Chapter 151
Chapter 151:
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 was won.
Victoria Kane sat propped against white hospital pillows, her silver hair swept back from her face in a neat chignon. Even in a hospital gown, connected to monitors that beeped rhythmically in the background, she maintained an air of command. The room, the hospital’s finest private suite, had been transformed with fresh flowers, silk sheets from her home, and a mahogany lap desk balanced across her knees.
Her lawyer, Frederick Winters, a man who had served the Kane family for years, sat in an armchair beside the bed. His silver-rimmed glasses caught the afternoon light as he arranged documents with practiced precision.
“You’re certain about this?” he asked, his voice low and measured. “The board will have questions.”
Victoria’s mouth thinned. “The board’s questions are not my concern, Frederick. My decision is final.”
The door opened, and Camille entered, dressed in a tailored navy suit that Victoria recognized as one she had selected for her. Their eyes met, an understanding passing between them. Victoria gestured to the chair on the opposite side of her bed.
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“Good, you’re here. We can begin.”
Camille glanced at Frederick, then back to Victoria. “Begin what?”
“Updating my will,” Victoria answered matter-of-factly. “Please, sit.”
Camille lowered herself into the chair, her movements careful, as if the ground beneath her might suddenly give way. For the past two days, she had been splitting her time between the hospital and Kane Industries, maintaining the fiction that Victoria was simply working remotely while recovering from exhaustion. Only Alexander knew the truth—that Victoria was fighting for her life, with surgery scheduled for the following morning.
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