Chapter 112
Chapter 112
Morning light streamed through Victoria’s office windows, turning the silver in her hair to platinum. She stood at the head of the conference table, reviewing the Phoenix Grid’s reports.
“Power distribution remains stable,” she noted, flipping through papers with practiced efficiency. “No anomalies detected overnight.”
Camille watched from across the table, noticing something off about Victoria. Her normally flawless complexion had a grayish tinge, and faint shadows underlined her eyes.
“Are you feeling alright?” Camille asked quietly while Alexander studied technical readouts beside her.
Victoria dismissed the question with a sharp wave. “I’m fine. Let’s focus on Section B. The activation is scheduled for noon.” Alexander glanced up. “My security team reports no suspicious activity. If Rose and Herod are planning something, they’re being extraordinarily careful.”
Victoria nodded, but the movement seemed to throw her off balance momentarily. She steadied herself against the table so quickly that Camille wondered if she’d imagined it.
“Hannah’s team has implemented additional safeguards,” Victoria continued, her voice slightly thinner than usual. “Any attempt to interfere with the Grid’s operation will trigger immediate…”
She stopped mid–sentence, her hand going to her temple.
“Victoria?” Camille half–rose from her chair.
“As I was saying,” Victoria pushed on, her words more deliberate now, “any attempt to interfere will trigger immediate… immediate…”
The pen slipped from her fingers, clattering against the polished table. Victoria stared at it with mild surprise, as if she couldn’t quite understand what had happened.
“I think perhaps I should…” she murmured, and then her legs simply gave way.
Alexander moved with startling speed, catching Victoria before she hit the floor. Her body went limp in his arms, her head rolling back unnaturally.
“Victoria!” Camille rushed around the table, dropping to her knees beside them. “Victoria, can you hear me?”
Victoria’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and confused. “Something’s wrong,” she whispered, the admission seeming to cost her terribly.
Alexander already had his phone out, barking orders for medical assistance. Camille pressed her fingers to Victoria’s wrist, feeling the rapid, fluttering pulse.
“Stay with us,” she urged, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Help is coming.”
Victoria’s hand found Camille’s, her grip surprisingly strong. “The Grid,” she managed. “Don’t let them….”
Her eyes rolled back, and her body went rigid before beginning to seize.
“Turn her on her side,” Alexander commanded. “Keep her airways clear.”
The next minutes blurred together. Security personnel burst into the room, followed by a medical team. They pushed Camille and Alexander back, surrounding Victoria with efficient professionalism.
Camille watched, frozen, as they stabilized Victoria and transferred her to a stretcher. The woman who had saved her, shaped her, made her invincible, suddenly human and fragile, her face half–covered by an oxygen mask.
“I’m going with her,” Camille said, already moving toward the door.
Alexander caught her arm. “The helicopter is ready on the roof. It’ll get her to the hospital faster than fighting through city traffic.”
Camille nodded mechanically, following the medical team as they rushed Victoria toward the private elevator. Her mind raced with contradictory thoughts, worry for Victoria warring with concerns about the Grid activation, scheduled in just three hours.
“Go with her,” Alexander said, reading her expression. “I’ll handle Section B and make sure everything proceeds according to plan.”
Camille hesitated, torn between responsibilities. “Rose and Herod…”
“Will still be waiting when Victoria’s stable,” Alexander finished. “She needs you now. Go.”
The elevator doors closed. Camille turned to the stretcher where Victoria lay. She had never seen her mentor look small
before. Even in sleep, Victoria had always maintained a formidable presence. Now, her skin seemed nearly translucent, the
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veins at her temples standing out starkly.
One of the medics checked Victoria’s vital signs. “How long has she been ill?” he asked,
“She isn’t ill,” Camille replied automatically. “She’s never sick.”
The medic exchanged a glance with his colleague that sent ice through Camille’s veins.
The hospital waiting room smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. Camille paced its length for what felt like the hundredth time. Three hours had passed since they’d rushed Victoria through the double doors marked “Authorized Personnel Only”
Her phone buzzed. Alexander. Section B had gone online without incident, exactly as planned. No sign of interference from Rose or Herod. Camille stared at the message, unable to summon relief or satisfaction.
The door at the far end opened, and a doctor approached with a carefully neutral expression.
“Ms. Kane? I’m Dr. Elizabeth Chen.”
Camille straightened. “How is she?”
“Stable for now,” Dr. Chen replied. “We’ve run a series of tests, including blood work and advanced imaging. Would you like. to sit down?”
Camille recognized the tone. It was the same one Victoria had used when explaining why there was no possibility of reconciliation with her old family. The prelude to an unbearable truth.
“Just tell me,” Camille said softly.
Dr. Chen met her gaze directly. “Ms. Kane has pancreatic cancer. It’s advanced, but we’ve caught it at a stage where treatment options are still available. With the right approach, there’s a realistic chance of remission.”
The words hung in the air, still devastating but carrying a thread of hope that Camille hadn’t dared expect. She gripped a nearby chair to steady herself.
“Treatment options?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“A specialized surgical procedure followed by targeted immunotherapy,” Dr. Chen explained. “There’s a new clinical trial showing promising results with cases similar to Ms. Kane’s. It won’t be easy, but she’s otherwise in excellent health, which significantly improves her prospects.”
