Chapter 154
Chapter 154:
Frederick collected the documents, slipping them into his briefcase. “I’ll file these immediately. By this time tomorrow, everything will be legally binding.”
Victoria nodded. “Thank you, Frederick. That will be all.”
The lawyer stood, buttoning his jacket. “If I may say so, Ms. Kane… it’s been an honor serving you these many years.”
Something passed between them—thirty years of history distilled into a single look. Then Frederick bowed slightly and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Silence settled around them. Outside the window, the sun was beginning to set, painting the city skyline in shades of gold and amber.
“You didn’t have to do this,” Camille said finally.
“Yes,” Victoria countered. “I did.”
She shifted against the pillows, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features. “When Sophia died, I lost my future. Everything I had built suddenly felt hollow. What was the point of creating an empire if there was no one to inherit it?” She looked toward the window, her profile sharp against the fading light. “Then you came into my life. Not as a replacement for Sophia—no one could ever be that—but as something unexpected. A second chance, perhaps.”
Camille had never heard Victoria speak so openly about her feelings. It frightened her more than the surgery, more than the cancer, more than the will. Victoria Kane did not share her inner thoughts unless she feared she might not have another opportunity.
“When I took you in,” Victoria continued, “it was partly for Sophia. You reminded me of her—your potential, your raw strength that others had tried to crush. I thought helping you would somehow honor her memory.”
She turned back to Camille, her eyes clear and direct. “But somewhere along the way, it became about you. Just you. The woman you were becoming. The woman you are now.”
Camille felt tears threatening and fought them back. Victoria despised emotional displays.
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“I’m not ready to take your place,” she admitted.
Victoria’s expression softened marginally. “No one ever feels ready for power, Camille. Those who think they are invariably prove themselves unworthy of it.” She gestured to the bedside table. “Hand me that folder—the blue one.”
Camille passed it to her. Victoria opened it, removing several sheets of paper covered in her distinctive handwriting.
“These are notes I’ve prepared for you. Things I want you to know, strategies I might not have time to teach you.” She hesitated, uncharacteristically uncertain. “And some personal thoughts as well.”
She held out the papers. Camille took them, careful not to let their hands touch, afraid that physical contact might break the fragile control she was maintaining.
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