Chapter 421

Chapter 421:

“Let’s not keep her waiting,” he said.

Victoria stood in the grand foyer, a silk robe wrapped around her thin frame. Despite the late hour, she looked alert, her silver hair neatly combed. Cancer treatment had taken its toll, but today’s happiness seemed to have renewed her strength.

“There you are,” she said, opening her arms to Camille. “My beautiful girl.” Alexander watched them embrace, his emotions tangling into an impossible knot. This woman had saved Camille, given her a home and purpose when she had nothing. She had also coldly destroyed his uncle’s life, seeing him as nothing but collateral damage in her ambition.

“Alexander.” Victoria turned to him, arms outstretched. “My son, now.” He stepped into her embrace, feeling her fragile frame against his chest. The lily in his pocket pressed between them, a silent accusation. Victoria smelled of expensive perfume and the subtle medicinal scent of someone undergoing treatment. Her hands patted his back affectionately.

“Take care of each other,” she said, releasing him. “And don’t worry about anything here. The doctors are pleased with my progress.”

“We’ll call every day,” Camille promised.

“Nonsense. Enjoy yourselves.” Victoria waved dismissively. “We waited too long to see you this happy. Nothing could please me more than knowing you’re both off celebrating properly.”

Alexander’s throat tightened. The genuine love in Victoria’s voice for Camille — and seemingly for him — only made his anger more confusing, not less. How could the same woman who had shown such calculated cruelty to his uncle look at them with such warmth?

“Thank you,” he managed, “for everything.”

Victoria smiled, misreading his tension as emotion. “No need for thanks between family.”

Family. The word echoed in his head as they said their final goodbyes, as they walked outside to where the chauffeur waited with their car, and as Camille waved one last time to Victoria, standing in the doorway.

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The car pulled away, tires crunching on gravel. Camille nestled against his side, her head on his shoulder.

“Can you believe it?” she murmured sleepily. “We’re actually married.”

Alexander slid his arm around her, drawing her closer. “It still feels like a dream.”

“A good one, I hope.” Her voice was already fading as exhaustion claimed her.

“The best,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

As Camille drifted to sleep against him, Alexander stared out the window at the passing city lights. In his pocket, the lily pressed against his ribs, its presence a constant reminder. In his mind, the image of his uncle’s face floated alongside Victoria’s smile as she’d blessed their union.

Two diverging paths stretched before him — one of forgiveness and new beginnings, the other of justice long denied. He couldn’t see where either led, couldn’t tell which one his uncle would want him to take.

The car turned onto the highway toward the airport. Beside him, Camille made a small sound in her sleep, her hand finding his even in unconsciousness. Alexander laced his fingers through hers, feeling the new weight of her wedding band, wondering if she would still want to wear it if she knew the truth.

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