Chapter 135
Chapter 135:
The Kane Industries private meeting room felt too small for the four people inside. Camille sat at the head of the polished table, Victoria to her right, and Alexander to her left. Stefan Rodriguez stood awkwardly near the door, unsure whether to step further in or keep his escape route within reach.
“Sit, Mr. Rodriguez,” Victoria said, her voice as cold as winter. “You requested this meeting. Let’s not waste time.”
Stefan lowered himself into a chair at the far end of the table. His once confident posture had disappeared, his shoulders curving inward as if he were carrying an invisible weight.
“Thank you for seeing me,” he said, his voice rougher than Camille remembered. “I know I’m the last person you want to hear from.”
“Second to last,” Victoria corrected. “Your former lover ranks below you.”
Stefan flinched.
“That’s why I’m here. I want to help stop Rose—and Preston.” Alexander’s jaw tightened, his hand moving slightly closer to Camille’s on the table.
“And why would we need your help?” he asked.
“Because I know Rose,” Stefan replied, looking directly at Camille. “I know how she thinks. I lived with her lies. I watched her manipulate everyone. Now that I see her clearly, I can tell you things that might help protect the Grid… and protect you.”
Camille felt Alexander stiffen beside her. The subtle shift in his posture and the almost imperceptible narrowing of his eyes were signs of jealousy she recognized all too well.
“We’re already aware of the Grid sabotage,” Camille said, keeping her tone neutral. “Our engineers are correcting it.”
“It’s more than that,” Stefan leaned forward. “Rose doesn’t just want to damage the Grid. She wants to destroy you, Camille. Completely. And she has… patterns. Weaknesses in how she thinks.”
Victoria’s nails tapped against the tabletop. “Such as?”
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“She needs to witness her victories,” Stefan said quickly. “It’s never enough for Rose to know she’s hurt someone. She has to see it happen. Watch their face when they realize they’ve lost.”
Camille felt a chill race down her spine. Stefan was right. She remembered Rose’s eyes on her the day she’d discovered the divorce papers—the hungry gleam in them as she watched Camille’s world collapse.
“Go on,” Camille said quietly.
Alexander shifted, his shoulder brushing against hers. His posture remained protective, but something in his expression had changed—a reluctant recognition of the truth in Stefan’s words.
“Rose has a fixation with control,” Stefan continued. “She needs to believe she’s the smartest person in the room. When something happens that she didn’t plan, she panics. Overreacts.” He rubbed his jaw. “Sometimes violently.”
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