Camille’s point of view
The private investigation office smelled of coffee and secrets. I sat across from Martin Wells, retired NYPD detective turned high–end investigator, watching him spreid photos across his desk like playing cards.
“Four affairs during her time in London,” he said, tapping grainy Image of Rose entering a hotel with a man who wasn’t Stefan. “Two with married executives. One with a British lord. One with her fashion mentor’s husband.
Something cold settled in my stomach as I picked up the photo, Rose, laughing, hand tucked possessively into the arm of a silver–haired man twenty years her senior. The timestamp showed a date just three weeks after I’d married Stefan
“You’re certain these are authentic?” I kept my voice steady, professional. Victoria had taught me never to show emotion during business dealings, even when the business was revenge.
Wells nodded, sliding more photos toward me. “Verified by three different sources. Ms Lewis was… busy during her fashion apprenticeship.”
And these men? They’ll confirm the relationships if approached?”
“Two already have.” Wells handed me a flash drive. “Recorded statements. Nothing explicitly naming her, but enough detail to make identification obvious. The British lord refused comment, but his ex–wife was quite forthcoming about why their marriage ended.”
I studied another photo, Rose leaving a London apartment at dawn, still wearing evening clothes from the night before. The man in the doorway behind her was recognizable as Jonathan Hayes, whose wife had owned the fashion house where Rose worked.
“Mrs. Hayes fired her a week after this was taken,” Wells commented. “Publicly claimed it was due to ‘creative differences.‘ Privately told friends it was for sleeping with her husband.”
The revelation shouldn’t have surprised me. Rose had always taken what she wanted, regardless of who got hurt. Yet seeing actual evidence of her betrayals while I had remained loyal to Stefan sent a wave of disgust through me. “What about these rumors regarding missing designs?” I pushed another file toward him.
Wells grimaced. “Harder to prove, but multiple sources confirm Rose borrowed‘ design concepts from other. apprentices. Three designs she claimed as her own match sketches that mysteriously disappeared from colleagues.
workstations.”
The pattern was so familiar it made my chest ache. Rose had been doing this her entire life, stealing others‘ work, others‘ relationships, others‘ chances. Only now did I see how systematic it had been.
“And her time after London? The gap year before she returned to New York?”
Wells hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “That’s where things get… complicated. She claimed to be studying in Paris, but we can only place her there for three months. After that, she surfaces in Monaco,”
He slid across several photos that made my breath catch. Rose, barely recognizable with platinum blonde hair, hanging on the arm of an older man whose face had been splashed across enough tabloids to be instantly familiar.
“Anton Bessonov. Russian businessman with questionable connections. Under investigation in three countries for money laundering”
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Chapter 44
I stared at my sister’s face in the photo. The calculating look in her eyes. The practiced smile. The careful positioning to ensure her best angle was captured.
“How long?”
“Six months. She lived on his yacht. Traveled with him to seven countries. Then disappeared from his life just as news of the international investigation broke.”
Another photo showed Rose back in Paris, hair returned to its natural color, shopping at exclusive boutiques. The timestamp indicated just two weeks before she’d returned to New York, before she’d reconnected with Stefan.
Before my life had begun unraveling.
“Financial records?” I asked, my mouth dry.
Wells nodded, pulling out bank statements. “Substantial deposits during the Bessonov period. Moved through three different shell companies before landing in her main account. Classic laundering pattern.”
I sat back, letting this new information settle. Rose, my perfect, polished sister, had been a kept woman for a suspected criminal. Had potentially helped launder money, Had certainly been unfaithful to Stefan before they’d even officially begun their relationship.
“We’ve compiled everything into a comprehensive dossier, Wells handed me a thick envelope. “Photos, statements, financial records, timeline. Everything, verified by multiple sources.”
I nodded, clutching the envelope that held my sister’s secret life. “The second payment will be transferred today. Thank you for your discretion.”
“Ms. Kane.” Wells hesitated as I stood to leave. “Forgive me for asking, but why dig into Rose Lewis’s past? What does Kane Industries gain from this information?”
