SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan) novel Chapter 219

Chapter 219

The conference room emptied slowly as Victoria, Stefan, and Hannah left to coordinate security preparations for James's impending attack. Their voices faded down the hallway, discussing evacuation routes and emergency protocols, leaving behind only the quiet hum of computer equipment and the weight of everything that had been revealed.

Alexander stood by the windows, staring out at the Manhattan skyline as darkness settled over the city. His reflection in the glass showed a man hollowed out by the truth, his face gaunt with the realization of how completely he had been manipulated. The lights below twinkled like stars, beautiful and distant, while inside him everything felt broken and sharp.

Camille remained at the conference table, watching Alexander's silhouette against the window. She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands hung at his sides like he didn't know what to do with them anymore. For months, those hands had typed messages to his uncle's killer. For months, those hands had gathered evidence against innocent people.

"Everyone's gone," Camille said quietly.

Alexander didn't turn around. "I know."

The silence stretched between them, filled with months of pain and betrayal and misunderstanding. Alexander's reflection in the window looked like a ghost, transparent and haunting. Camille could see her own reflection too, sitting small and still at the large table where they had once planned their future together.

"I destroyed everything," Alexander said, his voice barely audible. "Our marriage. Your trust. Victoria's health. I nearly got people killed because I believed the lies of a murderer."

Camille stood up slowly, her chair making a soft sound against the floor. "Alexander."

"I surveillance on you, Camille. I recorded our private conversations. I used our wedding day as cover to photograph Victoria." Alexander's voice cracked with each admission. "I turned our love into a weapon against your family."

"Alexander, look at me."

He turned from the window, and Camille saw tears streaming down his face. His eyes were red with exhaustion and grief, his usual composure completely shattered. This wasn't the confident businessman who had swept her off her feet, or the jealous husband who had attacked Stefan in rage. This was someone broken by the weight of his own actions and the truth of how he had been used.

"I'm so sorry," Alexander whispered. "I'm so sorry for everything I did to you."

The distance between them felt enormous. Ten feet of conference room floor that might as well have been an ocean. Alexander looked at Camille standing there in her simple black dress, her hair falling softly around her shoulders, and remembered how beautiful she had looked on their wedding day. How happy they had been during those first months of marriage, before James's poison had infected everything.

"Camille, I need to ask you something," Alexander said, his voice shaking. "And I understand if you can't give me an answer."

"What?"

Alexander walked toward her slowly, each step feeling like a confession. When he reached the middle of the room, he stopped and looked into her eyes. The tears on his cheeks caught the fluorescent lights, making them shine like silver tracks down his face.

Then, to Camille's shock, Alexander dropped to his knees.

The sound of his knees hitting the floor echoed in the empty conference room. Alexander looked up at her from where he knelt, his hands pressed against his thighs, his entire body shaking with emotion.

"I'm asking for your forgiveness," he said, his voice breaking completely. "I know I don't deserve it. I know I destroyed our marriage and violated your trust and nearly killed the woman who saved your life. But I'm asking anyway."

Camille stared down at him, her heart racing. She had imagined this moment during the darkest nights of the past few months. Had pictured Alexander finally understanding what he had done, finally apologizing for the pain he had caused. But seeing him actually kneeling before her, tears streaming down his face, broke something open in her chest.

"Alexander, get up."

"Please," he said, staying on his knees. "Please let me say this. I need to say this."

Camille felt her own tears starting, hot and unstoppable. "You're scaring me."

"I'm not asking you to take me back. I'm not asking you to forgive me so we can rebuild our marriage. I know that's impossible now." Alexander's words came out in a rush, like he was afraid he would lose his courage. "I'm asking you to forgive me so you can heal. So you can move forward without carrying the weight of what I did to you."

"Alexander..."

"I let a murderer convince me that revenge was more important than love. I let James Whitfield use my grief to turn me into someone who could hurt the person I loved most in the world." Alexander's voice was raw with pain. "You deserved a husband who trusted you, who protected you, who chose you over everything else. Instead, you got someone who surveilled you and lied to you and used your love as a tool for someone else's vendetta."

Camille could barely see him through her tears. The man kneeling before her looked so different from the confident person she had married. Broken, yes, but also somehow more real than he had been in months. The lies and manipulation had been stripped away, leaving only raw truth and desperate regret.

"I want to make things right," Alexander continued. "Not our marriage, I know that's over. But I want to protect you from James. I want to stop the man who used my uncle's death to destroy both our lives. I want to do something good for once instead of just causing more pain."

Camille knelt down in front of him, her dress pooling around her on the floor. Now they were at eye level, both of them on their knees in the empty conference room, surrounded by the evidence of James's fifteen-year campaign of lies.

"Alexander, look at me," she said softly.