutes to prepare for dinner with the board members. My head pounded. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. The thought of making small talk with twel
Chapter 17ROSE'S POINT OF VIEW"Ms. Lewis, do you think the police should reopen the investigation into your sister's death?"The reporter's question hit me like ice water as I stepped out of my boutique. Three months. Three months since Camille's car had been pulled from the river. Three months of playing the grieving sister while secretly celebrating my freedom. And still, these vultures wouldn't let it rest.I arranged my face into the perfect mask of dignified grief I'd perfected. "My family continues to cooperate fully with authorities," I said, voice carefully modulated to show emotion without appearing unstable. "But we've accepted the official conclusion. Sometimes we must find peace without all the answers."The reporter pressed closer, microphone extended. "Sources close to the investigation say no body was ever recovered. Some suggest the case should be treated as a missing person situation rather than a presumed drowning."My heart skipped a beat, though my expression rem
Chapter 18Rose point in viewBy evening, I was exhausted from maintaining the perfect balance of grieving sister and focused businesswoman. My driver took me to my parents' house for our weekly family dinner, a tradition I'd insisted on continuing "to help us heal together."In reality, these dinners served to monitor my parents, manage the family narrative, and remind everyone of my central role in holding things together post-tragedy. Tonight, however, I dreaded facing Mom's suspicious eyes.The house looked the same as always, manicured lawn, gleaming windows, tasteful luxury evident in every detail. The home I'd been brought to fourteen years ago, plucked from the foster system into privilege. The home where I'd systematically established my dominance over every aspect of family life.Helen, the housekeeper, opened the door before I could ring the bell. "They're in the sitting room, Miss Rose. Your mother's had... a difficult day." Mom was drinking again. Perfect. An inebriated
Chapter 29CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEWThe engagement party filled the screen before me, bright lights and beautiful people swirling in celebration. I sat motionless in Victoria's guest suite, hands folded in my lap, breathing measured despite the storm in my chest. Three cameras captured the event from different angles, ensuring not a single moment of joy would go undocumented.Joy for them. Torture for me.The Rodriguez family estate had been transformed into a fairytale setting, white roses everywhere, crystal chandeliers hanging from pavilions, string quartet playing softly. Two hundred guests in designer formal wear, champagne flowing freely, laughter rising into the night air.And at the center of it all, Rose and Stefan. My sister and my ex-husband."The engagement of the year," the entertainment reporter gushed. "Stefan Rodriguez, heir to the Rodriguez shipping fortune, and renowned fashion designer Rose Lewis have finally made their relationship official after a respectful period
Chapter 28ROSE'S POINT OF VIEW"You've been distant lately," I said, stirring my coffee with practiced precision. Three clockwise turns, no more, no less. Morning sunlight streamed through the windows of Stefan's penthouse, our penthouse now, though I maintained my own apartment for appearance's sake.Eight months since Camille's "death." Eight months of nurturing Stefan through grief, providing just enough comfort to keep him dependent without allowing him to fully heal. A delicate balance, but one I'd mastered through years of subtle manipulation.Stefan looked up from his newspaper, dark circles beneath his eyes betraying another sleepless night. "Have I? Sorry. Work's been demanding."A lie. His family company practically ran itself, generations of wealth ensuring he needed to do little more than show up for board meetings and sign occasional papers. No, what kept him awake wasn't work but guilt. The gift that kept giving."I worry about you," I reached across the table, taking h
CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW"Neurix Technologies," Victoria said, sliding the folder across her desk. "Twenty-seven employees. Promising neural interface technology. Currently entertaining acquisition offers.""And?" I asked, waiting for the catch. With Victoria, there was always a catch."And you'll be handling the acquisition." She leaned back, expression unreadable. "Alone."My heart stuttered. After eight months of shadowing Victoria at Kane Industries, this was my first real test."Their valuation?""They're asking ninety million. They're worth sixty-five, at most. I want them for fifty.""When do negotiations begin?""Two hours. The meeting is set for eleven at our downtown offices."My head snapped up. "Today? You're giving me two hours to prepare?"A small, cold smile played at her mouth. "In business, opportunities rarely announce themselves weeks in advance. Besides, you've had eight months of preparation.""Who am I negotiating against?""Marcus Whitfield."The name hit me like
