SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Rain lashed against the penthouse windows, matching the storm brewing inside. Rose stared at Stefan across

the living room, his posture rigid as he clutched his phone in a white knuckled grip. The text messa "That's the

third cancellation today," Rose said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Bergdorf claims 'brand association

concerns. As if they've suddenly developed a moral conscience."

Stefan didn't look up. "Did you sleep with him too?"

"What?"

"The Bergdorf buyer." His voice held a coldness she'd never heard before. "Did you sleep with him like you did

with Jonathan Hayes? Like you did with Lord Hartley? Like you apparently did with half of London Rose flinched as

if he'd slapped her. "That's not fair."

"Fair?" Stefan finally looked up, eyes red-

rimmed from lack of sleep. “The photos are everywhere, Rose. The financial records linking you to Bessonov. The

evidence keeps piling up, and every t| think I've seen the worst, something new emerges.” She moved to

the bar, pouring herself a drink with hands that trembled slightly. Three weeks since the first scandal photos had

emerged. Three weeks of constant new revelations, each one more damaging tha "Those photos are from years

ago," she said, the defense sounding weak even to her own ears. "Before us. Before...

"Before us?" Stefan laughed, a harsh sound devoid of humor. "The timestamps, Rose. Did you think no one would

notice the timestamps? You were on that yacht with Bessonby the sweek you calledfrom 'Paris' to say

how much you missed me. The smonth you toldyou were focusing on your fashion education."

Rose drained her glass, the alcohol burning a path down her throat. Outside, lightning flashed, briefly

illuminating the rain- drenched city below.

"Everyone has a past," she tried again. "Things they're not proud of. Things they'd rather forget."

"A past is one thing. Lies are another." Stefan moved to the window, putting distance between them. "I could

have accepted mistakes, Rose. | could have understood poor choices. What | can't accept is that eve The truth of

his words stung more than she wanted to admit. Her entire life had been a series of careful calculations,

strategic moves to achieve the position, the power, the prestige she'd always craved. "That's not true," she said,

voice smaller than intended. "My feelings for you were real. Are real "

"Were they?" He turned to face her again. "Or was | just part of your plan? A stepping stone to the life you

wanted? The sway my company was a stepping stone for your fashion line's shipping needs?" Rose set

down her glass with more force than necessary, "That's not fair. My business success cfrom talent, from

hard work, from..."

"From sleeping with your mentor's husband to steal design concepts?" Stefan cut in. "From using Bessonov's

money to fund your first collection? From manipulating fashion editors into featuring your work?" Each

accusation Landed like a physical blow. All the carefully hidden truths, all the meticulously buried secrets,

exposed for everyone to see. For Stefan to see

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"You

don't understand,” she said, desperation creeping into her voice. "I did what | had to do. Coming from nothing,

having nothing you can't judgefor fighting my way up."

"Coming from nothing?" Stefan's expression shifted from anger to confusion. "Your parents are wealthy. You grew

up with every advantage."

Rose froze, realizing her mistake too late. Another calculation error in a month filled with them. Another slip that

revealed more than intended.

"I meant... professionally," she backtracked quickly. "In the fashion world, no one takes you seriously without the

right connections. | had to make my own way."

Stefan studied her, suspicion replacing confusion. "You've never talked about your life before the Lewises

adopted you. Not once in all the years I've known you."

Because it doesn't matter." Rose turned away, reaching for the bottle again. "That was a different life. A different

person."

"Was it?” Stefan moved closer, his voice softening dangerously. "Or is this just another story you've constructed?

Another manipulation to get what you want?"

Rose's hand tightened around her glass. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I think I'm finally starting to." He picked up his phone again, swiping through more headlines about her

scandals. "All these photos. All these stories. They're not just about affairs or business dealings. They're s "And

who is that?" she demanded, anger flaring to mask the fear beneath.

"Someone who takes what she wants, regardless of who gets hurt." Stefan's voice was steady now, his initial

rage" cooling into something more dangerous, clarity. "Someone who sees people as stepping stone so long

she's forgotten there was ever anything genuine underneath."

The assessment hit too close to truth. Rose switched tactics,

moving toward him with practiced vulnerability, eyes softening in the way she knew had always worked on

him before.

"Stefan, please. This is all just a misunderstanding. A smear campaign by someone who wants to destroy me.

Destroy us." She reached for his hand. "We can get through this together. Save both our businesses, Show

everyone they can't tear us apart."

He pulled away from her touch. "That's just it, Rose. | don't think there's an 'us' to save. I'm not sure there ever

The rejection staggered her. Stefan had always been her safety net. Her sure thing. The man who would stand by

her no matter what, who had carried a torch for her even through his marriage to Camille. "You don't mean that,"

she whispered.

