Chapter 184
Chapter 184
Morning light streamed through stained glass windows, painting rainbow patterns across the white marble floor of St. Thomas
Cathedral. Outside, photographers jostled behind velvet ropes as New York’s business elite, dressed in their finest, filed into the
church. Security personnel with earpieces stood at every entrance, their eyes constantly scanning the crowd.
In a private room off the main chapel, Camille stood before a full–length mirror, barely breathing as her mother fastened the last
pearl button on her dress. The gown, a masterpiece of ivory silk and handmade lace, hugged her curves before flowing out in a
gentle train.
“Almost done,” Margaret whispered, her fingers trembling slightly as she worked. The past months had brought a fragile peace
between them – not full forgiveness, but a bridge being built one careful step at a time.
Camille met her mother’s eyes in the mirror. “Thank you.”
The words held weight beyond the dress, and Margaret blinked back tears as she nodded.
A knock at the door broke the moment. Victoria entered, wearing a steel–blue dress that made her silver hair shine like polished
metal. Though still thin from her cancer treatments, she moved with purpose, energy returning to her frame week by week as the
experimental treatment continued to shrink her tumors.
“It’s time,” Victoria said, then stopped, her usual composure slipping as she took in Camille’s appearance. “Oh, my dear.”
Camille turned, suddenly shy under Victoria’s gaze. “Is it too much?”
Victoria shook her head, words failing her. Instead, she approached with a velvet box in her hands. “I want you to have this
today.”
Inside nested a platinum necklace, a delicate chain supporting a diamond–encrusted phoenix. The craftsmanship was
extraordinary, each feather etched with perfect detail.
“It was meant for Sophia,” Victoria admitted quietly. “For her wedding day.”
Camille’s throat tightened. “Victoria, I can’t…”
“You can. You must.” Victoria lifted the necklace. “This belongs with you now. My daughter in every way that matters.”
Camille bent her head, allowing Victoria to fasten the clasp. The metal felt cool against her skin, a gentle weight settling just
above her heart.
When she straightened, both Victoria and Margaret were watching her, these two women who had shaped her in such different
ways. One who had given her life, the other who had given her rebirth.
“Ready?” Victoria asked, her eyes bright with maternal pride.
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Camille nodded, gathering her bouquet of white roses and phoenix flowers. “Ready.”
******
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Alexander stood at the altar, his back straight, his hands clasped before him to hide their slight trembling. Stefan Rodriguez sat among the guests, a surprise addition to the invitation list, but Camille had insisted. His testimony at the trial and the bullet he’d taken for Camille had earned him, if not forgiveness, then at least acknowledgment.
The weight of the silver pocket watch pressed against Alexander’s chest, hidden in the inner pocket of his tuxedo. He’d carried it every day since discovering it in that storage unit. A reminder. A question still unanswered.
The organ music swelled, and the cathedral doors swung open. First came Hannah Zhao, Camille’s chief engineer and now friend, walking slowly down the aisle in deep burgundy. Then his gaze found Camille, and everything else faded.
She was radiant, her dark hair swept up with tiny diamond pins, her face partially hidden behind a whisper–thin veil. Richard Lewis walked beside her, his face a mix of pride and lingering regret.
As Camille approached, each step bringing her closer, Alexander felt the watch grow heavier against his heart. The truth it represented loomed between them – the revelation that Victoria had destroyed his uncle’s company, indirectly causing his suicide. A secret he’d chosen to carry alone rather than shatter their happiness.
When Camille reached him, Richard placed her hand in Alexander’s with a formal nod before stepping back. Through the veil,
Alexander could see her eyes shining, full of trust and certainty.
The priest began the ceremony, his voice resonating through the vaulted space. Alexander’s responses came automatically while
his mind raced with questions. Was he wrong to keep this from her? Would the truth tear them apart in the future?
“The couple has written their own vows,” the priest announced, nodding to Alexander to begin.
Alexander unfolded a paper from his pocket, though he knew the words by heart. He looked at Camille, this woman who had
survived so much betrayal, who had fought her way back from the edge of destruction.
