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SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 143
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Chapter 143

Rose ran across the motel parking lot, her mind racing faster than her feet. The worn soles of her expensive

shoes slapped against cracked asphalt as panic clawed at her chest. Herod was going to tell the FBI She reached

her car, not her car, really, but one of

Herod's cars. Her hands shook ashe fumbled with the keys. The recorder. The damned recorder he'd shown her.

How long had he been recording their conversations? What exactly had she said? Rose stopped, the key halfway

to the lock.

She couldn't run. Not yet. Not while Herod sat in that motel room with a phone pressed to his ear, her non

his lips, and evidence of her crimes in his pocket.

In the distance, sirens wailed. Still far away, but coming closer.

Rose looked back at Room 17, its faded blue door visible from where she stood. Behind that door sat the man

who

could destroy everything she'd built. Everything she'd sacrificed for.

If he talked, it was over.

If he lived, she was finished.

Rose reached into her bag, her fingers wrapping around the cold metal of the gun she'd bought from one of

Anton Bessonov's men. She'd never fired it. Had never planned to. It was just insurance, protection a rough types

she had to deal with for their plan.

Now it was her only option.

The weight of the weapon felt strange in her hand as she pulled

it from her bag. She'd watched enough movies to know how to hold it, how to aim. But the reality of it, the solid

heaviness of death in her palm, made her stomach turn.

Rose didn't allow herself to hesitate. Hesitation was for weak people. For people like Camille, always looking for

someone else to make decisions for her. Rose wasn't weak. She'd proven that tand again. The sirens grew

louder. Minutes, maybe seconds before they arrived.

She walked back toward Room 17, each step steady despite the storm inside her mind. All those years fighting to

escape the foster

system. All those years pretending to be the perfect adopted daughter. All those

years watching Camille get everything Rose deserved.

She wouldn't let Herod take it all away. Not now. Not when she was so close to winning.

Outside Room 17, Rose paused, listening. Through the thin door, she could hear Herod's voice, the words unclear

but the tone unmistakable. He was telling them. Giving them details. Betraying her. Rose raised the gun, aimed

at the door, and pulled the trigger.

The explosion of sound shocked her. The gun jumped in her hand, the recoil stronger than she expected. A hole

appeared in the cheap wooden door.

Inside, Herod's voice stopped.

Not enough. She couldn't be sure. She fired again.

And again. Three holes now punctured the door, forming a rough triangle.

Silence from inside the room.

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Rose stepped closer, pressed her ear to the door. Nothing. Not even movement.

Had she hit him? Was he dead? Wounded?

She had to know. Had to be sure.

With her left hand, Rose turned the doorknob slowly. The door swung open with a creak.

Herod lay

on the floor near the bed, the phone fallen from his hand. Blood spread across his chest, staining his white shirt

with expanding circles of red. His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, his mouth moving slightly "Rose," he

managed, the nbarely audible.

Successfully unlocked!

She stepped into the room, the gun still raised. You should we betrayed me," she said, her voice steadier than

she felt.

"They'll... know..." His words cbetween shallow breaths.

"They'll know nothing," Rose replied. "By the tthey find you, I'll be gone. And if they cafter me, I'll tell

them you were obsessed with me. That you forcedto help you. That | was afraid for my life."

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Chapter 143

Herod's eyes found hers, filled with a clarity that unnerved her. Even dying, he saw through her. They

wt bebevey "They always believe me, Herod." Rose's finger tightened on the trigger again. "Everyone always

does fmvery convers He tried to reach for the phone that had skittered across the floor. Rose steppe hand,

grinding it under her hed he gasped in pain.

"Where's the recorder?" she demanded.

Herod's eyes closed briefly, then opened again. The ghost of a smile touched his lips "Gone

"Don't lie to me." Rose knelt beside him, keeping the gun aimed at his head while her free hand searched his

pockets. Nothing. "Where is it?"

"Safe." Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth. "Evidence... against you."

Panic surged through Rose again. The sirens were closer

now, maybe only blocks away. "Tellwhere it is, or 13 make your last moments very painful."

Herod's breathing had grown more labored. Each word seemed to cost him tremendous effort. "You can't hurt me

anymore."

Rose stood, aiming the gun directly at his face. "Last chance. Where's the recorder?"

"With... someone... who'll know... what to do..." Herod's voice faded to a whisper. "Charles... would be... proud

Rage exploded in Rose's chest. Even dying, Herod

defied her. Even with a gun pointed at his face, he wouldn't give her what she wanted.

Her finger tightened on the trigger.

The sirens screamed into the parking lot outside, red and blue lights flashing through the thin curtains. Car doors

slammed. Voices shouted commands.

