Chapter 124
Chapter 124
Chapter 124
Camille sat in the back of the town car, watching familiar streets pass by outside the window. Each turn brought her closer to the mansion she had grown up in, the place she had once thought safe until Rose had shattered that illusion forever.
“You’re sure about this?” Victoria asked from beside her.
Camille turned, still surprised that Victoria had insisted on accompanying her to dinner with her parents. She had announced her decision that morning, brooking no argument when Camille had tried to dissuade her.
“I’m not sure about anything where my family is concerned,” Camille admitted. “But my mother has called every week since the press conference. They’ve apologized multiple times. At some point, I have to at least hear them out.”
Victoria’s expression remained neutral, but her eyes held a protective wariness. “Apologies are easy. Changed behavior is what matters.”
The car slowed as they approached the Lewis estate, an imposing limestone mansion set back from the street behind ornate iron gates. Lights glowed behind curtained windows, warm and inviting. Yet Camille’s stomach tightened with each passing second.
“They don’t know you’re coming,” she reminded Victoria.
A small, almost mischievous smile curved Victoria’s lips. “I know. Consider it a test of their sincerity.”
The gates opened automatically, recognizing the car Camille had registered with security. They rolled up the circular driveway, stopping at the front entrance where light spilled onto marble steps.
The butler, Harrison, opened the door before they could ring the bell. His eyes widened slightly at the sight of Victoria but his professional training prevailed.
“Miss Camille,” he greeted with a slight bow. “Ms. Kane. Please come in. Mr. and Mrs. Lewis are in the drawing room.”
They followed Harrison through the grand foyer with its sweeping staircase and crystal chandelier. Camille caught sight of the family portrait above the fireplace, showing her at sixteen with her parents. Rose was noticeably absent, one of the few family images that hadn’t included her adopted sister.
Harrison announced their arrival. “Miss Camille and Ms. Victoria Kane.”
Her parents rose from their seats, faces showing the progression of joy at seeing Camille followed by stunned surprise at Victoria’s presence.
“Victoria Kane,” her mother said, recovering quickly. “What an unexpected pleasure.”
“I hope I’m not imposing,” Victoria replied smoothly. “Camille means a great deal to me. I wanted to meet the people who raised her.”
The undercurrent in Victoria’s words was unmistakable, she was here to evaluate, to judge, to protect.
“Not imposing at all,” Richard insisted, signaling to Harrison. “Please, both of you, make yourselves comfortable. Harrison, inform Mrs. Martha we’ll have an additional guest for dinner.”
The drawing room looked exactly as Camille remembered, yet somehow smaller. The antique furniture, the grand piano where she had practiced for countless hours, the rare first editions her father collected, all unchanged, yet all different through her now–experienced eyes.
“A drink before dinner?” Richard offered, gesturing to the uniformed server who had appeared with a silver tray.
“Water is fine for me,” Victoria said. “I never mix alcohol with business, and I consider tonight business.”
Margaret’s smile tightened. “And what business might that be, Ms. Kane?”
“The wellbeing of your daughter,” Victoria replied without hesitation.
An awkward silence fell. Camille took a seat on the brocade sofa, Victoria beside her, her parents opposite them. The physical arrangement underscored the new reality, Camille and Victoria as a unit, her parents across the divide.
“Have you heard from Rose?” Camille asked, the question escaping before she could stop it.
Richard shook his head. “Not since the day after your press conference with Alexander Pierce. She called, furious, accusing
us of betraying her. When we refused to take her side, she said we were dead to her.”
“Ironic,” Victoria observed coolly, “considering what she tried to do to Camille.”
Margaret flinched visibly. “We had no idea she had arranged that attack. You have to believe that.”
“What I believe,” Victoria replied, “is that you chose not to see many things about your adopted daughter. Just as you chose
not to see the truth when Camille tried to tell you about her husband’s betrayal with Rose.”
The bluntness of Victoria’s words landed like physical blows. The server who had entered with drinks quietly retreated,
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believe her. Because admitting the truth meant facing our own blindness.”
She reached across the coffee table, her hand extended tentatively toward Camille. “We cannot undo that damage. But we can acknowledge it. And try to do better, if you’ll let us.”
Camille stared at her mother’s outstretched hand, the hand that had once dried her childhood tears, that had later pushed her away when she needed support most. After a long moment, she placed her own hand briefly in her mother’s before withdrawing it.
