Novels by Rosee

They said my wife was dead.I didn’t flinch. I didn’t cry. I just sat there, whiskey in my hand, Melissa curled against me when the news broke across the TV screen.“Rachel Williams, wife of CEO Nathan Williams, and rival businessman Dave Collins die in a fatal car crash.”Melissa gasped dramatically, then smirked as the reporter kept talking. “See? The problem solved itself. The deaf wife is finally gone.”I swirled my glass slowly, watching the amber liquid catch the light. A weight lifted off me, one I’d carried for too damn long. Rachel, my liability was out of the picture.“Wow,” I whispered, a grin tugging at my lips. “Just wow. So you ended up dead after all, Rachel.”Melissa laughed, kissing the side of my jaw. “And now nothing stands between us.”I let her cling to me, though in truth, Rachel’s death was more valuable than Melissa’s embrace. Rachel was a problem a woman who tied me down, who reminded me every day that I owed her my life. The kidney, the bullet, her deaf ears

I didn’t go home that night. I couldn’t. I stayed in a hotel, numb, broken, replaying Nathan’s words until they carved wounds deeper than any slap. By morning, I knew. This marriage was dead. When I walked into the house, he was waiting, pacing, his eyes red with fury. The moment he saw me, his voice thundered through the room. “Where the hell have you been, bitch?” I froze. He almost lifted his hands to sign but remembered—I could hear. His words stabbed sharper than knives. I didn’t answer. I dropped the divorce papers on the table. My fingers shook, but my voice didn’t. “Sign.” He blinked, stunned, then smirked like I was some child throwing tantrums. He picked up the pen, twirling it lazily. “You think this scares me? You think you can walk away from me, Rachel? You’ll crawl back like you always do.” I didn't alter a word. His smirk faltered. He leaned closer, eyes burning. “You’re bluffing.” I didn’t move. He slammed the pen down on the paper, scratching

I turned back to my closet, throwing dresses onto the bed. Nothing seemed right. They were either too old, too simple, or too plain. Not one of them could stand against Melissa’s beauty tonight. My hands shook as I held a faded gown against my chest. If I show up in this, they’ll laugh. He’ll laugh. She’ll laugh. The walls pressed in on me, my heart pounding until the sound in my ears was louder than my thoughts. I sat on the edge of the bed, clutching the useless fabric. That was when I heard the sound of a car outside. Dave. The last person I wanted to see at that moment stormed right into my room without knocking. “Dave, what are you doing here again!” I shouted, spinning on him. “How dare you come into a married woman’s room without knocking?” He stood there, his eyes burning, his hands clenched. Then he gave a sharp laugh. “Married? You call this marriage? Rachel, your so-called husband doesn’t even buy you clothes fit for his own parties. He parades another woman a

I barely caught her last words before she disappeared into the hallway. My mind was spinning too violently to process them. All I heard was her laughter echoing against the walls, mocking, sharp, and cruel. It stuck to me like poison, seeping under my skin. Dinner came. I prepared the meal as she smugly signed for me to do, keeping my face neutral, my lips sealed. Nathan sat at the table, Melissa at his side, her laughter filling the room while his hand lingered too long on hers. I ate in silence, every bite heavy, every swallow burning. I didn’t taste the food. I only tasted betrayal. When night fell, I lay awake. Nathan’s side of the bed stayed cold he hadn’t bothered to return. My tears soaked the pillow, but I bit them back, forcing myself to breathe quietly. I couldn’t let them hear me break. Not anymore. The next morning, the house was quiet. Nathan had already left. Melissa, too. I moved like a ghost, cleaning, arranging, making sure everything looked perfect. But my hea

I never thought the day my hearing came back would feel like a curse. One second, there was silence—the kind of hollow quiet I had lived in for five years, where everything was just shapes and gestures, where my husband’s lips moved but never reached my soul. Then, like a glass shattering, sound rushed in. My breath, the hum of the air conditioner, the sharp laugh of another woman. Melissa. I froze in the doorway of the sitting room, my heart pounding so loud I could hear it for the first time in years. She was straddling Nathan’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, her head thrown back as she laughed. And then, I heard his voice. “I love you.” It was like the earth cracked beneath me. My knees weakened. My eyes burned with tears I hadn’t expected, tears that clouded my vision as the first words I’d heard in five years stabbed me deeper than any bullet ever could. I wanted to scream, Nathan! I can hear again! I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him that a m