Chapter 9 – The Ex-Girlfriend

POV: Elena

By the end of the day, I understood something crucial about being Jace Calloway's fiancée.

Everyone had an opinion about it.

I couldn't walk across campus without hearing whispers. Some students stared openly while others pretended not to, only to pull out their phones the second they thought I wasn't looking. More than once, I caught people comparing the photos from Jace's announcement to my actual face as though they were trying to understand what exactly he saw in me.

Unfortunately, I was asking myself the same question. The attention followed me everywhere. It followed me into lectures, where classmates suddenly wanted to sit besides me. It followed me through the library, where someone had apparently posted a picture of me studying with the caption 'Future Mrs Calloway'. It even followed me into the women's restroom, where two girls abruptly stopped talking when I walked through the door.

By the time my final class ended, I was exhausted. I had spent most of my life blending into the background. Now it felt as though the entire university knew my name.

As I stepped outside the business building, my phone vibrated.

Jace: Outside. 

The message was so typically Jace that I rolled my eyes before slipping the phone back into my bag. When I reached the parking lot, I immediately spotted him leaning against his SUV with his arms folded across his chest.

Several girls slowed down as they passed him, and one even waved. Jace barely acknowledged any of them. His attention shifted directly to me the moment I appeared.

"You're late," I frowned. "My class ended four minutes ago." "That's late."

I shook my head and headed towards the passenger side. I was halfway there when a sleek white sports car pulled into the lot and stopped directly in front of us. The driver's door opened, and every muscle in Jace's body visibly tightened. 

A blonde woman stepped out. She was beautiful in the effortless way that made magazine covers look attainable. Her designer outfit probably cost more than my entire wardrobe, and the confidence in her posture suggested she had never doubted her place in any room she entered.

When she removed her sunglasses, I recognised her immediately.

Camille.

I had seen pictures online, but none of them had prepared me for seeing her in person. More importantly, none of them had captured the fury burning in her eyes. Her gaze moved from Jace to me before settling on the ring glittering on my finger. A humourless laugh escaped her. "So it's true." Jace's expression hardened. "What are you doing here?"

Camille ignored him completely. Her attention remained fixed on me, making me feel uncomfortably exposed.

This was the woman who had dated Jace for years. The woman who knew him better than anyone. The woman whose threats had pushed him into blackmailing me in the first place. And judging from the look on her face, she already hated me.

She crossed her arms and tilted her head slightly. "Tell me something, Elena. Did he blackmail you before or after he proposed?" My heart nearly stopped. For one terrifying second, I was convinced she somehow knew the truth.

Besides me, Jace went completely still. Camille noticed immediately. The satisfaction that flashed across her face made my stomach tighten. "What exactly are you trying to say?" I asked carefully. Her smile widened. "I'm saying that people like Jace don't suddenly fall in love overnight." The statement landed harder than it should have. Because despite everything, she wasn't entirely wrong.

The ring on my finger wasn't proof of love. It was proof of manipulation, desperation, and a lie that was already spiralling far beyond my control. 

The silence stretched between us until Jace stepped forward and wrapped an arm around my waist. The gesture looked natural enough that anyone watching would have assumed it was affectionate. I knew better.

"You're done here, Camille." His voice remained calm, but there was a sharp edge beneath it. Camille looked from him to me and then back again.

For a brief moment, something unreadable crossed her face. Then she laughed softly and shook her head.

"Good luck, Elena." The words sounded less like an insult and more like a warning. Without another glance in our direction, she turned and walked back to her car. A few seconds later, the engine roared to life and the vehicle disappeared from the parking lot.

The knot in my stomach remained long after she was gone. Because that conversation hadn't felt like a jealous ex confronting her replacement. It felt like the opening move in a war. And somehow, I knew Camille was far from finished.