Chapter 7 - The Unraveling of Camilla
Across the city, far away from the glittering heights of the Marchetti penthouse, Camilla Ashford sat in the dimly lit living room of a modest suburban apartment her father had been forced to rent after downsizing their estate.
Her designer clothes were packed into plastic storage bins; her luxury sports car had been repossessed by the bank two days prior.
The television was tuned to a financial news channel, replaying footage of the Ashford Logistics acquisition. On the screen, a blurry photograph of Adeline Croft stepping out of a black town car beside Enzo Marchetti flashed across the monitor.
Camilla stared at the screen, her fingernails digging deep into the fabric of the sofa cushion.
“It was supposed to be me,” she whispered, her voice cracking with manic fury. “She’s a maid. A nobody from the docks. She stole my life!”
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She grabbed a heavy crystal ash tray from the coffee table and hurled it directly at the television screen, shattering the display into a spiderweb of dead pixels. But breaking the screen didn't bring back her status, her wealth, or the man who had discarded her without a second thought.
She was entirely, permanently ruined.