“Camille,” he began, his voice steady despite the storm within. “When we met, you were emerging from ashes, building yourself
anew. I watched you transform pain into power, suffering into strength.”
The cathedral fell completely silent, hundreds of guests leaning forward to catch each word.
“I promise to stand beside you through every transformation, every challenge. To be your partner in creation, not destruction. To
build rather than break.”
His next words caught in his throat as the pocket watch seemed to burn against his chest. Victoria, standing just behind Camille,
smiled encouragingly, mistaking his pause for emotion.
Alexander swallowed hard, pushing through. “I promise to honor your past without letting it define our future. To protect the
truth of who we are, even when that truth is difficult.”
Victoria dabbed at the corner of her eye with a handkerchief, completely unaware of the double meaning behind his words.
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“Above all,” Alexander continued, finding his rhythm again, “I promise to love you completely, honestly, and faithfully, for as long as we both shall live.”
Camille’s vows followed, clear and unwavering, her voice carrying to the farthest corners of the cathedral. Alexander heard her
words through a fog, acutely aware of the burden he alone carried.
The exchange of rings passed in a blur. When the priest finally pronounced them husband and wife, Alexander lifted Camille’s
veil and kissed her, trying to pour all his unspoken feelings into that one gesture.
Applause erupted through the cathedral as they turned to face their guests. Camille’s smile was radiant, untroubled by the shadows that had briefly crossed Alexander’s face. Victoria beamed at them both, oblivious to the momentary hesitation in Alexander’s vows, seeing only the perfect union she had helped create.
The reception transformed Victoria’s estate into a wonderland of lights and flowers. Tables covered in white linen dotted the
lawns, while a dance floor had been constructed near the main fountain.
During dinner, Victoria rose to give her toast, her voice stronger than it had been in months. She lifted her glass, surveying the
gathering.
“When my daughter Sophia died,” she began, a hush falling over the crowd at the mention of the name she rarely spoke, “I believed second chances were an illusion. That once something precious was lost, it could never be found again.”
She turned to face Camille and Alexander, her expression open and vulnerable in a way few had ever seen. “I was wrong. Standing before us today are two people who prove that second chances exist. That from the deepest wounds can come the greatest healing.”
Alexander felt the watch against his chest as Victoria continued, completely unaware of the irony in her words. She had no idea
that her past actions had touched his life long before they met, that her revenge against the Prestons had claimed his uncle as collateral damage.
“To Camille and Alexander,” Victoria continued, her glass held high. “May your foundation be built on trust, your walls made of respect, and your roof crafted from unwavering love.”
Everyone drank, while Alexander sipped his champagne, feeling the weight of his secret with every heartbeat.
Later, during their first dance, Camille rested her head against his shoulder. “Happy?” she whispered.
“More than I thought possible,” he answered truthfully, holding her closer as they swayed to the music.
Across the dance floor, Victoria watched them with maternal satisfaction, her eyes shining with pride and joy. She raised her glass slightly when Alexander glanced her way, a gesture of approval and blessing, blind to the conflict hidden behind his smile.
As the evening progressed, Victoria moved through the crowd, accepting congratulations from the guests, occasionally touching
the space where Sophia’s necklace had rested for years – now proudly worn by Camille. She looked healthier than she had in
months, energized by the day’s happiness, completely unaware of the secret that could shatter the perfect family portrait she
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believed they had created.
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Alexander watched her from across the room, thinking about how differently she might look at him if she knew what he knew. But tonight was not for such revelations. Tonight was for celebration, for hope, for the beginning they had fought so hard to
reach.
The secret of Unit 237 could wait. For now, at least.
Camille looked up at him, eyes bright with happiness, untroubled by the shadows he kept hidden. “I love you, Alexander Pierce.”
“And I love you, Camille Pierce,” he replied, the name still new on his tongue.
Around them, guests clapped and cameras flashed, immortalizing their perfect moment. Victoria stood nearby, glowing with pride, believing she had witnessed the culmination of everything she’d hoped for when she first brought Camille into her life.
The dance ended. The celebration
