Chapter 45

Camille's point of view

Five screens glowed on the wall of Victoria's private office,each displaying a different fashion blog. The headline on Fashion Insider screamed in bold type: "ROSE LEWIS: FASHION'S FEMME FATALE?"Below it, a grainy but unmistakable photo showed Rose entering a London hotel with Jonathan Hayes,her mentor's husband.

Victoria and I sat side by side at her conference table,watching the story unfold in real time. The digital clock on her desk showed 9:07 AM. The story had been live for exactly twelve minutes, and already the view counter showed over three thousand clicks.

"Perfectly timed," Victoria said,satisfaction evident in her voice. "The fashion industry wakes up, checks their morning feeds, and finds their darling exposed."

I nodded, a strange mix of emotions washing through me. Satisfaction, yes. The first real blow against Rose's carefully constructed image. But something else too, something | hadn't expected. A hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. Was this really victory? Releasing photos that had been easy to obtain, evidence of sins that seemed almost trivial compared to what she'd done to me?

"Ms. Kane? Ms. Camille?" My assistant Rebecca knocked before entering, tablet in hand, excitement barely contained. "You wanted updates on the Rose Lewis situation?”

Victoria motioned her forward. "Report."

"The story's spreading faster than projected. It's hit three major fashion blogs in the last five minutes.Social media engagement is exploding." Rebecca handed Victoria the tablet. "Her publicist has already issued two different denial statements, each one contradicting the last."

Victoria's lips curved into a rare smile as she scrolled through the data. "And the hashtag we planted?"

"#RoseThorns is trending in New York and Los Angeles." Rebecca couldn't hide her admiration. "The influencers we prepped are amplifying exactly as planned."

I leaned forward, scanning the social media metrics on the tablet. "Her brand partners?"

"Panicking." Rebecca's smile widened. "Three have already reached out to their legal teams about morality clauses in their contracts."

Victoria handed me the tablet, our eyes meeting briefly. This moment, the first real strike against Rose,was what we'd been building toward for months.

"I want to see her," I said suddenly. "When she gets the news."

Victoria raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous. Unnecessary."

"I'll stay hidden. I just..." I struggled to explain the hunger inside me. "I need to see her face."

Understanding dawned in Victoria's eyes. "Not enough to destroy her. You need to witness it."

"Yes."

She considered for a moment, then nodded."Rebecca,have James position Ms. Kane near the Lewis boutique.The target has an investor meeting there at ten."

Thirty minutes later, I sat in a darkened car across from Rose's flagship store in the Fashion District. Tinted windows ensured no one could see me, but I had a perfect view of the boutique's glass front.

Rose arrivedat 9:50, looking immaculate in a white pantsuit that probably cost more than most people's monthly rent. Her smile for the waiting paparazzi showed no sign that her world was beginning to unravel.

Then I saw it. The moment her assistant rushed out,phone extended urgently. The slight freeze in Rose's perfect posture..The fractional widening of her eyes as she looked at the screen.

Even from this distance,I could read the shock in her body language. The momentary loss of control as her practiced mask slipped.

The waiting photographers noticed too, cameras suddenly firing rapidly, capturing her unguarded reaction. Her hand clutched her assistant's arm for balance. Her mouth opened slightly before snapping shut.

For ten glorious seconds, I watched genuine panic overtake my sister's face. Then, like the performer she'd always been, she recovered. Smiled tightly.Waved off the photographers. Walked into her boutique with practiced grace.

But I'd seen it. That moment of pure, unfiltered fear.That instant where her carefully constructed world began to crumble.

It tasted like honey on my tongue.

Back at Kane Industries, Victoria and I tracked the story's spread through more mainstream media. By noon,three major fashion magazines had picked it up.By two,entertainment news sites were running special features on "Fashion's Own Scandal." By four, Rose's Instagram comments had become so toxic she'd disabled them.

"Initial estimates show a twelve percent drop in her online sales today," Victoria noted, reviewing the latest analytics. "Two minor influencers have already canceled promotional posts with her brand."

I nodded,scanning the reports. "And the investors?"

"Postponed their meeting. Waiting to see how bad the damage gets."

Victory. Clear and undeniable. The first true strike in my campaign against Rose.

So why did part of me still feel empty?

I dismissed the feeling, focusing instead on the next phase. "When do we release the Russian connection?"

Victoria consulted her watch. "Three days. Let this first scandal fully develop before introducing the next.Maximum damage occurs when people are just beginning to recover from one blow before receiving another."

Her cold precision should have bothered me.Once,it would have. Now I found comfort in her tactical approach,her emotional detachment.It made my own conflicted feelings easier to ignore.

My phone buzzed with a text message.I glanced down,expecting another update from our media team.

Instead, Alexander Pierce's name lit up my screen:*Watching your sister's meltdown on Page Six live updates. Remind me never to cross you, little phoenix.Though I must say, hotel security footage seems beneath your creative talents. Looking forward to what you do next.-A*

Heat crept up my neck as I quickly darkened the phone screen. How had he known? We'd been so careful, ensuring no connection between Kane Industries and the leaked photos.

Victoria's sharp eyes missed nothing. "Problem?"

"No," I replied, too quickly. "Just a market update."

Her gaze lingered a moment too long, assessing,calculating, before she returned to the reports."Tomorrow we'll monitor the fallout and prepare for phase two. The British lord's ex-wife has provided some...exceptionally detailed revelations."

I nodded, trying to focus on Victoria's words while my mind kept returning to Alexander's message. Little phoenix. The nickname no one else used.The teasing tone that somehow acknowledged both my strength and my vulnerability.

And the unsettling realization that he knew what I was doing.

Later, alone in my suite, I stared at his message again.Should I respond? Ignore it? Report this development to Victoria?

My finger hovered over the delete button. Alexander Pierce was dangerous, too perceptive, too knowledgeable, too interested in my affairs. Victoria would see him as a threat to our plans.

But something in his teasing words resonated with the emptiness I'd felt even as I'd watched Rose's world begin to crumble.

Without quite deciding to, I typed a response:*Quality improves with the next release. Though I'm curious how you identified my handiwork.*

His reply came almost instantly: *The same way I know when a master painter has created a new work. The technique is unmistakable, even with different brushes.Sleep well,avenger. Tomorrow brings new battles.*

I turned off my phone, moving to the window that overlooked Victoria's immaculate gardens. Tomorrow would bring more scandal for Rose, more destruction of her carefully built world.

But tonight, for the first time since beginning this path of revenge, I found myself wondering if victory was supposed to feel this empty. If becoming like those who had hurt me was truly the justice I sought.

I touched the phoenix pendant at my throat, Victoria's symbol of rebirth through fire.

What kind of person was I becoming in these flames?

And would I recognize myself when the transformation was complete?