The Divorced Heiress Takes The Crown

Camilla stood in the center of the dining room inside the Stark penthouse. She adjusted the dark red roses in the crystal vase for the fourth time.

Her fingertips lightly traced the smooth, cold edge of the pristine white porcelain plates. She kept glancing toward the heavy oak door. Her stomach fluttered. A small, nervous smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Tonight was their anniversary.

The heavy lock on the front door clicked.

Camilla immediately stood up straight. She smoothed down the fabric of her black dress. The smile on her face bloomed fully, bright and hopeful.

The smile froze the second Carlisle walked in.

His face was completely blank. His jaw was clenched tight. He didn't even look at her.

Carlisle walked straight past the dining table. He went directly to the glass liquor cabinet. He poured a heavy measure of whiskey into a glass. He threw it back in one swallow.

The sound of the ice cubes hitting the glass was sharp and loud in the quiet room.

Camilla swallowed hard. Her throat felt tight. She tried to soften the heavy air in the room.

"Carlisle, you're home," she said softly. "I made your favorite-"

Carlisle cut her off. He threw a thick manila envelope onto the dining table.

The envelope slid across the polished wood. It hit the crystal vase. Water sloshed over the rim and spilled onto the expensive linen tablecloth.

Camilla scrambled to wipe up the water. Her fingertips brushed against the cold, stiff paper of the envelope.

Without thinking, she pulled the document out.

Her eyes scanned the bold black letters at the top: Marital Settlement Agreement.

Her pupils shrank. The blood in her veins turned to ice. Her lungs forgot how to pull in air.

Carlisle's voice sliced through the room like a cold knife.

"Sign it. Celine is back. There's no place for you here anymore."

Camilla's head snapped up. She stared at him. Her chest heaved. Her lips trembled so hard she could barely form the words.

"Celine?" she whispered. "Your... first love? But we're married..."

Carlisle let out a harsh scoff. He adjusted his expensive silver cufflink. His eyes were full of disgust.

"A mistake I'm correcting tonight," he said. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Carlisle's phone buzzed briefly in his inside pocket. He pulled it out, his eyes scanning a text message from his mother: We are downstairs, coming up now. A cold, calculated look crossed his face as he slipped the phone away, silently orchestrating this final humiliation. Before Camilla could process the pain twisting in her gut, the front door was shoved open again.

Diane Ballard and Billie Stark marched into the penthouse. They looked like sharks smelling blood in the water. Cruel smiles stretched across their faces.

Diane's sharp voice echoed immediately.

"Oh, Carlisle, finally! We thought you'd never get rid of this gold-digger."

Billie crossed her arms and walked slowly around the dining table. She rolled her eyes, looking