SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 133

Rose hurled the empty bottle against the wall. It shattered into tiny pieces, much like their plans. On the

television, news channels couldn't stop talking about the Phoenix Grid's successful launch. Camille's face

complete.

"Turn it off!" she screamed, her voice raw from hours of

rage.

Herod stood by the window of their shabby motel room, his back to her. They had been forced to hide here after

abandoning his penthouse. His finger pressed the remote button, silencing Camille's voice mid- sentence about

"transformation" and rising from the ashes."

"All of it," Herod said, his voice hollow with defeat. "All

my planning, all my resources, all the tspent cultivating Walsh as our inside

man, wasted."

"We knew they discovered Walsh," Rose paced the

worn carpet, her movements sharp and erratic. "But how did

they block the signal jammer too? That was supposed to be foolproof!"

Herod turned to face her. His expensive suit looked out of place against the peeling wallpaper. The

room smelled of old cigarettes and cheap cleaning products.

"Their systems had protections I've never seen

before," he said, frustration evident in the tightness of his jaw. "Everything I've

built since approaching you with this plan, gone in an instant."

Rose twisted the

cap off a new bottle with such force it cut into her palm. She didn't seem to notice the small line of blood.

"She's always one step ahead now," she

muttered, taking a long drink. "My sister. The great Camille Kane, Phoenix rising from the ashes."

Her mocking tone

couldn't hide the raw jealousy beneath. She turned to the mirror, barely recognizing herself. Her carefully

maintained appearance had crumbled over the past days. Dark roots showed in her hair. Her eyes looked wild,

rimmed with smeared makeup.

"We're finished," Herod said quietly. "Kane Industries stock

is soaring. The Grid is operational. Every plan we had has failed."

Rose spun toward him, bottle clutched in her white-

knuckled hand. "Finished? FINISHED? We haven't even started!"

"Rose..."

"No!" She moved closer, her face inches from his. "We didn't fail because

of Walsh or better security. We failed because we weren't willing to go far enough."

Herod studied her, seeing something dangerous in her eyes.

"What do you mean?"

“1

mean we've been playing by their rules." Rose's voice dropped to an intense whisper. " Trying to sabotage their

precious Grid through codes and software. Trying to damage their reputation. It's too subtle." "There's nothing

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subtle about what we've tried," Herod argued.

"Yes, there is." Rose's smile chilled him. "We never targeted the actual infrastructure. The physical Grid itself."

Herod stepped back. "You're talking about destroying Grid components directly."

"Yes." Rose's eyes lit up. "The main control hub. The primary junction boxes. The central servers. Not

through codes, but through direct action."

“That's not sabotage anymore, Rose. That's terrorism."

She laughed, the sound brittle and sharp. "Such a tic word. | prefer to call

it direct action."

Herod moved to the small table where his laptop sat. He closed it deliberately. "When | first approached you

about working together, | wanted to acquire Kane Industries, to make Victoria pay for destroying my family's

company. "But this..."

"This is exactly what we've been working toward all along!" Rose slammed her bottle on the table, liquid sloshing

over the sides. "Don't

pretend you're shocked now. Don't act like you haven't thought about it too."

"There's a difference between thinking and doing," Herod said quietly.

"Is there?" Rose's voice softened dangerously. "When Victoria destroyed your family's company, when your

brother killed himself, didn't you imagine making her suffer? Physically suffer?" Herod turned away, unable to

deny it. In his darkest moments after his brother's suicide, he had

imagined Victoria Kane suffering, dying even. But fantasy was different from reality.

"The Grid is operational now," he said instead. "Security will be even tighter."

"But they think they've won." Rose moved closer again, her body pressing against his back, her voice a caress

against his ear. "They

think we've been neutralized. They won't expect a physical attack now."

Her hands slid around his waist. "Think about it, Herod. The Phoenix

Grid's grand launch, celebrated worldwide. And

then, just days later, its spectacular failure. Camille's moment

of triumph turned to public humiliation."

Her words painted a picture he couldn't help but

find appealing. Victoria's pride crushed. Camille's reputation destroyed. His brother

finally avenged.

"How would we even do it?" he asked, already hating himself for considering it.

Rose's smile widened. She moved to her bag, pulling out papers. Diagrams of Grid

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Chapter 133

infrastructure. Security rotations. Access points.

"You've been planning this all along," Herod realized.

