Camille’s point of view
“They rejected our ofter,”
Rebecca’s words hung in the air between us, impossible, unthinkable. The folder in her hands contained the formal response from Rodriguez Shipping, a single page declining our “generous proposal” with diplomatic language that barely masked the defiance beneath.
“That’s not possible,” I said, my voice too quiet even to my own ears. “They’re broke. Desperate. Days from complete collapse”
Mr. Rodriguez was quite firm.” Rebecca set the folder on my desk, her expression professionally neutral despite delivering news she knew would infuriate me. “Their lead negotiator said the family would rather see the company fail entirely than sell its legacy routes to Kane Industries at thirty cents on the dollar.”
Heat rose from my chest to my throat, a burning tide of rage I hadn’t felt since the night Stefan had handed me divorce papers on our anniversary. Since the night Rose had smirked at my pain while pretending concern. Since the night I’d walked away from the ruins of a life they’d systematically destroyed.
“Pride,” I spat the word like poison. “Always his weakness. His father’s too.”
I moved to the window, needing space to contain the fury threatening to crack my carefully constructed composure. Outside, spring rain fell on the Kane estate gardens, each drop hitting leaves and petals with precise, relentless rhythm. Like my revenge, patient, methodical, unstoppable.
Until now.
“The financial team has updated projections.” Rebecca’s voice remained steady, a reminder of the professional façade I needed to maintain. “Rodriguez Shipping will default on their major loans tomorrow. Their credit lines are frozen. They cannot meet payroll next week.”
“Then why reject our offer?” I turned back to face her, struggling to understand “Thirty cents was insulting, yes, but it would have given them operating capital. Time to reorganize. A chance to salvage something.”
Rebecca consulted her tablet. “Our analysts suggest it may be a negotiating tactic. Rejecting our first offer to push for better terms.”
I shook my head, knowing Stefan better than any analyst ever could. “No. It’s principle. Family pride. The Rodriguez name.”
Three generations of shipping legacy. The grandfather who’d started with a single vessel during the Depression, The father who’d expanded globally during the shipping boom. And Stefan, who’d inherited it all without understanding the sacrifice behind it. Who’d taken for granted what others had built.
Just as he’d taken me for granted.
“What do they hope to gain?” I asked, more to myself than Rebecca. “They must know they can’t survive without selling something”
“Our intelligence suggests they may be consolidating their Northwestern operations.” Rebecca scrolled through her notes. “Moving liquid assets to their Seattle division before the banks seize everything else.”
A strategic retreat. Smart, actually, Salvaging the one piece of the company structurally protected from the banks‘ reach. The original hub where Rodriguez Shipping had began three generations ago.
Starting over from nearly nothing
My fingers curled into fists, nails digging half–masons intumy palms. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Stefan was supposed to surrender completely. Was supposed to experience the total loss of everything he valued. Was supposed to feel the helplessness I’d felt when he destroyed my life without a second thought.
“The banks move tomorrow?” I asked.
Rebecca nodded. “First thing in the morning Our sources say they’ll foreclose on outstanding loans and seize all collateralized assets”
“And the board meeting?”
“Emergency session scheduled for nine AM. Likely to accept the chairman’s resignation and approve bankruptcy protection filing”
I moved back to my desk, finger tapping against the polished mahogany as I thought. Stefan was slipping through my fingers. Finding a way to survive when he should be experiencing complete destruction. Holding onto a scrap of his family legacy when he should be losing everything.
“Call Matthew Chen at First National,” I instructed. “Tell han Kane Industries will purchase Rodriguez Shipping’s debt at eighty cents on the dollar. All of it, the secured loans, the operating lines, the equipment leases. Everything the banks are holding”
Rebecca’s eyes widened slightly, the only indication of her surprise at this unexpected move. “That’s over forty million dollars in bad debt, Ms. Kane. The financial team hasn’t analyzed….”
“I don’t care what it costs,“I cut her off, voice sharp with determination. “If Stefan won’t sell to us directly, we’ll own his debt instead. Every dollar he owes, every asset securing those loans, every piece of paper with the Rodriguez name, I want it all under Kane Industries control by market open tomorrow.”
She made quick notes on her tablet. “And after we acquire the debt?”
“We call it immediately. All of it. No extensions, no refinancing, no mercy.” My voice sounded foreign to my own ears, cold and hard in a way I barely recognized. “If he wants to save his precious Seattle operation, he’ll have to do it without a penny of operating capital.”
Rebecca nodded, professional mask firmly in place despite what must have seemed like irrational business decisions. Spending forty million to acquire bad debt made no financial sense, But this wasn’t about finance. It was about justice. About making Stefan feel the complete helplessness I’d experienced when he’d discarded me like yesterday’s trash.
“There’s one more thing,” I added. “The Rodriguez family estate. The banks don’t hold that mortgage, Sterling Trust does. I want it too.”
I set the phone down, strangely unsettled by her enthusiasm. Once, her approval had been everything I sought. Her strategic guidance the foundation of my reborn existence. Her careful mentoring the framework for my transformation from victim to avenger.
But recently, something had shifted. Some small, persistent voice questioning whether Victoria’s vision of justice through complete destruction was truly what I wanted. Whether becoming as cold and calculating as those who had hurt me was really victory at all.
Alexander’s words floated back to me: “The phoenix rises not just from ashes, but toward something greater.”
I pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time for doubt. For questioning the path I’d followed for sixteen months. Stefan had rejected the lifeline I’d offered, insulting though it had been. Had chosen family pride over practical survival. Had demonstrated once again the arrogance that had defined our marriage.
My phone buzzed again, Alexander, not accepting my assistant’s message as final.
*The phoenix makes her choice. Today revenge, perhaps tomorrow something more. When you’re ready to discuss possibilities beyond Victoria’s script, I’ll be waiting message,
I started to delete the then stopped, rereading his words. How did he always seem to know my thoughts? To understand the conflict beneath my carefully maintained exterior?
More importantly, how did he know about Victoria’s “Script? About her careful orchestration of my revenge? About the plan we’d developed together over sixteen months of meticulous preparation?
The questions added to my unease, to the growing sense that Alexander Pierce knew far more about me than should be possible. That he somehow saw beyond the surgical alterations and behavioral training to the woman beneath.
To the woman I sometimes feared no longer existed.
Tomorrow would bring the next phase of Stefan’s destruction. The irrevocable foreclosure on his family’s shipping empire. The beginning of the end for the Rodriguek legacy.
But somewhere beneath my fury at his rejection, beneath my determination to make him suffer as I had suffered, a small voice whispered uncomfortable questions.
What happens after revenge is complete? Who will you be when hatred no longer defines your purpose? What rises from ashes when the fire finally burns out?
Questions I pushed aside, focusing instead on the justice tomorrow would bring. On the satisfaction of watching Stefan finally understand what it meant to lose everything that mattered.
On the moment when he would finally pay the debt he owed for destroying Camille Lewis without a second thought.
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