Chapter 155

Chapter 155:

“Read them after I’m in surgery,” Victoria instructed. “They might help you understand… certain decisions I’ve made.”

A nurse entered the room, carrying a tray of medication. “Time for your pre-op preparation, Ms. Kane.”

Victoria nodded. “Very well.” She looked at Camille. “You should go. Get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

Camille stood, clutching the folder to her chest. She wanted to say something meaningful, something that captured the complexity of her feelings, but words seemed inadequate.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” she promised instead.

Victoria’s mouth curved slightly. “I expect nothing less.”

At the door, Camille paused and looked back. Victoria was already speaking to the nurse, her manner brisk and businesslike, showing no trace of fear about the procedure that awaited her. The sight struck Camille with sudden clarity. This was the kind of strength she had been learning all these months. Not just the ability to fight enemies or run a company, but the courage to face whatever came with unflinching resolve.

Outside in the corridor, Camille leaned against the wall, the folder pressed against her heart like a shield. Throughout her transformation from Camille Lewis to Camille Kane, she had focused on becoming powerful enough to destroy her enemies. She had never considered what it might mean to become powerful enough to carry Victoria’s legacy.

Her phone buzzed. Alexander, texting to check on Victoria.

Surgery tomorrow morning. She’s ready. Just updated her will.

She hesitated, then added: She named me her sole heir.

Alexander’s response came seconds later: Of course she did. There was never any doubt.

Camille stared at his words, wondering how something so monumental to her could seem so obvious to him.

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The elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside, still clutching Victoria’s folder. As the doors closed, she caught a final glimpse of Victoria’s room down the corridor—the last place she had expected to find herself when she signed those divorce papers eighteen months ago.

The hospital café sat empty at 2 AM, its harsh fluorescent lights casting an unnatural glow across the plastic tables. Camille stared into her untouched coffee, watching ripples form each time she trembled. Outside, rain pattered against the windows, blurring the city lights into smears of color.

Alexander slid into the seat across from her, setting down two fresh cups. The scent of strong espresso cut through the antiseptic hospital smell.

“You haven’t slept,” he said. Not a question.

Camille shook her head. She hadn’t changed clothes either, still wearing the navy suit from her meeting with Victoria’s lawyer twelve hours ago. The folder of handwritten notes sat on the table between them, untouched. She couldn’t bring herself to read Victoria’s words yet.

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