Chapter 157
Chapter 157:
She looked into Alexander’s eyes, her own burning with unshed tears. “But mostly, I’m afraid she’ll never know. That I never told her what she means to me. That she gave me more than revenge, more than power. She gave me back myself.”
Alexander moved from his chair, kneeling beside her. The gesture—so unexpected from this powerful man—unlocked the tears she had been holding back. They spilled down her cheeks, hot and unstoppable.
“Then tell her,” he said simply. “When she wakes up from surgery, tell her.”
Camille shook her head. “Victoria doesn’t want emotional displays. She values control, discipline.”
“That’s what she shows the world,” Alexander countered. “But she chose you, Camille. Not a business partner, not a protégé. She chose you, named you her daughter in every way that matters. That wasn’t a business decision.”
Camille closed her eyes, remembering Victoria’s rare moments of vulnerability. The night she had taken Camille to Sophia’s grave. The day she had given Camille her daughter’s silver phoenix pendant. The quiet pride in her eyes when Camille had successfully navigated her first board meeting. Small cracks in the armor of the formidable Victoria Kane, glimpses of the woman beneath.
“What if she doesn’t…”
“Wake up?” The question emerged as barely a whisper, giving voice to her deepest fear.
Alexander stood, pulling Camille to her feet and into his arms. She stiffened at first—physical comfort was not something she had allowed herself since her transformation began—but then melted against him, burying her face in the solid warmth of his shoulder.
“Victoria Kane is the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he murmured against her hair. “That includes you, which is saying something. She didn’t build an empire by giving up, and she won’t start now.”
Camille allowed herself to be held, drawing strength from Alexander’s certainty.
After a moment, she pulled back, wiping her eyes.
“I’ve never seen you cry before,” Alexander said quietly.
“I’ve never let anyone see me cry since…” She trailed off, thinking of the night she had signed those divorce papers, walked out of her marriage, and been attacked in that parking garage. The night that had ended Camille Lewis and begun Camille Kane.
“Victoria taught me that emotion is weakness,” she said.
Alexander shook his head. “Victoria taught you that uncontrolled emotion is weakness. There’s a difference.”
He brushed a strand of hair from her face with unexpected tenderness. “What you’re feeling right now—fear of losing someone you love, someone who changed your life—that’s not weakness, Camille. It’s the core of what makes us human.”
.
.
.