"I wish | didn't." He ran a hand through his disheveled hair. "You know what keepsawake at night? Not the

company collapsing. Not my father's disappointment. It's thinking about how | treated Camille. How | was cold to

her, distant, always comparing her to sidealized version of you I'd created in my head."

Rose felt the conversation sliding into dangerous territory, Camille is gone, Stefan. We've both mourned her.

This isn't about her."

"Isn't it?" His eyes

locked with hers. "I left a good woman who lovedgenuinely for... what? The fantasy of you I'd been carrying

since college? A woman who doesn't actually exist?"

"Lexist." Rose snapped, anger sparking again "Tim standing right here, fighting for us while you throw away

everything we've built because of sold photos, sbusiness mistakes..

"It's not about the photos!" Stefan's voice rose, startling lar into silence. "It's about the pattern they reveal. It's

about realizing that the woman I've spent years pining for is a construction. A carefully calculated im "That's not

true," she insisted, but the protest sounded hollow even to her own ears,

"Isn't it?"

Stefan picked up the society pages from the coffee table, where their engagement photo had once been

prominently featured. Now replaced by coverage of her scandals and his company's financial troubles. “T "I love

you," she said finally, voice small. "That's real."

Stefan studied her face for a long moment. "Maybe you do. In your way. But | don't think your

version of love looks anything like mine."

He moved toward the door, picking up the overnight bag he'd packed earlier. The sight sent panic coursing

through Rose's veins.

Where are you going?" she demanded.

"My family's estate. Father thinks we need to present a united front during the company crisis." Stefan's voice

was flat, emotionless. "But the truth is, | need space to think. About the business. About us. About w Rose moved

quickly, blocking his path to the door. "You can't leave. Not now. Not when both our businesses are under attack.

Don't you see? Someone is targeting us. The sperson who's going after your "Maybe." Stefan gently moved

her aside. "But right now, I'm not sure | know who I'd be standing with."

The words cut deeper than any accusation about her past. For years, Rose had maintained perfect control over

how others perceived her. Had crafted an image so flawless, so compelling that even her indiscre Now that

carefully constructed fagade was crumbling, reveing the emptiness beneath. And for the first tin her adult

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life, Rose felt real fear.

Not fear of financial ruin, though that loomed ever larger with each canceled order. Not fear of social humiliation,

though the society pages now painted her as a pariah rather than a darling.

But fear of losing the one person who had wanted her, or at least, the version of her she'd presented,

consistently for years. The one person whose devotion she'd counted on as a constant in her calculated rise

"Stefan, please." She abandoned pride, abandoned calculation, abandoned the careful masks she'd worn for so

Jong "I need you."

He paused at the door, his back to her. For a moment, hope flared in her chest. Then he spoke, voice quiet but

firm.

"The problem is, Rose, | don't think you need anyone. Not really, Not in any way that matters."

The door closed behind him with a soft click that somehow hurt more than if he'd slammed it. Rose stood frozen

in the entryway, the sound of rain against windows the only noise in the suddenly empty penthou Her phone

buzzed on the coffee table, another news alert, no doubt. Another scandal unearthed. Another piece of her

carefully constructed life exposed for all to see.

She moved to the window instead, watching Stefan emerge from the building below, overnight bag in hand. Even

from this height, she could see the slump of his shoulders, the defeat in his posture as he climbe Something

tightened in her chest, an unfamiliar ache she couldn't immediately identify. Was this what real pain felt like? Not

the calculated shows of emotion she'd performed throughout her life, but genuine los The irony wasn't lost on

her. After years of taking what she wanted, of manipulating situations and people to achieve her goals, she

might have finally developed genuine feelings for Stefan just in tto lose hi place despite the emotional storm

that had just torn through the apartment. The perfect exterior hiding the growing panic beneath.

Her phone buzzed again. This tshe picked it up, expecting, another media alert about her scandals. Instead,

a new headline made her blood run cold:

"TECH TRILLIONAIRE ALEXANDER PIERCE AND KANE HEIRESS CAMILLE: POWER COUPLE IN THE MAKING?"

Below it, photos from a charity gala showed the notoriously private Alexander Pierce placing a diamond necklace

around the neck of Victoria Kane's mysterious adopted daughter. The woman looked radiant, ge Rose stared at

the image, something nagging at the edges of her consciousness. Something about the woman's profile, about

the way she tilted her head slightly as Pierce caned close. Something hauntingly familiar that she couldn't quite

place.

As she studied the photo, her mind racing to identify the sense of recognition, another alert appeared. Her

fashion line's main manufacturing partner had just pulled out of their contract, citing "irreparable brand The final

nail in her professional coffin.

Rose sank onto the sofa,

phone still clutched in her hand, the rain lashing the windows matching the storm inside her. Everything she'd

built, everything she'd schemed for, everything she'd sacrificed others to achieve, all crumbling arou And for the

first tin her carefully calculated life, Rose Lewis had no contingency plan.