Chapter 8 Interrogating Rose

Henry POV

Because of this meeting, I got late. Sam must be waiting for me. She would be furious—she never wanted to attend this conference in the first place. The rain was making it all the more difficult to drive. The street shimmered with reflections of neon signs, broken by the steady splash of the wipers swiping back and forth.

As I neared the hotel, a blur caught my eye through the windshield.

I hit the brakes hard, the tires skidding for a fraction of a second before gripping again.

She was lying on the slick pavement, her hair spread in a wet halo. Liam crouched beside her, his shoulders hunched against the rain. Rose was on the other side, patting Samantha’s cheek—quick, mechanical motions, as if she wanted the appearance of helping but not the effort.

“Come on, wake up,” Rose murmured, her voice sugar-sweet and far too calm for the moment.

My gut clenched. I was out of the car before the door swung fully open, the cold rain soaking through my jacket in seconds.

“What the hell happened?”

Rose’s gaze flicked away for a heartbeat before meeting mine. “Who are you? Why should I answer you?”

“I’m her uncle, and you are answerable to me. What happened?” My voice came out sharper than intended, but I didn’t care.

I had seen her helpless before—barely conscious, hooked up to IV lines in a hospital bed, her skin ghostly against the white sheets. That image struck me now, raw and uninvited, sending a jolt of rage through me.

“I invited her for drinks. She… had a couple. Maybe it was too much—” Rose said, almost defensively.

“Drinks?” The word came out like a slap. “You took her drinking? She just got out of the hospital! She’s still on medication—do you have any idea what alcohol can do to her right now?” My voice cracked with anger.

Rose straightened, her chin lifting slightly. “It wasn’t like that—”

“And you,” I turned on Liam, “you couldn’t stop her?”

Rainwater ran down his jaw as he stood. “I didn’t know she wasn’t well enough—”

“Both of you should’ve known better,” I snapped. A few people slowed under their umbrellas to watch, the murmur of voices mixing with the rain. I swallowed the next outburst—this wasn’t the place to make her humiliation worse.

Before I could ask them to help me, Samantha stirred faintly, her lips parting in a soft sound. I knelt, brushing damp strands of hair from her cold face. Her face was too cold to my liking.

“Get her to the car,” I ordered, my tone brooking no argument.

Liam POV – Later

The wipers slapped rhythmically against the windshield, the world outside blurred into streaks of grey and neon. Rose sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms folded, her perfume sharp even through the damp air.

“You didn’t have to let him talk to me like that,” she said finally, her voice smooth but edged with resentment.

“You didn’t have to give her alcohol,” I replied, keeping my eyes on the road. My grip on the steering wheel tightened until my knuckles whitened.

“I didn’t force her. She’s not a child, Liam.” Her voice dipped with arrogance.

“No,” I said, jaw tight, “but she’s not like you think.”

Her lips curled in a faint, dismissive smile. “Oh, I think I know her well enough. Girls like her always want to be the centre of attention—and will go to any lengths to get it.”

“She’s not like that.” The words came out quicker than I expected, my voice lower now.

Rose turned to look at me, eyes narrowing slightly. “As if you know her that well.”

Silence filled the car, heavy and tense. Only the thud of the wipers and the low hum of the engine kept it from being unbearable.

I pulled up in front of her building. The streetlamp above cast a pale yellow light, catching the raindrops clinging to her hair. She stayed in her seat for a moment, clearly expecting me to say something—anything—that would soften the mood.

I didn’t.

Her heels clicked sharply against the wet pavement as she stepped out, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary. I waited until she disappeared into the building before leaning back in my seat, my fingers drumming absently on the wheel.

Samantha’s pale face kept flashing in my mind. The sound of her uneven breathing. The way her head had lolled when Henry lifted her.

I told myself it was guilt that made my chest feel tight.

But I knew it wasn’t only that. And as I drove away, I realised something I shouldn’t have—

Her face hadn’t left my mind since the moment I saw her again.