SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

The sunlight streaming through the windows of the Rodriguez Seattle family estate felt like a mockery to Stefan.

Once, this light had illuminated generations of family success. Now, it merely highlighted the dust Stefan sat

alone in his father's study, nursing a glass of whiskey despite the early hour. The room still smelled of Eduardo's

cigars and leather-

bound books, a scent that had once meant security

and legacy. The carved mahogany desk where his father had taught him to review shipping manifests seemed

smaller now, diminished like everything else in his life.

The sound of tires on gravel jolted him from his stupor. He moved to the window, watching the black town car roll

to a stop. His stomach tightened. His parents were home.

Eduardo Rodriguez emerged first, his once-

commanding posture now slightly stooped. The past weeks had weathered him visibly. He helped Emily from the

car with practiced tenderness, his hand at the small of her back. Stefan's mother looked thinner, her designer

outfit hanging loosely where it once fit perfectly. The Italian retreat meant to shield them from the public

humiliation of their family's downfall had clearly failed to provide sanctuary. Stefan took a long swallow of

whiskey, steeling himself, and strode to the foyer.

"Mother. Father." His voice echoed in the entrance hall.

Emily's eyes found his, hardening instantly. "Where is she? That woman who destroyed us?"

No greeting. No embrace. Stefan expected nothing less.

Eduardo sighed heavily, passing their luggage to the remaining housemaid. "Emily, please. Let's at least sit down

first.”

Stefan led them to the sitting room, once the pride of his mother's decorating prowess. The crystal decanters

caught the light as he poured drinks with shaking hands.

"Camille isn't here," he answered finally. "She has no reason to be."

Emily snatched the glass from his offering hand. “She has every reason! To gloat, to witness our suffering. Isn't

that what she wanted?"

"That's not who she is," Stefan said quietly.

"Who she is," Emily spat, "is a vengeful, manipulative...."

“Enough!” Eduardo's palm struck the side table, rattling the decanters. "Our son betrayed her, Emily. Or have

you conveniently forgotten that part?"

The silence that followed felt volatile. Stefan sank into an armchair, suddenly exhausted.

"The board called an emergency meeting," Eduardo said flatly. "While we were away, they voted to accept Kane

Industries’ offer to purchase our remaining assets." Stefan nodded numbly. "I know."

"You know?" Emily's voice rose. "And you did nothing to stop it?"

"What would you havedo, Mother? The debt they've acquired gives them controlling interest. It was always

going to end this way."

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Emily's face flushed with rage. "This estate has been in the Rodriguez family for four generations! Your great-

grandfather built it with his bare hands after arriving with nothing but determination."

"And | lost it with nothing but arrogance," Stefan finished bitterly.

Eduardo moved to the window, gazing out at the gardens his wife had meticulously designed. "We have three

weeks before we must vacate." The finality of those words hung in the air like smoke.

"I tried to speak with Camille," Stefan admitted. "She wouldn't reconsider."

Emily's laugh was brittle. "Of course she wouldn't! She's Victoria Kane's puppet now. That woman has

orchestrated this entire nightmare."

"No," Stefan said, meeting his mother's gaze directly. "Camille orchestrated this. Victoria gave her the tools, but

the vision was hers."

"And you admire her for it?" Emily's voice dripped with disbelief.

Stefan considered the question. Did he admire Camille for methodically dismantling everything he'd taken for

granted? For revealing herself not as a victim but as an architect of justice? "Yes," he said finally. "I do."

Emily's glass shattered against the wall, amber liquid streaking the custom wallpaper like tears.

"This is what happens when you marry beneath you," she hissed. "I warned you about her. She was never good

enough for this family. No class, just a pretty face with ambition from a rich family." Stefan felt something shift

inside him, a quiet rage replacing the self-

pity he'd wallowed in for weeks.

"Mother," he said slowly, "if anyone wasn't good enough, it was me. Camille gave everything to our marriage

while | treated her as an accessory. She built herself from nothing through hard work and integrity, w Emily

recoiled as if slapped.

"And let's not forget," Stefan continued, "how you fawned over Rose. How you practically pushedinto her

arms with your constant praise of her sophistication, her fashion sense, her social graces." His voice "Don't you

dare blyour mother for your failings," Eduardo interjected, but his reprimand lacked conviction. Stefan

stood, suddenly unable to remain still. “I don't. The blis entirely mine. But | won't let you Emily turned away,

her shoulders rigid. "She's ruined us."

"No, Mother. | ruined us. Rose helped. All Camille did was make us face the consequences."

Eduardo crossed to the bar and refilled his glass. The silence between them stretched painfully before he spoke

again.

"The night before your wedding to

Camille," he said quietly, "I had doubts. Not about her, about you. | wondered if you deserved her devotion." He

took a measured sip. "I should have spoken them aloud."

