All Chapters of From Dust to Ashes: A scorned Bride : Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

Camilla.The mirror didn’t lie.Not this time.I stared at the woman who stared back. My skin, usually warm-toned, was paler now, softened by the prosthetics glued with surgical precision to my cheekbones and jawline. My once jet-black curls had been transformed into icy blonde waves, cascading down my shoulders in effortless perfection. Contact lenses shifted the hue of my eyes from deep brown to stormy grey. My voice, now smoky, lilting, unfamiliar had taken me days of practice to perfect.“Say it again,” Carol said from behind me.I closed my eyes for a second, then whispered, “My name is Ivory.”“Louder. With purpose.”“My name is Ivory.” I opened my eyes and met hers through the reflection. “Grey leaned against the wall, arms folded. His jaw was tight, as usual.“You don’t just look different,” he murmured. “You are different.”I stood slowly, running my fingers down the soft silk of the white blouse Carol had chosen for me clean, sharp lines. Ivory on ivory.“Everything about y

Camilla.I stood at Julia’s front door, frozen, like some fool waiting for a sign from the universe. Ten whole minutes. That’s how long I’d been standing there, pretending to be calm. I’d even tried that breathing trick Carol swore by, deep inhale through the nose, hold, slow exhale through the mouth. Supposed to be calming. Supposed to reset the nervous system.Didn’t do a damn thing for the inferno inside me.Every part of me screamed to walk away, to run. My hand hovered near the doorbell, then fell. I couldn't bring myself to press it. I stared at the stained glass of Julia's door like it held answers. Like I might see her face behind it. Just thinking about her made my jaw clench so tight it ached.Julia.I could feel the old rage crawling up my spine like a cold wind. My fists were tight at my sides, nails digging into my palm.Then came the hand on my shoulder.“Jesus!” I flinched and turned, nearly elbowing Carol in the face.“Relax, it’s just me.” Carol gave me a side-eye and

Julia.I hated how hot it was today. Even in my best silk dress, I could feel sweat prickling under my arms, but I smiled anyway. Cameras were everywhere, and I could already hear Ivory’s voice echoing in my mind “This is how it starts. This is how you build public love. And before you know it, you're so famous and powerful.”I adjusted the hem of my dress and gave a nod to my camera guy, Brian.“Get this angle,” I told him, crouching slightly to hug one of the kids in front of the donation banner. “Make sure you capture their smiles. Not just mine.”He gave a thumbs-up and kept snapping. I patted the boy’s head gently and handed him the backpack full of supplies. He lit up, his grin wide, missing teeth and all.Ivory and the other club members flitted around me, all draped in pastels, all cooing and posing like porcelain dolls for photos. The charity center buzzed with laughter and camera shutters. I waved over Brian again.“Post the group pictures. Caption it something warm… maybe s

Julia.I stared at the contract papers on the coffee table, the words blurring together like smoke. My ears still rang from the sound of the boardroom gavel, echoing Camilla’s voice as she announced the takeover. Hostile acquisition complete. Just like that, everything I had worked for was gone."She played me," I whispered, the bitter taste of betrayal crawling up my throat. My hands trembled. I pushed myself up from the couch and stumbled into the kitchen. My mother, Georgina, hadn’t said a word since she saw the photo an hour ago. She stood by the window, staring out like a statue carved from rage and disappointment.I poured two glasses of water, one for her, one for me. My heart thudded in my chest like a war drum as I walked over to her. "Here," I said softly, offering the glass.She turned slowly, eyes bloodshot, lips pressed into a thin line. I could see it in her gaze, that seething disappointment, the kind that pierced deeper than any insult."You idiot," she spat, snatching

Grey.I was sitting on the edge of the hard bench, staring down at the floor, trying to keep calm. My wrists rested on my knees, and I breathed slowly—like my therapist had taught me. One breath in, hold it, let it out. Repeat. Keep from spiraling.The officer’s shadow fell across the bars.“You’ve got visitors,” he said, unlocking the gate with a sharp click.My head jerked up. Visitors? Before I could say a word, he stepped inside and clipped the cuffs around my wrists.“Standard protocol,” he muttered.I didn’t protest. My thoughts were already racing. Camilla. Please let it be her.He led me down the hall. My boots scuffed against the concrete, each step heavy, each second dragging. We turned a corner, and I caught a glimpse through the narrow window of the visitation room. My breath caught.Bryce. Carol. And my lawyer. And obviously Camilla was not here.As soon as I was seated, I leaned forward. “Where is she?” My voice was low but tense. “Where’s Camilla?”Bryce shifted uncomfo