SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

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

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.