Chapter 397

Chapter 397:

With that, she stepped back, allowing Alexander to guide her through the crowd to their waiting car.

“That wasn’t what we practiced,” he said once they were inside.

“No,” Camille agreed. “It was better.”

As the car pulled away from the courthouse, Camille looked back at the imposing building one last time. Inside those walls, her past had been laid bare, examined, and judged. Rose would spend the rest of her life paying for what she had done.

But Camille wouldn’t spend the rest of her life defining herself by it.

“You were right,” she said to Alexander.

“About what?”

“About feeling nothing being progress.” She turned from the window to face him. “When Victoria first took me in, all I could feel was pain and rage. She taught me to channel that into revenge. But revenge would have kept me tied to Rose forever.”

Alexander nodded, waiting for her to continue.

“Today, watching her, I realized something. Rose is still consumed by hatred. It’s all she has left. But I’m free of it.” Camille looked down at her hands, surprised to find them steady. “I don’t need to hate her anymore. I don’t need to fear her. I don’t need to think about her at all.”

Alexander reached across the seat, taking her hand in his. “That’s not emptiness, Camille. That’s peace.”

The word settled over her like a warm blanket. Peace. Not the fiery triumph Victoria had promised her revenge would bring. Not the bitter satisfaction of seeing her enemy fall. Something quieter, deeper, more lasting.

Camille leaned her head against Alexander’s shoulder as the car carried them away from the courthouse, away from Rose, away from the past. Justice had been served. And it was enough.

The silver wedding binder sat open on Camille’s desk, pages filled with fabric samples and venue photos. After months of courtrooms and business takeovers, the sight of something so normal, so hopeful, felt almost strange. Camille ran her fingers over a scrap of ivory silk, allowing herself a small smile.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Alexander said, entering her office with two cups in hand.

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“Just thinking how different this feels now.” She accepted the coffee, breathing in its rich aroma. “Before Rose’s trial, planning felt… impossible. Like tempting fate.”

Alexander settled into the chair across from her desk. “And now?”

“Now it feels real.” She turned a page in the binder to reveal a lakeside estate. “What do you think of this one?”

“Beautiful,” he said, studying the photograph. “But what really matters is if you like it.”

Camille considered the image—gardens sloping down to a private lake, mountains in the background, a grand house with wraparound porches. Nothing like the ultra-modern Manhattan venues she’d initially considered. “I do,” she admitted. “It reminds me of Cedar Lake. The good memories, before Rose.”

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