Rose didn't have tfor a clean shot anymore. She needed to run.

She fired once more, the bullet striking the floor beside Herod's head. Not a kill shot, but enough to make her

point. This isn't over," she hissed, then turned and ran for

the bathroom window.

It was small, but Rose was smaller. She forced it open and squeezed through, dropping into the narrow alley

behind the motel. Her car was out front, now blocked by FBI vehicles. She'd have to find another wa Behind her,

shouts cfrom the motel room. They'd found Herod. Soon they'd be looking for her.

Rose ran through the alley, away from the motel, away from the

sirens, away from the man she'd shot but not killed. Her mind raced with possibilities, contingency plans forming

and dissolving with

each step.

Herod might survive. He might tell them everything. But without the recorder, without proof, it would be his word

against hers. And Rose had always been very good at making people believe her.

She'd

need a new identity. New papers. Money. She'd had all of that arranged already, in case their plan went wrong. In

case they needed to disappear after destroying Camille and Victoria Kane. Now she'd use those preparations to

save herself.

Rose slowed to a walk as she reached a busier street. She couldn't look like

she was running. Couldn't draw attention to herself. She smoothed her hair, adjusted her clothing, and

wiped the fear from her face. The gun went back into her bag. hidden beneath a scarf.

A taxi approached. Rose raised her hand, forcing her most charming smile.

"Where to?" the driver asked as she slid into the back seat.

"Bus station," Rose said. "I've got a long journey ahead."

As the taxi pulled away, Rose watched

police cars speed past in the opposite direction. More units responding to the shooting. More people who would

soon be looking for her.

She leaned back against the seat, forcing her breathing

to slow, forcing her mind to focus. This wasn't over. She could still win. She just needed to adapt. To evolve her

plan.

Herod had been a tool. A useful one, but replaceable. She'd find another way to destroy Camille. Another path to

the life that should have been hers all along.

And if Herod lived? If he told them everything?

Rose touched the gun in her bag, her finger tracing its deadly shape through the fabric.

Then she'd just have to silence him permanently. Him and anyone else who stood in her way.

The FBI would be watching airports, train stations, bus terminals. They'd have her photo, her description. But

Rose Lewis had disappeared before. Had becsomeone new. She could do it again.

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Chapter 143

For now, she needed to get out of the city. To vanish until the

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hunt died down. And then, when they least expected it, she would return.

After all, she still had unfinished business with Camille.

Special Agent Diana Chen

crouched beside the bleeding man on the motel room floor. The medical team worked frantically to stabilize him,

their hands moving with practiced efficiency.

"Three gunshot wounds to the chest," one of them reported. "He's losing blood fast

"Can he talk?" Chen asked.

The medic shook his head. "Not now. Maybe not ever."

Chen stood, surveying the room. Three bullet holes in the door. Shell casings on the carpet near the entrance.

Signs of a hasty departure through the bathroom window. "Rose Lewis," said Agent Morgan, joining her. "Room's

registered under her name. Paid cash for three nights."

"She was careless," Chen remarked.

"Or in a hurry." Morgan pointed to the open drawers, clothes strewn about. "They left in a rush. Split up when he

decided to turn himself in.”

"And she decided to shut him up permanently." Chen's eyes fell on the phone on the floor beside the victim.

"Was he still connected when we arrived?"

Morgan nodded. "Call to the FBI tip line. Operator said he

identified himself as Herod Preston, said he

wanted to turn himself in. Then she heard gunshots and the line went dead."

"So she shot him to keep him from talking." Chen

looked at the man being loaded onto a stretcher, an oxygen mask covering his face, IV lines already running into

his arms. "But she failed. He's still alive."

"For now," Morgan said grimly. "Doctor says it's fifty-fifty at best."

Chen watched as the medical team rushed Preston out to the waiting ambulance. "Put guards on him at the

hospital. If he wakes up, | want to be the first person he talks to."

"Already arranged." Morgan handed her an evidence bag containing

a phone. "Found this in his jacket pocket. Tech team's working on it now."

"And the woman? Rose Lewis?"

"APB is out. Every law enforcement agency in the

state is looking for her." Morgan's face hardened. "She won't get far." Chen wasn't so sure. Women like Rose

Lewis, women who could shoot a man three times and still have the presence of mind to escape thr As the team

dispersed to carry out her instructions, Chen stood in the center of the room, trying to read the story written in

blood and bullet holes.

Herod Preston had been ready to confess. To implicate Rose Lewis in the bombings. And she had tried to kill him

for it. What had Preston been about to reveal? What secrets was Rose Lewis willing to kill for? Chen didn't know

yet. But she would find out. And when she did, Rose Lewis would have nowhere left to

hide.

The chase was on.