For a moment, I considered telling him the truth. That I wasn’t just Camille Kane, Victoria’s heir. That the woman in those photos had stolen my husband, possibly arranged my “death,” certainly destroyed my life.
Instead, I gave him the practiced smile I’d perfected over the past year. “Due diligence, Mr. Wells. We investigate all potential business partners thoroughly.”
Outside in my waiting car, I finally allowed myself to process what I’d learned. The envelope sat heavy on my lap, filled with evidence of Rose’s true nature. All those years I’d believed myself lacking compared to her. All those times I’d wondered why people chose her, preferred her, loved her more.
Now I understood. Rose hadn’t been better, she’d simply been willing to do things I never would. Lie. Cheat. Steal. Betray. Sleep her way to opportunity.
My phone buzzed Victoria checking on my progress.
“Evidence collected? Her message was typically direct.
“Yes. More than expected. I replied, fingers hovering over the keys before adding: She’s worse than we thought.
Victoria’s response came immediately: “Perfect. Phase two begins tomorrow. Release the first photo to that fashion blogger who hates her.”
I stared at the message, something uncomfortable stirring beneath my satisfaction. This was what I wanted, Wasn’t it? To expose Rose’s lies? To destroy her reputation just as she’d destroyed mine?
Yet part of me wondered what it said about me that I was now using the same tactics Rose had always employed. Manipulation Secrets. Revenge
Was I becoming just like her in my quest to destroy her?
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The car stopped at a red light, and I caught my reflection in the window. The face looking back was still strange to me sometimes, sharper cheekbones, more defined jawline, eyes harder than they’d once been. Victoria’s creation. The perfect instrument of revenge.
But whose revenge, really? Hers or mine? And when it was over, who would I be?
The light changed, and the car moved forward, leaving these questions answered. I opened the envelope again, spreading the photos across my lap. Rose’s secret life. Rose’s hidden scandals. Rose’s true nature captured in glossy 5×108
By this time tomorrow, the first domino would fall. The perfect image she’d constructed would begin to crack. The world would start to see what I’d always suspected beneath her polished exterior.
I should have felt only satisfaction. Instead, a strange mix of emotions churned inside me, vindication, yes, but also sadness for the sister I’d once thought I had. The family I’d believed in. The love I’d trusted.
All lies.
My phone buzzed again, not Victoria this time, but Alexander.
Hunting tonight?* His message asked, our code for discussing my revenge plans.
1 hesitated before replying: *Found the prey’s weakness. Preparing the first strike.*
His response made me pause: *Remember who you are beneath the hunter’s clothes.*
Who was I beneath this new identity? Beneath the surgical alterations, the designer clothes, the careful training? Was anything left of the woman who had loved so openly, trusted so completely?
I gathered the photos, returning them to the envelope. Tomorrow they would become weapons in my war against Rose. Tonight, they were just reminders of how thoroughly I’d been deceived.
By my sister. By my husband. By my parents.
The car turned onto the private road leading to Victoria’s estate. Through the trees, lights glowed welcome in the gathering dusk. My new home. My new life.
I touched the phoenix pendant at my throat, Victoria’s gift symbolizing rebirth through fire.
“Hunting tonight?” James asked as he opened my car door, using Alexander’s phrase with different meaning.
I nodded, clutching the envelope of secrets. “Yes. And tomorrow, the hunt goes public.”
As I walked toward the house, I felt the weight of my choices pressing down. The evidence I’d gathered would destroy Rose piece by piece, just as she’d done to me. Would expose her lies just as she’d exposed my vulnerabilities.
It was justice, I told myself. Not revenge. Justice for years of manipulation. For stolen opportunities. For a life taken without remorse.
So why did victory already taste like ashes in my mouth?
Because deep down, beneath Victoria’s careful programming; beneath the hunger for revenge, a small voice whispered an uncomfortable truth: in destroying Rose this way, I was becoming what I hated most about her.
1 pushed the thought away, squaring my shoulders as I entered the house. Tomorrow would bring the first public blow against Rose’s carefully constructed image. The first crack in her perfect life.
Chapter 44
And nothing, not even my own doubts, would stop what I’d set in motion.
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