"I've been considering all options," Rose corrected, spreading the papers on the bed. The main control hub has

the weakest physical security. Attack there, and the entire Grid fails."

"People could be hurt," Herod pointed out.

Rose didn't even blink. "Casualties are inevitable in war."

"This isn't war."

"Isn't it?" Her eyes flashed. "You ctobecause Victoria Kane destroyed

your family. | joined you because Camille stole my life. They declared war first."

She pressed against him again, her body warm and familiar. "We've tried it your way, Herod. The careful,

calculated approach. And we've failed every time." Her lips brushed his ear, "Now we try it my way."

Herod felt himself weakening. The humiliation of today's failure burned inside him. The thought of Camille

and

Victoria celebrating their victory while he and Rose hid in this pathetic motel made his blood boil.

"When?" he asked, already knowing he would regret this.

"Tomorrow night," Rose replied, triumph

in her voice. "While they're still congratulating themselves. While their

guard is down."

She pulled him

toward the bed and the papers spread across it. “I've already started planning. The security patterns, the access

points, everything."

As she walked him through

her plan, Herod felt a growing unease. This wasn't the Rose he had first approached month's ago, calculating,

strategic, focused on financial gain

and professional destruction. This Rose burned with something darker, more primal.

"What happens after?" he asked when she finished

outlining her plan. "If we do this, there's no going back. We'd be fugitives."

Rose shrugged, unconcerned, "We have money. Fake identities. We could disappear anywhere."

"Together?" The question slipped out before he could stop it.

Rose looked at him with an expression he couldn't quite read. Not love, he

wasn't sure she was capable of that emotion

anymore. But need, certainly. Dependency.

"Of course together," she said, her hand cupping his face. "Who else do we have

now? Who else would understand what we've done, what we've sacrificed?"

There was truth in her words. They had burned all other

bridges. Their mutual hatred of Victor

in ways that went beyond normal

and Camille had bound the together

relationships. They needed each other now, not from love, but from shared

guilt, shared obsession, shared destruction.

"I need you withon this," Rose whispered, her fingers digging into his shoulders with desperate strength. "I

can't do this alone."

The admission of weakness from a woman who showed none was more persuasive than any argument. Herod

found himself nodding, even as part of him screamed this was madness.

"Together," he agreed, sealing his fate.

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Rose's smile blossomed, beautiful

and terrible at once. For a moment, he glimpsed the woman she must have been before hatred consumed her,

stunning, vibrant, alive. Then

the moment passed, and the hardness returned to her eyes.

"We'll finish what we started," she

said, pulling him closer. "We'll watch it all burn."

Later, as Rose slept beside him, Herod stared at the ceiling. The peeling paint formed patterns like a

map to nowhere. He had crossed

a line today, agreeing to Rose's plan. There would be no redemption, no

going back.

He looked at the woman curled against him. In

sleep, her face softened, the constant rage temporarily eased. Yet even now, her fingers clutched his arm

possessively, afraid he might vanish while she slept.

They had becsomething terrible

together, he realized. Something worse than either might have been alone. Rose's hatred

and his strategic mind. Her willingness to destroy everything and his ability to make it happen.

Tomorrow they would cross the final line. From revenge to something far darker. And though he had agreed,

though he would follow

through, a small part of him hoped they would fail again.

Because the

alternative meant becoming exactly what Victoria Kane had always believed the Prestons to be, monsters willing

to destroy lives for their own satisfaction.

Rose stirred beside him, her eyes

opening. “What are you thinking about?" she asked, voice thick with sleep.

"Tomorrow," he answered honestly.

She smiled, that terrifying smile that mixed eagerness and rage. "Tomorrow we take everything from them, just

like they took everything from us."

Her hand moved to his face, fingers tracing his jaw with surprising gentleness. “No more failures. No more

watching from a distance while they celebrate. Tomorrow we win."

Herod nodded, unable to voice his growing doubts. Rose

would see any hesitation as betrayal now. They were too far down

this road together.

"Tomorrow," he agreed, the word tasting bitter on his tongue.

Rose settled against him again, falling back to sleep with the ease of someone whose conscience troubled her

not at

all. Herod remained awake, watching shadows move across the ceiling, feeling the weight of what was to come

pressing down on him like a physical

thing.

Tomorrow they would attack the Phoenix Grid directly. Tomorrow they would cause real, physical destruction.

Tomorrow they would beceverything they had pretended not to be.

The final battle was coming. And Herod feared no one would emerge unscathed.