Chapter 89
Chapter 89
Alexander Pierce’s car slid to a stop outside the modest apartment building in Brooklyn. He checked the address on his phone again, confirming this was indeed where Stefan Rodriguez now lived. The fall from grace had been steep, from a penthouse overlooking Central Park to this brick walkup with peeling paint.
“Wait here,” he told his driver, stepping out into the brisk afternoon air.
The security buzzer was broken. Alexander pushed through the lobby door, grimacing at the smell of old cooking oil and cigarettes that hung in the narrow hallway. Apartment 3B was at the end of the third–floor corridor, its door as shabby as the rest of the building
Alexander straightened his tie, a habit from childhood wher facing difficult situations, and knocked.
Footsteps approached from inside, followed by the click of locks. The door swung open to reveal Stefan Rodriguez, unshaven and bleary–eyed in wrinkled clothes. Recognition dawned slowly on his face, followed by confusion.”
“Pierce? What the hell are you doing here?
Alexander kept his face neutral. “We need to talk.”
Stefan laughed, the sound hollow and bitter. “About what? How your girlfriend destroyed my family’s company? Or maybe you want the recipe for rock bottom. I’ve perfected it lately.”
“About Camille,” Alexander said simply. “She needs your help.”
Something flickered across Stefan’s face, surprise, guilt, curiosity. He stepped back, gesturing Alexander inside with a mocking bow.
“Welcome to my humble new reality. Excuse the mess. Maid service was one of the first luxuries to go.”
The apartment was small but surprisingly clean, despite Stefan’s appearance. A laptop sat open on a folding table surrounded by job applications and financial documents. Empty takeout containers clustered near an overflowing trash can. A mattress on the floor served as both bed and couch.
“Drink?” Stefan asked, retrieving a half–empty whiskey bottle from the kitchenette. “It’s not the thirty–year–old Macallan you’re probably used to, but it does the job.”
“No, thank you.” Alexander remained standing, studying the man before him.
“Suit yourself.” Stefan poured a generous measure into a water glass. “So what could the mighty Alexander Pierce possibly want from me? Last time I checked, I was fresh out of shipping companies for you to acquire.”
Alexander cut through the bitterness. “Have you seen the news about Camille?”
Stefan’s expression changed, defenses dropping momentarily. “About her supposed mental issues? Yeah. Hard to miss when your ex–wife is being torn apart on every channel.”
“It’s all lies,” Alexander said flatly. “Fabricated by Rose and someone with significant resources.”
“And this concerns me how, exactly?” Stefan took a long drink, but his eyes betrayed interest despite his detached
tone.
Alexander stepped closer. “Because you’re the only person who can convincingly refute Rose’s story.”
Stefan snorted. “Me? The ex–husband who cheated on her
ister sister That’s your character witness?”
“Yes,” Alexander said firmly. “You lived with Camille for yours. You know she never had these supposed
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psychiatric problems. You know Rose is lying.”
Stefan set down his glass, studying Alexander with new focus. “Why would I help her? Camille made her feelings for me perfectly clear. She wants nothing to do with me.
“This isn’t about what Camille wants from you,” Alexander replied. “It’s about doing the right thing. For once.”
The words hung in the air between them. Stefan turned away, moving to the apartment’s single window. He stared out at the brick wall of the neighboring building
“You know what’s strange?” he said finally. “Watching someone you hurt succeed without you. Seeing them build something new from the ruins you left them in.” He glanced back at Alexander. “Camille with Kane Industries. The Phoenix Grid. Her new life with you.”
“This isn’t about me,” Alexander started
“Isn’t it?” Stefan turned fully now, something sharp in his gaze. “The great Alexander Pierce, rushing to save Camille. Tell me, are you doing this because it’s ‘right‘ or because you’re in love with her?”
Alexander felt heat rise in his neck, caught off guard by the direct question. “My personal feelings aren’t relevant
to
“They’re completely relevant,” Stefan interrupted. “Because if this is just business, protecting Kane Industries and your investment in the Phoenix Grid, then I’ve got nothing for you. But if you actually care about her…”
Alexander’s carefully maintained composure cracked. “Of course I care about her. I’ve watched her rebuild herself from nothing. Seen her fight through pain that would destroy most people.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Stefan’s eyes never left Alexander’s face. “Are you in love with her?”
The question stripped away pretense. Alexander thought of Camille’s face the first time she’d truly smiled at him, not as Camille Kane but as herself. How something had shifted inside him, recognizing the strength beneath her carefully constructed facade.
“Yes,” he admitted, the word escaping before he could stop it. “Yes, I’m in love with her.”
Stefan nodded slowly, as if confirming something he’d already known. “At least you’re honest about it. That’s more than I ever was.”
He moved to the kitchenette, refilling his glass. “You know when I first saw Camille Kane at that gallery opening, something felt familiar. I couldn’t place it. Her face was different, but something in her eyes…” He shook his head. “I should have recognized her.”
“Would it have changed anything if you had?” Alexander asked.
Stefanonsidered this. “Probably not. I was too far gone by then. Too caught up in Rose’s web.” He took another drink. “Rose. God, what a fool I was.”
“You’re not the first man to be manipulated by her,” Alexander said, though his tone carried little sympathy.
“No, but I’m the one who threw away someone good for her” Stefan’s voice roughened. “You want to know if Camille ever showed signs of mental instability? The answer is no. Not once. She was the sanest, most grounded person I knew. Patient. Kind. Too kind, looking back.”
Then say that publicly,” Alexander pressed. “Hold a press conference, Refute Rose’s claims. Tell the world what Camille was really like.”
