Chapter 323
Chapter 323:
Night fell as Rose continued planning, her notebook filling with details, contingencies, escape routes. The television droned on in the background, her face appearing regularly between other news stories. Once, they showed a photo of her as a teenager, newly adopted into the Lewis family, standing awkwardly beside a smiling Camille.
Rose paused her writing, staring at that old image. She remembered that day. Remembered the confusion of being placed with a wealthy family after years in foster care. Remembered Camille’s eager attempts at friendship, her willingness to share everything—her room, her parents, her life.
What Camille had never understood was that Rose didn’t want to share. She wanted to take. To possess completely. To be the only daughter, the only focus of attention, the only one who mattered.
And now, all these years later, nothing had changed. Rose still wanted everything Camille had. Still burned with the need to take it all away.
“One final act,” Rose whispered, turning away from her younger self on the screen. “One last push, and you’ll have nothing left, sister dear.”
She returned to her planning, methodically listing what she would need for each phase. Disguises. Transportation. Weapons. Timing would be crucial. Security around both Victoria and Alexander would be tight following the bombing. She would need to be patient. Careful. Perfect in her execution.
The news switched to footage of the ruined Grand Plaza Hotel, still smoldering in places despite days of firefighting efforts. They showed photographs of the six people killed in the bombing: an elderly couple who had donated millions to children’s charities, a hotel security guard who had helped evacuate guests, a waiter working his first shift, and two young women who had attended the gala as part of their business school program.
Rose watched their faces appear on screen without emotion. They were nothing to her. Meaningless pieces swept from the board during her game with Camille.
Only two pieces mattered now: Victoria Kane and Alexander Pierce. Remove them, and Camille would be left defenseless. Broken beyond repair.
Rose closed her notebook and moved to the window again, scanning the parking lot for any sign of police. Still clear. But she couldn’t stay here much longer. It was too risky, with her face on every screen, with the FBI closing in.
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She packed her few belongings quickly, wiping down surfaces to remove any fingerprints. The manhunt had complicated things, but it hadn’t changed her goal. If anything, it made her more determined to finish what she had started. Let them hunt her. Let them plaster her face on every television, every newspaper, every phone screen in America. By the time they found her, it would be too late. Camille would already have lost everything.
Rose checked her disguise one last time in the mirror: short black hair, brown contact lenses, face subtly altered with contouring makeup. She barely recognized herself. Perfect.
As she slipped out the motel door into the darkness, Rose felt a calmness settle over her. The manhunt would force her to move faster than planned, but perhaps that was better. No time for doubt. No space for second thoughts.
Just one final act of destruction aimed at the heart of Camille’s world. And this time, Rose would make sure her sister never rose from the ashes again.
.
.
.