SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan)

Chapter 13

CAMILLE'S POINT OF VIEW the

"Hold still, please."

Dr. Miranda Torres's gloved fingers touched my chin, turning my face gently to catch the light. Her dark eyes

studied every curve and angle with the focus of an artist examining marble before the first chisel strike.

We sat in her private clinic, a discreet facility hidden behind unmarked doors in a luxury Manhattan building. The

consultation room looked more like an upscale spa than a medical office, with soft lighting, exper single diploma

on display. The credentials were understood, not advertised. Dr. Torres didn't need wall decorations to prove her

expertise, her client list of celebrities, politicians, and billionaires spoke for itself. " 1 glanced at Victoria, who sat

in a leather chair in the corner, tablet in hand, seemingly absorbed in emails but missing nothing.

"What exactly will you be doing?" | asked, trying to keep the nervousness from my voice.

Dr. Torres touched a screen on her desk, and a 3D model of my face appeared on the wall display. | stared at the

digital version of myself, theI'd been living with for the past five weeks of Victoria's transformation program.

"We're not planning a complete overhaul," Dr. Torres explained, manipulating the image with practiced gestures.

"That would be obvious, unnatural, and frankly, unnecessary. Instead, w "Your cheekbones, for instance," she

continued. "Already well-

defined, but we can enhance them slightly

to create more tic shadows." The digital face shifted, the cheeks becoming more sculpted. "It changes how

light hits your face, how others perceive your strength."

Victoria finally looked up. "Show the jaw adjustment as well."

Dr. Torres nodded, manipulating the image again. My jawline becslightly more defined, stronger.

"The goal isn't disguise," the doctor said, eyes meeting mine directly. "It's transformation. We're not erasing you,

we're amplifying your power. People

see what they expect

to see, and no one looking for a victim will recognize a queen."

The words hit something deep inside me. No one looking for a victim will recognize a queen. Wasn't that exactly

what Victoria had been teachingthese past weeks? That power cnot just from wealth or "What about

recovery time?" | asked, surprising myself with how clinical my own voice sounded. When had | started accepting

this

as necessary rather than extreme?

"Two weeks for the Initial healing. Six weeks before you're camera ready for close-

ups. We'll use minimally Invasive techniques, fillers, fat transfers, thread lifts, and only minor surgical

interventions."

She turned back to the display, continuing her overview. "Sabtle refinement of the nose bridge. Enhancement of

the lips, not overfilled, just a slight increase in definition. row lift to open the eyes. And we'll adjust

+25 BONU

Chapter 13

slightly."

| watched my digital face transform bit by bit. Each change was small, almost imperceptible on its own. Together,

they created someone new, someone who looked likebut somehow... more. Stronger. Sharper. A face that

commanded attention rather than sought approval.

"When can you begin?" Victoria asked, setting aside her tablet.

Dr. Torres checked her calendar. "I've already cleared my schedule for tomorrow morning. Assuming blood work

comes back normal today, we can proceed at 7 AM."

Tomorrow. So soon. My heart rate increased, a flicker of panic rising in my chest. This was happening. Really

happening. Not just new clothes or a different hairstyle, but physical changes to my very face. Victoria must

have noticed my reaction. "Do you need more tto consider?" Her tone was neutral, but | recognized the test

beneath the question. Was | still committed? Still willing to do whatever necessary t | met her gaze steadily.

NO, Tomorrow is fine

Dr. Torres nodded, pleased. "Excellent. My nurse will draw blood now, and I'll provide detailed pre- operative

instructions. No food after midnight, no alcohol for 24 hours before, no aspirin or anti- inflammatories for a week.

She rose from her chair, signaling the consultation was ending. "One more thing, Ms. Kane," she added, using my

new nwith practiced ease. This transformation is as much psychological

as physical. The woman you'll see in the mirror afterward will look different, yes, but how you carry her, how you

embody her, that's what truly changes how the world sees you."

After blood draws and paperwork, James drove us back to Victoria's

mansion in silence. | stared out the window at passing Manhattan streets, trying to memorize my own face in the

reflection. By this ttomorrow, it would be altered in ways | couldn't fully grasp yet. "You're quiet," Victoria

observed as we pulled into the private drive.

"Just thinking"

"Having doubts?"

| turned to look at her directly. "Would you stop the procedures if | said yes?"

A hint of a smile touched her lips. "No. But your answer tells| won't need to force the issue."

As always, she saw throughwith unsettling clarity. | wasn't having doubts, not really. Just trying to process

the finality of what was happening. Every step until now had been theoretically reversible Different But altering

my face, that was permanent. A physical manifestation of my commitment to this new life, this new identity.

"Dr. Torres is the best," Victoria said as we entered the house. "She's discreet, skilled, and understands our

objectives completely. She's also the only surgeon who has ever worked on my face."

This surprised ine, Victoria looked naturally elegant, her age visible but beautifully managed. I'd never suspected

cosmetic intervention.

"You've had work done?" | asked before | could stop mysel

She raised one perfect eyebrow. "Of course. Beauty is a weapon, Camille, Only fools refuse to sharpen their

blades

Chapter 13

due to misplaced principles "

That night, | stood before my bathroom mirror longer than usual, studying the face that would change tomorrow.

| traced my cheekbones, the line of my jaw, the curve of my lips. Features inherited from parents sister.

Would changing my outside help heal what was broken inside?

Sleep cfitfully, filled with dreams of faceless women and mirrors that showed strangers. | woke before my

alarm, stomach tight with a mix of anxiety and anticipation.

James droveto the clinic in pre-

dawn darkness. Victoria didn't accompany us this time, a board meeting required her attention. But her absence

felt deliberate, another test to see if | would proceed without her oversight. Dr. Torres greetedThe next few

hours passed in a haze of medications and murmured voices. | remembered the cool feel of antiseptic on my

skin, the gentle pressure of Dr. Torres's hands marking surgical guidelines, the strange Then nothing.

| woke to dimmed lights and the soft beep of monitoring equipment. My face felt tight, pressure bandages

wrapped around my head. A private nurse appeared immediately, offering ice chips for my dry throat. “E The

recovery suite turned out to be a luxury apartment attached to the clinic, staffed with

private nurses

and equipped with everything needed for healing in complete comfort and secrecy. Victoria had arranged for my

things to be brought from the mansion-

clothes, toiletries, even books I'd been reading.

t see.

For five days, | existed in a twilight state of medications, gentle care, and gradually reducing bandages. Dr.

Torres visited twice daily, monitoring my healing with meticulous attention Special diets arrived on silve | still

hadn't seen myself.

The mirrors had been covered when | arrived at the recovery suite, standard protocol, Dr. Torres explained, to

prevent psychological shock during the most swollen phase of recovery.

On the sixth day, Dr. Torres arrived for her morning check with

Victoria in tow. Something in their expressions toldtoday was significant.

"The initial healing has progressed exceptionally well," Dr. Torres said, examining my face with clinical precision.

"The swelling has reduced enough for a first look Are you ready?" My heart pounded as | nodded.