Stefan laughed bitterly. “And who would believe me? The cheating ex–husband? I’m hardly a credible source.” “You’re the only one who lived with her daily for years,” Alexander countered. “Your testimony carries weight
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precisely
e you have no reason to defend her. Everyone knows she hates you.”
Stefan winced at the blunt assessment. “Thanks for that reminder.”
“I’m not here to spare your feelings,” Alexander said. “I’m here because Camille is being destroyed by lies, and you’re one of the few people who can help stop it.”
Silence fell between them. Stefan drained his glass, setting down with a decisive click.
“What exactly would I need to do?” he asked finally.
Alexander felt a surge of cautious hope. “Hold a press conference. Tomorrow, before the morning shows air that interview with the Lewis parents. Publicly refute every claim Rose has made about Camille’s mental state. Confirm that Rose was always the manipulative one.”
“And admit my role in all this,” Stefan added. “Admit I betrayed a perfectly sane, loving wife for a lie.”
“Yes.”
Stefan moved back to the window, his silhouette dark against the gray afternoon light. “You know what the hardest part of losing everything is? It’s not the money or the status. It’s losing the lies you tell yourself. The stories that let you sleep at night.”
He turned back to Alexander. “I told myself Camille and I were already broken before Rose. That I fell in love with Rose naturally, not because she orchestrated it. That Camille would be fine without me.” His laugh was hollow. All lies.”
Alexander waited, sensing Stefan needed to process this moment in his own way.
“And now,” Stefan continued, “now that I’ve lost it all anyway, those lies don’t protect me anymore. I see everything clearly. Too clearly.” He looked directly at Alexander. “I see what I threw away. What you found.”
The two men studied each other, former rivals now linked by their connection to the same woman.
“If I do this,” Stefan said slowly, “I’m not doing it for you. Or even for Camille, really. She doesn’t need my help to be extraordinary.”
“Why, then?” Alexander asked.
“Because it’s true,” Stefan said simply. “And I’ve told enough lies in my life.” He straightened his shoulders. “I’ll hold your press conference. Tell the world exactly who Rose Lewis is, and wh Camille really was.”
Alexander nodded, relief washing through him. “Thank you”
“Don’t thank me,” Stefan warned. “I’m not doing this to help you win her.”
“That’s not why I’m here.”
“Isn’t it?” Stefan’s eyes were knowing, “You love her. You want to protect her. I understand that drive better than you think ”
Alexander changed tactics. “If you’re going to do this, it needs to be tomorrow morning. Early. Before the Lewis parents‘ interview airs.”
“It will be.” Stefan’s voice strengthened with resolve. “I’ll contact my uncle’s former PR team tonight. Nine AM press conference. Major networks.”
“I can handle the arrangements,” Alexander offered.
“No.” Stefan’s refusal was firm. “If I’m doing this, I’m doing it my way. Not as Alexander Pierce’s puppet.”
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Alexander conceded with a nod “Fair enough. But the timing is crucial.”
“I understand.” Stefan moved to his laptop, already typing “Nine AM. The Rodriguez name still carries enough weight to get media attention, even if our ships don’t sail anymore.”
Alexander took out a business card and placed it on the table. “My private number, Call when it’s arranged.”
As he turned to leave, Stefan’s voice stopped him at the door.
“Pierce. One more thing.”
Alexander looked back questioningly.
“Do you ever wonder,” Stefan asked, “if Camille is using you the way Victoria used her? If beneath all that love you feel, you’re just another chess piece in their revenge game?”
The question cut closer to Alexander’s private doubts than he cared to admit. “Camille isn’t Victoria.”
“No,” Stefan agreed. “But she learned from the master. Just be careful. That’s all.”
Alexander left without responding, the warning echoing in his mind as he descended the shabby stairwell.
Outside, the cool air cleared his head. He had accomplished his mission, Stefan would speak for Camille. Yet he felt unsettled, not just by Stefan’s parting words but by his own confession.
Yes, I’m in love with her.
He hadn’t said those words aloud before, not even to himself. Now they hung in the air, spoken first to her ex- husband of all people. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
His phone rang as he slid into the backseat of his waiting car. Camille’s name flashed on the screen.
“Where have you been?” she asked without preamble. “Victoria said you called it urgent.”
www
Alexander glanced back at Stefan’s apartment building, wondering how to explain what he’d just set in motion. “I’ve been working on a counterattack,” he said carefully. “One that might turn the tide in our favor.” “What kind of counterattack?” Suspicion colored her voice
Alexander made a split–second decision. If Stefan backed out, telling Camille now would only give her false hope.
“I’ll explain everything tonight,” he promised. “For now, just know that by this time tomorrow, Rose’s story will be unraveling ”
There was a pause on the line. “Alexander,” Camille said finally, her voice softening. “Thank you. For fighting for
me.”
The simple gratitude caught him off guard, warming, something in his chest. “Always,” he replied, the word carrying more weight than she knew.
As he ended the call, his driver glanced in the rearview mirror. “Where to, sir?”
Alexander looked out at the Brooklyn streets, seeing not the present but the future, tomorrow’s headlines, Rose’s reactions, Victoria’s calculations. And Camille, caught in the center of it all.
“Back to Manhattan,” he said firmly. “We have a war to win”
Behind him, Stefan Rodriguez stood at his third–floor window, watching Alexander’s car pull away. His expression was unreadable as he picked up his phone and dialed a number he hadn’t used in weeks.
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Chapter 89
“Karen? It’s Stefan Rodriguez. I need to arrange a press conference for tomorrow morning, Nine AM sharp.” He paused, listening. “Yes, it’s about Camille Lewis. And no, this isn’t a joke. It’s about time someone told the truth.”