Stefan felt the unexpected truth of those words like a physical blow.

"We still have the property in Madrid," Eduardo continued 'lt's modest by our standards, but it's paid for Vo

mother and | will go there next week."

"And me?" Stefan asked, though he already knew the answer.

Eduardo's expression was uncharacteristically gentle. "You need to fix this."

"Eduardo!" Emily protested. "There's nothing to fix! That woman has...."

"That woman," Eduardo interrupted firmly, "has shown more backbone than anyone who's ever married into this

family. If our son has any hope of salvaging his future, it lies with her." "She won't takeback," Stefan said.

"I've already tried."

"Of course she won't take

you back,” Eduardo scoffed. "Why would she? But there might be a path to redemption that doesn't involve

reconciliation."

Emily collapsed onto the sofa, burying her face in her hands. "This is a nightmare. My son, begging for scraps

from that woman's table."

"That woman," Stefan said quietly, "has a name. The snshe had when you welcomed her into this

family, before you decided Rose was the superior choice."

Emily's head snapped up, her eyes flashing. "Rose was one of us! She understood our world, our obligations. She

wasn't going to embarrass us at every turn, she doesn't lack refinement."

Stefan stared at his mother, truly seeing her perhaps for the first time. The shallow values, the obsession with

appearances, the brittle pride masquerading as strength. "Rose hired men to kill Camille,"

he said flatly. "Did you know that? She paid them to attack her own sister in a parking garage and make it look

like an accident."

Emily's face drained of color. "You're lying."

"She admitted it. In front of me. She wanted Camille gone so badly she was willing to have her murdered."

Eduardo slumped heavily into a chair. "Dios mio."

"So tellagain, Mother, about Rose's superior refinement."

Emily's mouth opened and closed, no words emerging.

nl

"The irony," Stefan continued, a bitter smile twisting his lips, "is that if Rose had simply waited, she would have

had everything she wanted. | gave Camille divorce papers

on our anniversary and she signed it. | betrayed her, but Rose had to arranged to have her killed."

The weight of this confession seemed to press the oxygen from the room. Eduardo

covered his eyes with one hand, the gesture of a man who could no longer bear to witness his son's disgrace.

"I need you to leave the estate early," Stefan said, surprising himself with the steadiness of his voice. "Both of

you. Take what matters and go to Madrid by the end of the week."

"You're throwing us out?" Emily's voice rose incredulously

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"I'm asking for space to do what needs to be done." Stefan moved to his

father's desk and

pulled out a folder containing papers he'd drafted with his remaining lawyer. I've outlined a plan

to salvage a fraction of our holdings. It won't restore our fortune, but it might preserve something of our legacy."

Eduardo took the folder with a weary nod. "And what will you do?”

Stefan looked out the window at the carefully tended gardens that had surrounded his childhood. Soon, they'd

belong to strangers or, worse, be bulldozed for development. The thought should have devastated "I'm going to

help Camille," he said finally.

"Help her?" Emily sputtered. "Help her do what? Destroy what little we have left?"

"Help her build something worthwhile." Stefan turned back to his parents. "Her Phoenix Foundation, it's going to

help women trapped in abusive relationships, women who've been betrayed by those meant to pr Eduardo

studied his son's face. "And you think she'll accept your help?"

"Probably not. But | have to try."

Emily stood abruptly, smoothing her wrinkled traveling clothes with trembling hands. "I don't recognize you

anymore."

Stefan smiled sadly. "That's because I'm finally becoming someone worth recognizing, Mother."

She turned and left the room without another word, her footsteps echoing on the marble floors.

Eduardo lingered, fatigue etched in every line of his face. "There's a fine

line between atonement and self-

destruction, hijo. Be careful you know which side you're on.

Stefan nodded, watching his father follow his mother upstairs. The house fell silent except for the ticking of the

grandfather clock in the

hallway, counting down the moments of the Rodriguez family's final days in their ancestral home.

He returned to the window, gazing out at the property that had defined him for so long. The

setting sun cast long shadows across the lawn, like fingers reaching for something just beyond grasp.

Tomorrow, he would contact the Phoenix Foundation. Not to beg Camille for forgiveness, he'd attempted that

already and understood its futility. Instead, he would offer the one

thing he had left that might matter: his complete surrender to her cause.

She might reject him. She probably would. But in that rejection, he might find the path to becoming the man he

should have been from the start, a man worthy not of possessing Camille Lewis, but of inhabiting t Stefan lifted

his glass in a silent toast to the dying light. To endings that might, with work and grace, becbeginnings of a

sort.

The grandfather clock struck six, each chreverberating through the empty spaces of the house like a final

countdown. Twas running out for the Rodriguez legacy

But for Stefan himself, perhaps twas just beginning.