STEFAN'S POINT OF VIEWThe bourbon burned down my throat, a welcome fire against the cold emptiness spreading through my chest. I signaled the bartender for another. My fourth? Fifth? I'd lost count hours ago."You sure about that, buddy?" he asked, eyeing the empty glasses."Just pour the damn drink," I growled.The alcohol couldn't drown the words that had haunted me all day: Martin Greene reading Camille's will, her final message cutting through me like a blade.*"To my former husband, Stefan Rodriguez, I return the engagement ring that belonged to his grandmother, with the hope that next time he gives it, it will be with honesty and true devotion."*The ring sat heavy in my pocket, retrieved from the safety deposit box this morning. Grandmother Rosa's ring. Three generations of Rodriguez women had worn it before I'd placed it on Camille's finger, promising forever with words that turned to ash in my mouth.Thirty million dollars and the Cedar Hill estate. All of it to charity. Not
ROSE'S POINT OF VIEWI slammed my apartment door so hard the walls shook. The sound echoed through the empty space, matching the thunder in my heart. My hands shook as I poured myself a drink, spilling expensive whiskey on the marble counter."Damn you, Camille," I whispered, then screamed it: "DAMN YOU!"The crystal glass flew from my hand, shattering against the wall in a spray of amber liquid and broken dreams. Thirty million dollars. The Cedar Hill estate. All of it gone to those worthless foster kids.My legs gave out and I slid to the kitchen floor, surrounded by the mess I'd made. Just like my life - everything perfect on the surface, chaos underneath. And now Camille, sweet, stupid Camille, had managed to ruin everything even from the grave."You think you're so clever, don't you?" I spoke to the empty air, imagining her ghost watching me fall apart. "Little Miss Perfect with her secret fortune. Did you laugh about it? Did you enjoy knowing you had something I didn't?"I grabb
ROSE'S POINT OF VIEWThe law office of Berkman, Wade, and Associates smelled of leather, money, and superiority. I adjusted my black dress and studied the others in the conference room. Mom dabbed at her eyes with a monogrammed handkerchief. Dad stared blankly at the polished table. Stefan sat apart from us, face drawn and pale.All of us performing our assigned roles. The grieving family. The heartbroken ex-husband. A perfect tableau of loss.And why wouldn't we? Camille was dead. I knew that for certain. The men I'd hired hadn't just scared her as originally planned, they'd gone further, forcing her car off that bridge, watching it sink into the dark water. They'd called me afterward, panic in their voices. I'd paid them extra for their silence, then cut all contact.Martin Greene entered, carrying a leather portfolio. Dad's longtime lawyer looked appropriately grave as he took a seat."Thank you all for coming," he said. "With the court having legally declared Camille deceased in a
Chapter 23CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEWThe scream ripped from my throat before I was fully awake, my body jackknifing upright in bed. Sweat soaked through my silk nightgown, heart hammering against my ribs like it might break through. For a moment, I didn't know where I was, lost in the space between nightmare and reality.Rose's face, smiling as I drowned. Stefan watching from the shore, doing nothing. Their fingers intertwined as they witnessed my death, as casual as if they were watching a sunset."Ms. Kane?" A knock at my bedroom door. "Do you need assistance?"The night guard. New guy. Torres or Torrez. I couldn't remember his name. Victoria rotated security personnel regularly, another layer of protection in her perfectly orchestrated world."I'm fine," I called back, voice steadier than I felt. "Just a dream.""Yes, ma'am. Dr. Reed has been notified as per protocol."Of course she had. Everything in Victoria's mansion was monitored, measured, reported. Privacy was a luxury I'd surr
Chapter 22ROSE'S POINT OF VIEWThe shoe sat on Detective Ramirez's desk between us. A woman's size seven pump, once black, now gray-green from three months underwater. The heel had broken off, but the designer's red sole remained visible. Louboutin. Unmistakably Camille's."Is this your sister's shoe, Ms. Lewis?" Detective Ramirez asked, his tired eyes watching my reaction carefully.I reached for it with trembling fingers, a calculated tremor I'd practiced thatmorning. "Yes," I whispered, voice breaking on cue. "She wore these the last time I saw her. A gift from our parents for her birthday."The lie slid out smoothly. In truth, I'd given Camille those shoes when she landed her first job, playing the generous big sister while privately mocking her pathetic excitement over my hand-me-downs."Does seeing this personal item bring up any new thoughts about your sister's state of mind before her disappearance?"An interesting question. Not "accident" or "drowning," but "disappearance."
Chapter 21Camille's point of view Victoria's gaze sharpened. "Yes. Every lesson, every challenge, every seemingly excessive demand, they all serve that purpose. To make you stronger than Sophia was. More prepared for the dangers wealth and power attract.""And to make me capable of the revenge you've planned.""That too," she acknowledged. "The people who hurt you must pay for what they've done. But beyond revenge lies something more important, your future. What you'll build after justice is served."I considered her words, understanding for the first time that Victoria's vision extended beyond my usefulness as an instrument of revenge. She was investing in me for reasons beyond my resemblance to Sophia or my vendetta against Rose."I still shouldn't have come in here without permission," I said after a moment. "This space is sacred to you. I violated that."Victoria sighed, tension visibly leaving her shoulders. "Perhaps it was inevitable. Perhaps it was even necessary." She turned