Camila's POV
"Ah, fuck this. Fuck all of it!"
My scream tore out of me before I even realized it. My arm swept across Ian's desk, sending files, pens, a photo frame—everything—crashing to the floor. The sound echoed through the office like shattered glass mocking me.
My chest rose and fell sharply. I tried to breathe, but the weight of Ian's words still pressed against my ribs like iron.
The door clicked open.
For a hopeful second, I thought it was Ian—coming back, apologizing, holding me, choosing me.
But it wasn't.
It was Victoria.
My breath caught. "Victoria? Oh my God—you're back?" I rushed toward her, throwing my arms around her.
Her body stiffened, just for a heartbeat—cold, mechanical—before she hugged me back with exaggerated enthusiasm.
"Good to finally see you again," she said sweetly… too sweetly.
As she pulled away, the sweetness dropped. She lowered her sunglasses with that arrogant tilt only she could pull off. Her glossy hair fell perfectly over her shoulder, not a strand out of place. Red lipstick that screamed money, fame, danger.
"What the fuck went on here? Why the room in such a mess?" she asked as she
strutted toward Ian's desk as if the room belonged to her, plucked a random folder from the chaos I'd made, and pretended to read.
"I saw the video, Camila. No need to pretend everything is alright" Her voice softened—dangerously so. "Everyone thinks you're a monster. A murderer. But you have to show them who Camila truly is"
Her eyes lifted to mine, a small, wicked smile forming. "But don't worry. Victoria is back… to fix things."
My stomach twisted. I hated how relieved I felt—and how terrified she looked.
She dialed a number.
"Lily," she said sharply, "make the arrangements we discussed yesterday. Everything must be perfect. No mistakes. Tonight, we take control. The Victoria way."
She hung up. I stared at her.
"What was that?" I asked.
She blinked slowly. "What was what, sweetheart?"
"The call you just made. What does it have to do with me?"
"Oh, baby," she sighed dramatically as she flipped her hair back. Then she hopped onto Ian's desk, crossing her legs elegantly. "Relax. I'm not here to destroy you. Not today. "
She winked. "Maybe later. I'm thinking of giving you a lecture on how acting works"
I glared at her. "For Christ sake Vicky please stop beating around the bush. Can you stop talking in riddles and go straight to your point? I'm too frustrated for this."
She stood, walked to the bar, and poured herself wine. "Want one?"
"Please."
She handed me a glass and sat beside me on the couch crossing one leg over the other. For a moment we just breathed—hers calmly, mine shakily.
"Alright," she said finally. "If you want to save your reputation, you have one option: you go live tonight. I'll sit beside you. I'll bring every radio and TV station. That's our best shot. Besides,how did you think I became an actress the world adores now. It's a strategy and a risk you have to take to succeed,girly"
"My followers…" I murmured, swirling the wine. "They'll be hurt."
She pressed a finger to my lips. "Shh. Don't call those people 'followers' like they matter. Since when did you start caring so much about what the world thinks? These people are cruel darling."
"I know, I'm innocent, Victoria."
She froze. Then burst into mocking laughter.
"Oh my God, where is the real Camila? Who are you and what did you do to my darling girl?An imposter? You're not the Camila I know"
She grabbed my shoulders, turning me left and right as if searching for hidden compartments.
"Old Camila, come out! Someone stole your body and identity! Soon she's also going to steal the love of your life"
"Vicky, stop," I said, rolling my eyes. "I'm still me."
"Are you?" she said sharply, her smile thinning. "Because the Camila I know would never crumble like this. The Camila I know would burn the god-damn world down before letting anyone drag her name through the mud."
My chest tightened at her words—the truth in them.
I wasn't weak. I couldn't be.
I had done worse than the world even suspected. I had removed Elara from our lives without a second thought. I wouldn't hesitate to do it again.
Victoria leaned back, sipping her wine. "Baby girl, those idiots you call 'followers' are nothing as compared to people like us. If you want to be Vance's daughter-in-law… if you still want my brother…" she paused, letting the words sting, "…this is your moment. I am giving you a stage. The Vance princess is offering you a spark. All you have to do is burn like fuck hell. Do what you do best, sweetheart and let them fall for it"
"And what exactly does that mean?" I asked.
"It means," she said patiently, "you smile, wave, and cry your pretty tears. So the world pities you again."
I lifted a fake tear with my fingertip. "Like this?"
Her eyes lit up. "Yes! Perfect. Oscar-worthy. Tonight your makeup must be heavy—foundation thick enough to catch every tear. Mascara that smudges beautifully. People need to see your pain."
She picked up her ringing phone.
"Lily," she snapped, "what is it now?"
"Miss Victoria, invitations are ready. Should I send them?"
"Yes. And make sure everything is flawless."
She ended the call and stood, sliding her sunglasses back on.
"Get your best outfit ready. I'll send details. And remember, sweetheart…"
She paused in the doorway, flashing a dangerous smile.
"Do what you do best. Cry beautifully. Lie convincingly. Wave eloquently. And let the world believe you're innocent."
Then she left—her heels clicking like a countdown to war.