The Rose He Killed novel Chapter 277

Chapter 245: Camille’s Last Move

Camille POV

I watched the announcement Jand across my phone screen three times before I set it down. My coffee sat on the table in front of me, slowly going cold.

I had spent years positioning myself beside Qlivier.

I built my whole life around becoming the Marchetti matriarch and standing by his side. Every choice and every move I made was for that one goal. When Bella first arrived, I told myself nothing had changed. She was just a sister-a small problem I could easily handle.

But lately, Olivier hasn’t been answering my calls as fast as before. Whenever Bella’s name came up, he talked too carefully, like a man changing sides. Now, this headline was staring at me-a board seat, a public archive, and Sebastien’s name right next to hers in a press release that looked like a victory lap.

My fingers shook a little as I picked up the phone. I couldn’t just sit here and lose my future. I scrolled through my contacts until I found Jean-Luc. He was a top journalist for a big Paris gossip paper. He owed me favors and never asked questions.

I called him, and he answered on the second ring.

“Camille,” Jean-Luc said, his voice loud over the line. “I assume you are calling about the Marchetti news?”

“I am,” I said, keeping my voice low and smooth. “And I have the real story for you, Jean-Luc. If you want it.”

“Go on,” he said, and I could hear the scratching of a pen on paper.

“Bella Black is not just a long-lost daughter,” I whispered, leaning forward on the table. “She conveniently appeared at the exact moment of Sebastien Marchetti’s deepest grief. She is exploiting an old man’s emotional vulnerability. She used her mother’s memory to force her way into a business strategy. It is far too sophisticated to be a coincidence.”

“An emotional trap,” Jean-Luc murmured. “The grieving billionaire and the greedy daughter. It is a very good story, Camille. It has just enough truth to work, and enough venom to do real damage. I will draft it now.”

“Make sure it runs on the front page tomorrow,” I said, and hung up.

The next morning, I woke up early and grabbed my laptop before I even poured my tea. I opened the homepage for Jean-Luc’s paper, scrolling down the main page with a tight, expectant smile. Nothing. I refreshed the browser, but the headlines remained exactly the same-local politics, a sports strike, and international trade news.

There was no mention of Bella Black, no mention of an emotional trap, and no mention of the Marchetti

group.

My pulse began to quicken. I pulled up three other major gossip sites, but my story was completely

absent.

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Chapter 245 melle’s Last Mar

-grabbed my phone and dialed Jean-Luc’s private number. It went straight to voicemail. I waited ten minutes, my chest tightening with a deep, cold panic, and dialed him again. On the fourth try, the line

finally clicked open.

“Jean-Luc,” I demanded, stepping into the center of my living room. “Where is the article? It was supposed to be the front-page lead today. Why haven’t you posted it?”

“Camille,” Jean-Luc said, his voice dropping into a harsh, hurried whisper. “Do not call this number again.”

“What are you talking about?” I snapped, my fingers digging into the sides of my phone casing. “We had an agreement. You told me it was a perfect story, you owed me.”

“The agreement is dead,” he hissed, sounding genuinely terrified. “Olivier Marchetti’s legal team personally visited my managing editor last night before the ink even dried on the draft. They had a full file on my personal banking records, Camille. They threatened to bury this paper in lawsuits and ruin my career by morning if a single word of your story saw the light of day.”

“You are a senior journalist!” I shouted, my voice cracking with desperation. “You cannot let them bully you like this!”

“Listen to me very carefully,” Jean-Luc said, his tone turning cold and flat. “Olivier knows exactly where the leak came from, he has you trapped. Do not call me, do not sss me, and never speak my name to anyone ever again. We are completely finished.”

Before I could utter another syllable, the line cut out with a sharp click. I stared down at the dark screen, my breath catching in my throat as the silence of the empty room closed in around me.

How dare Olivier tap my phone. How dare that total idiot treat me like a criminal.

I had spent the last few days on a short trip just outside the city, staying at a boutique hotel to clear my head and plan my next corporate moves.

I landed back in Paris on Thursday evening. I knew Olivier would be back at his Paris apartment by then to handle the release roll-out.

I drove straight from the airport to his building, still furious, ready to confront him. I didn’t even drop my travel bags off at my own apartment first.

When I reached his floor, I used my spare key to unlock the door and marched right inside, ready to scream. But the words caught in my throat the moment the heavy wood door clicked shut behind me.

The air felt heavy and cold. Olivier stood by the kitchen counter, his face completely blank. He did not look surprised to see me, and he did not look angry, which made it worse. He looked like a judge.

Right next to his feet on the floor sat the two designer weekend bags I usually kept in his guest closet, zipped up tight.

He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a stack of papers, and laid them flat on the kitchen counter between us.

I stepped closer and looked down. My chest tightened. They were my private text messages, my call logs, and Jean-Luc’s name was circled in thick, black ink right in Olivier’s own handwriting.

“You went to him directly,” Olivier said. “After everything, Camille. After I explicitly told you to leave it

Chapter 245 elle : Lost Mere

alone

Clam

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