Harrison appeared at the doorway. “Dinner is served, madam.”
The dining room gleamed with silver and crystal. A maid stood ready by the ornate sideboard, another waited to serve the wine. Four places had been set, though Harrison was already signaling for a fifth setting to be prepared at Victoria’s place. The meal began awkwardly, the weight of unspoken words making the excellent food taste like ash in Camille’s mouth. Victoria maintained a regal posture beside her, more observer than participant in the stilted small talk that passed for conversation.
Halfway through the main course, Richard dismissed the servants with a wave. When the last one had left, closing the door behind them, he set down his fork with unexpected force.
“This isn’t working,” he said bluntly. “We’re dancing around everything that matters.”
Margaret looked alarmed. “Richard, please…”
“No, it’s time for honesty.” He turned to Camille, his eyes meeting hers directly. “We were wrong. Not just about Rose and Stefan, but about everything. About who you were, what you needed from us, the support we failed to give you.”
He glanced at Victoria, something like grudging respect in his expression. “Ms. Kane has done what we should have done, stood by you, believed in you, helped you become the remarkable woman you now are.”
Victoria inclined her head slightly, accepting the acknowledgment without comment.
“When you disappeared,” Richard continued, “when we thought you were dead, the grief nearly destroyed us. Not just grief for your loss, but for all the ways we had failed you while you were with us.”
Margaret reached for her husband’s hand. “We don’t expect forgiveness, Camille. We haven’t earned it. But we want you to know that our door is always open to you. On whatever terms you set.”
Camille felt tears threatening and fought them back. This was what she had wanted for so long, acknowledgment, apology, the possibility of healing. Yet now that it was offered, she found herself uncertain how to respond.
“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “Part of me wants to forgive you instantly and pretend none of it happened. Another part isn’t ready to trust again.”
“Then don’t decide now,” Victoria said, surprising everyone. “Healing doesn’t happen in a single dinner. It takes time.. Consistent effort. Proof.”
Richard nodded slowly. “That’s fair. More than fair.”
Harrison entered with barely a sound. “Mr. Pierce has arrived, sir.”
“Send him in,” Richard instructed, though tension showed in his eyes.
Alexander entered the dining room moments later, looking impeccable as always, though surprise flickered across his face at finding Victoria present.
“Alexander,” Victoria greeted him with a small nod. “Perfect timing. We’ve just finished dinner.”
He recovered quickly, professional mask sliding into place. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all,” Margaret assured him. “Would you like some dessert?”
“Thank you, but we should probably get going,” Alexander replied, sensing the charged atmosphere. “Camille has an early meeting tomorrow.”
Camille stood, grateful for the escape route. “Yes, the final Grid inspection before next week’s full activation.”
Margaret’s face fell slightly, but she nodded. “Of course. Your work is important.”
An awkward silence fell as they gathered in the entrance hall. Harrison held Camille’s coat while a maid retrieved Victoria’s
wrap.
“Thank you for dinner,” Camille said finally. “It was… good to see you both.”
Chapter 124
nodded, allowing him to embrace her briefly. His arms felt both familiar and strange, the scent of his aftershave triggering
memories of childhood.
Margaret moved forward next, her eyes asking the same silent question. Camille permitted another quick embrace, more formal than the one with her father.
“We’re proud of you,” her mother whispered. “So proud of who you’ve become.”
Victoria watched the exchanges with an unreadable expression before extending her hand to Richard. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Lewis. Mrs. Lewis.”
The formality of the gesture underscored the vast gulf between Camille’s old life and her new one. Victoria, elegant, powerful, unyielding, stood in stark contrast to the wealthy but flawed parents who had raised her.
As they stepped outside, Alexander’s hand found the small of her back. “Are you alright?” he asked quietly.
“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly.
Victoria moved ahead of them. “Take her home, Alexander,” she instructed as she reached the car. “She’s had quite enough family drama for one evening.”
As they settled into the car, Alexander took Camille’s hand, his fingers intertwining with hers in silent support.
The car pulled away, carrying her from her past toward her future. In the backseat, Camille sat between the two pillars of her new life, Victoria on one side, Alexander on the other. Behind them, the mansion of her childhood grew smaller in the distance, neither fully reconciled nor fully abandoned.
Progress and wounds. Beginnings and endings. The evening had offered both, leaving Camille suspended between what had been and what might yet be.
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