SCORNED EX WIFE Queen Of Ashes (Camille and Stefan) novel Chapter 171

Chapter 171

The hospital waiting room smelled of bleach and coffee gone cold. Camille sat rigid in an uncomfortable plastic chair, staring at the double doors where they'd rushed Stefan an hour ago. Blood stained her clothes, his blood. She hadn't changed, couldn't bring herself to leave, even when a kind nurse had offered scrubs.

"He'll pull through," Alexander said, his fingers laced with hers. "Stefan's tough."

Camille nodded without speaking. The image of Stefan leaping in front of her, taking the bullet meant for her chest, played on endless loop in her mind. His body jerking backward. The surprised look in his eyes. The spreading red stain on his shirt.

"Why did he do it?" she whispered. "After everything..."

Alexander squeezed her hand. "He wanted to make things right. In the only way he could."

Thunder rattled the windows. The storm that had masked their approach to the cabin now battered the hospital, as if nature itself shared their turmoil. Camille shivered, suddenly aware of her damp clothes and hair.

"Here," Alexander said, draping his dry jacket over her shoulders. The warmth of it, the faint scent of his cologne, steadied her somehow.

"What did you say to Rose?" she asked. "When they pulled her from the water?"

Alexander's jaw tightened. "I told her that no matter what happened with Stefan, she would spend the rest of her life paying for what she'd done. That no judge would show mercy once they saw what she did to you. To the people at the gala. That her story was over."

Camille had never heard such coldness in his voice, not even during their confrontation with Herod Preston months ago. It should have frightened her, but instead she felt oddly comforted by his ferocity.

"Miss Kane?" A doctor appeared, still wearing his surgical cap. Camille and Alexander jumped to their feet. "You're listed as Mr. Rodriguez's emergency contact."

"Yes," Alexander said. "This is Camille Kane, his..." He hesitated.

"Former wife," Camille finished for him. "How is he?"

The doctor looked between them. "The surgery is ongoing. The bullet missed his heart but damaged major blood vessels. He's lost a lot of blood. We're doing everything we can, but I need to be honest, it's going to be touch and go."

Camille swayed, the room tilting beneath her feet. Alexander's arm went around her waist, holding her upright.

"Is there anyone else we should contact?" the doctor asked. "Family?"

"His parents are in Madrid," Alexander said. "I've tried reaching them, but..."

A commotion at the waiting room entrance cut him off. Margaret and Richard Lewis burst through the doors, rain-soaked and worried.

"Camille!" her mother cried, rushing forward. She stopped short, taking in her daughter's bloody clothes and bruised face. "Oh my God, baby..."

Richard stood behind his wife, his face pale with concern. "We came as soon as Alexander called. Is Stefan...?"

"Still in surgery," Camille said, her voice cracking. "He took a bullet for me."

Margaret's eyes filled with tears. Without hesitation, she pulled Camille into an embrace. Unlike the awkward, tentative hugs of their recent meetings, this one felt real, a mother's genuine concern for her child.

The doctor cleared his throat. "I should get back. I'll update you as soon as I can."

He disappeared back through the double doors, leaving the family in tense silence.

"How are you holding up?" Richard asked, his hand gentle on Camille's shoulder.

The simple question broke something inside her. Tears she'd held back for hours suddenly poured out, her body shaking with sobs.

"I'm sorry," she gasped between breaths. "I can't seem to stop."

"Don't apologize," her father said. "You've been through hell. Cry all you need to."

Alexander brought her a paper cup of water, his presence steady and calm beside her. The storm continued its assault outside, rain lashing against the windows.

"Where's Rose?" Margaret asked quietly.

"In FBI custody," Alexander answered. "She'll face charges for everything, the bombings, the kidnapping, attempted murder."

Richard shook his head, his expression haunted. "I still can't believe it came to this."

The waiting room fell silent again, except for the drumming of rain against the windows. The nurse at the desk tapped at her computer. A television mounted in the corner played muted news footage of the burning cabin.

A scratchy voice broke the stillness. "I see I'm not too late."

Victoria Kane stood in the doorway, leaning heavily on a cane. Her face was gray with exhaustion, her body frail from cancer treatments, but her eyes burned with the same fierce determination Camille had come to know and love.

"Victoria," Camille breathed, rushing to her side. "You shouldn't be here. Your doctors..."

"My doctors don't tell me what to do," Victoria snapped, though without real anger. She let Camille help her to a chair. "Alexander called. Said you needed me."

Margaret immediately moved to make room. "Victoria, please sit here. It's more comfortable."

The gesture wasn't lost on Camille, her mother and Victoria had come a long way from their first icy meeting months ago. The tentative respect they'd established had clearly deepened during Camille's abduction.

"How is he?" Victoria asked, settling into the offered chair with barely disguised relief.

"Fighting," Alexander said. "The bullet damaged major blood vessels, but they're working to repair them."

Victoria nodded, her gaze drifting to Camille's bloodstained clothes. "And you, child? Are you hurt?"