Chapter 53
Chapter 53
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Camille’s private suite, warming the polished wood floors and catching the fire of diamonds still resting on her dressing table. She hadn’t returned the necklace to its velvet box last night, instead leaving it where she could see it when she woke this morning, a physical reminder that the events at the museum hadn’t been a dream.
Her phone lit up with another notification. The fifth news alert in twenty minutes. She reached for it, already knowing what she’d find. Another article. Another photo. Another round of speculation about her and Alexander Pierce.
This one came from the Business Insider: “WALL STREET ABUZZ: KANE–PIERCE CONNECTION SENDS MARKETS SOARING.” The photograph showed them standing together beneath the museum chandeliers, Alexander’s hand resting lightly at the small of her back, her face turned up toward his with an expression of genuine warmth that looked foreign even to her own eyes.
Camille scrolled through the article, noting the financial analysis buried beneath the romantic speculation. Kane Industries stock up seven percent in pre–market trading. Pierce Technologies up nearly nine percent. Investors apparently enthralled by the possibility of connection between two business empires previously seen as potential rivals.
She set the phone down, gaze returning to the necklace. One hundred million dollars in diamonds, casually placed around her neck by a man who treated the extraordinary amount as if it were nothing more than a suitable accessory for her gown.
Her fingers rose unconsciously to her throat, remembering the moment. The hushed crowd watching. The slight pressure of Alexander’s hands at her nape. The warmth of his breath near her ear as he whispered words meant only for her.
“The phoenix rises. And looks more magnificent with each transformation.”
No one had spoken to her that way since her rebirth as Camille Kane. Most people approached with cautious deference, aware of her wealth and Victoria’s protection. Business associates maintained professional distance. Social contacts remained superficially pleasant but never genuine.
Only Alexander seemed to see beyond the careful facade, beyond Victoria’s creation, to something she herself sometimes forgot existed. The real woman beneath the surgical alterations and practiced mannerisms.
Her phone buzzed again. A text this time, not a news alert. Alexander’s name appeared on the screen, sending an unwelcome flutter through her chest.
*Good morning, little phoenix. I trust the diamonds made it home safely with you.*
She hesitated, knowing Victoria would disapprove of encouraging further contact. Knowing everything they’d built could be compromised by connection to someone as perceptive as Alexander Pierce.
But Victoria wasn’t here. And something about Alexander’s attention made her feel alive in ways she’d almost forgotten.
She typed a response: *The diamonds are fine. When should I expect your security to retrieve them?*
His reply came immediately: *Keep them.*
She stared at the two simple words, sure she’d misunderstood. Keep a hundred–million–dollar necklace? Impossible.
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*I can’t accept such a gift, she wrote back.
*Not a gift. A loan. Until our next meeting.*
The implication that there would be a next meeting sent another flutter through her chest, anticipation mixed with caution.
*And when might that be?* she asked, abandoning pretense that she wasn’t interested.
*Sooner than Victoria would prefer. Later than I would like.
The mention of Victoria brought reality crashing back. The carefully constructed plan. The systematic revenge against Rose and Stefan. The identity she’d built under Victoria’s guidance. All potentially threatened by whatever game Alexander was playing.
Before she could respond, another text appeared: *The phoenix looks toward the sun, not back at the ashes it rose from. Remember that when Victoria returns with her warnings about me.*
How did he know Victoria was returning early? How did he always seem to know things he shouldn’t?
*What are you really after, Alexander?* she typed, needing to understand his motivations.
Three dots appeared as he composed a response. Disappeared. Appeared again. Whatever he was writing, he kept revising.
Finally: *The same thing you are, beneath your quest for revenge. A second chance at living, not just surviving.*
The words struck deeper than she wanted to admit. Beyond her careful plans with Victoria, beyond the systematic destruction of Rose and Stefan’s lives, had she considered what came after? What she would be when revenge no longer defined her?
Her bedroom door opened without warning. Victoria stood in the threshold, still wearing her travel clothes, face tight with controlled anger.
“I see you’re awake,” Victoria said, gaze immediately finding the necklace on the dressing table. “And still in possession of Pierce’s… gesture.”