Camille’s mind raced back through the past weeks. Victoria working later than usual. Meals left half–finished. The slight stiffness in her movements that Camille had attributed to tension over Rose and Herod’s plotting.
“What’s the timeline for treatment?” Camille asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.
“We’d want to begin as soon as possible,” Dr. Chen replied. “The surgery could be scheduled within days, followed by recovery and then immunotherapy. The full course would take several months.”
“Is there family we should contact?”
“I’m her daughter,” Camille said, the words emerging with unexpected certainty. “I’m all the family she
Dr. Chen nodded. “She’s asking for you. She’s heavily sedated, but conscious. Room 718.”
Camille moved through the corridor like a sleepwalker, the doctor’s words cycling through her mind. Cancer. Advanced. A few months.
She paused outside Room 718, drawing a deep breath before pushing the door open.
Victoria lay against white sheets, looking ghostly under the harsh hospital lighting. Gone was the commanding presence that filled boardrooms with a single glance. In its place lay a woman suddenly revealed as mortal, tethered to machines that beeped and hummed.
Her eyes opened as Camille approached the bed.
“I told them… not to tell you yet,” Victoria murmured, her voice raspy. “Wanted to… handle it myself.”
Camille sat carefully on the edge of the bed, taking Victoria’s hand. IV lines snaked from her arm, a stark reminder of her vulnerability.
“How long have you known?” Camille asked.
“Suspected… two weeks,” Victoria admitted. “Confirmed… three days ago.”
Shock jolted through Camille. “Three days? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“The Grid,” Victoria said simply. “Couldn’t… risk distraction. Too important.”
The implication stunned Camille. Victoria had received a cancer diagnosis and said nothing, continuing to fight Rose and Herod’s sabotage as if nothing had changed.
“The doctor mentioned a new treatment,” Camille said, hope threading through her voice. “A surgical procedure and
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immunotherapy. She says there’s a good chance…”
“I know,” Victoria interrupted. “Already… discussed options.”
“So you’ll do it?”
Victoria’s eyes locked with Camille’s, some of her usual strength returning to her gaze. “Yes. But no one… can know. No
one.”
“Victoria, the company needs to…”
“No.” The word came sharp and clear. “If Rose and Herod… learn I’m weakened… they’ll accelerate their plans. Need time… to prepare.”
Camille understood immediately. In business, as in war, any sign of vulnerability would be exploited mercilessly. If word got out that Victoria Kane was hospitalized with cancer, Kane Industries‘ stock would plummet, investors would panic, and their enemies would strike.
“Alexander already knows something’s wrong,” Camille said quietly.
Victoria nodded slightly. “Tell him… the truth. No one else. Not even… the board.”
“The Grid,” Victoria said after a moment. “Section B?”
“Online,” Camille assured her. “Everything worked perfectly. No sign of interference.”
Victoria nodded slightly, satisfaction briefly overtaking the pain in her expression. “Good. But they’ll… still move against us. You must be… ready.”
Even now, lying in a hospital bed, Victoria’s mind remained fixed on the battle ahead.
“Don’t worry about Rose and Herod,” she said. “Alexander and I will handle them. You need to focus on getting better.” Victoria’s lips curved in what might have been a smile. “Will get better… but recovery takes time. Need you to… lead in my
absence.”
Her eyes drifted closed momentarily, then opened with visible effort. “There’s a file… in my personal safe. Combination… Sophia’s birthday. Instructions for… everything. Contingency plans.”
Camille nodded, filing the information away. “I’ll take care of everything until you’re back.”
“I know,” Victoria said, her voice growing fainter as the medication pulled her toward sleep. “That’s why… I chose you.”
A nurse entered quietly, checking Victoria’s vital signs. “She needs to rest now,” she told Camille gently.
Victoria’s hand tightened on Camille’s. “Remember… tell no one,” she murmured, already drifting under the influence of medication.
“I promise,” Camille said softly.
After the nurse left, Camille sat in silence, watching Victoria’s chest rise and fall with each breath. Th
midable woman
who had transformed her from a broken victim into a force to be reckoned with now looked strangely vulnerable against the sterile white sheets.
Her phone vibrated. Alexander, again. She glanced at the screen.
*Need to talk. Urgent. Something’s happening with Kane Industries stock.*
Camille looked from the phone to Victoria’s sleeping face. The battle was still raging, and now she would have to lead it temporarily. Rose and Herod were making their move, just as Victoria had predicted.
She rose quietly and moved to the window, staring out at the city skyline. Somewhere out there, Rose and Herod were celebrating what they thought was their approaching victory, unaware that everything had just changed.
This wasn’t just about revenge anymore. This wasn’t just about the Grid. This was about protecting Victoria’s empire while she fought her private battle, giving her the time she needed to recover and reclaim her place.
Camille texted Alexander back:
*Coming now. Meeting room in the east wing. Will explain everything.*
She returned to Victoria’s bedside, carefully adjusting the blanket over her sleeping form. “I’ll be back soon,” she whispered. “I promise.”
As she walked from the room, Camille straightened her spine, lifted her chin, and schooled her features into the mask of calm authority that Victoria had taught her to wear. There would be time for worry later. Now, she had a war to win.
For Victoria. For herself. For the time they would still have together once this battle