Camille set her phone down, screen darkened to hide Alexander’s messages. “I was about to arrange its return.” “That’s being handled. My security team will deliver it directly to Pierce Industries this afternoon.” Victoria entered the room, closing the door firmly behind her. “What were you thinking last night?“”
The direct confrontation was unusual. Victoria typically employed more subtle methods of expressing disapproval, pointed questions, carefully chosen silences, implied disappointment rather than direct accusations. “I was thinking about maintaining the positive impression you’ve worked so hard to create,” Camille replied, falling back on reasons Victoria would understand. “Refusing such a public gesture would have appeared ungracious.”
“And accepting it has created exactly the kind of attention we’ve carefully avoided for fifteen months.” Victoria moved to the windows, adjusting the blinds to soften the morning light. A small action that asserted control over even the sunlight entering the room. “Every major news outlet is running the story. Social media can speak of nothing else. Your name linked repeatedly with Alexander Pierce.”
“I didn’t anticipate the level of interest.”
“No,” Victoria agreed, turning back to face her. “But he did. This was calculated, Camille. Planned to create precisely this outcome.”
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Camille felt a flare of defensiveness, surprising in its intensity. “Not everything is a strategic move. Perhaps he simply….”
“Men like Alexander Pierce do nothing without multiple motives,” Victoria cut her off. “Everything is calculated, Everything serves a purpose. The question is not whether he had reasons for last night’s display, but what those reasons might be.”
The statement carried uncomfortable echoes of Alexander’s own words about Victoria. Everyone playing chess while others played checkers. Everyone seeing moves ahead while maintaining their carefully constructed masks. “What do you think his motives are?” Camille asked, genuinely curious about Victoria’s assessment.
“Business advantage, most likely,” Victoria said firmly. “Pierce Technologies and Kane Industries have several overlapping interests. An alliance, even one rumored rather than formalized, could position him favorably in markets where we currently hold advantage.”
Victoria moved to the dressing table, studying the necklace without touching it. “This was a message. To the business world. To competitors. A declaration of interest that forces everyone to speculate, driving up both our stock prices while giving him time to position his next move.”
“And how should we respond?”
“We return the necklace. We ignore the speculation. We focus on our plan.” Victoria’s voice hardened. “Rose’s fashion empire is collapsing. Stefan’s shipping company teeters on bankruptcy. We are weeks away from complete victory. This is not the time for distractions.”
The word “distractions” carried weight beyond its surface meaning. Victoria wasn’t just concerned about media attention. She was worried about Camille’s focus. About emotional entanglements that might complicate their carefully orchestrated revenge.
“Alexander Pierce is dangerous,” Victoria continued. “Not just because of his resources or intelligence. But because he makes you forget who you are and why we started this.”
The accusation stung because it contained truth. Last night, standing close to Alexander, feeling his attention focused solely on her, Camille had forgotten about Rose and Stefan. Had thought only of the connection forming between them, unexpected and unexplainable.
“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Camille said, more sharply than intended. “One evening doesn’t erase a year of planning. One necklace doesn’t change who I am or what I’m doing.”
Victoria studied her with that penetrating gaze that always made Camille feel transparent. “Doesn’t it? I saw the photographs, Camille. I saw your expression when he placed that necklace around your throat. That wasn’t Camille Kane, heir to my empire. That was someone I don’t recognize.”
“Perhaps that’s because you’ve never allowed me to be anyone but who you created,” Camille replied, the words escaping before she could contain them.
Silence fell between them, heavy with implications. This was new territory, Camille pushing back, questioning Victoria’s control, suggesting there might be identity beyond the one they’d carefully constructed together.
Before Victoria could respond, a knock came at the door. Rebecca entered, tablet in hand, expression professionally neutral despite the tension evident in the room.
“Forgive the interruption,” she said. “The PR team has completed their analysis of this morning’s media coverage. They believe an immediate response is necessary.”
Victoria held out her hand for the tablet. “I’ve already decided our approach. We’ll issue a statement thanking Mr. Pierce for his generous donation to the Children’s Heart Foundation while making it clear that any romantic
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speculation is unfounded. The necklace will be returned t
“Actually,” Rebecca interrupted, a rare occurrence that dr recommends against dismissing the speculation.”
