Chapter 4

An hour later, Rosalie arrived at Seaforth Club. The second she pushed open the private room door, her gaze landed on Nina perched beside Brandon.

Nina wore sunglasses and a hat, bundled up like she was trying to hide from the world. She dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief.

Brandon kept his distance from Nina, but Rosalie could still see the worry in his eyes.

He didn't even notice the bandages wrapped around Rosalie's head. He might not have realized she was there if she hadn't spoken up.

"Why'd you call me here?" Rosalie muttered.

Brandon finally turned to look at her, his eyes locking on hers as his forehead creased in a frown. "Did you call the reporters this morning?"

Rosalie went still. Her gaze flicked instinctively toward Nina, who had already removed her sunglasses. The bruise around her left eye was now visible.

When Rosalie remained silent, Brandon's disappointment deepened. "I had someone track the call made to those reporters. It came from your number. They confirmed a woman tipped them off about a huge story. That's why they swarmed Searle Manor. Do you even realize how far you've crossed the line? One of them barged in for a photo, and his camera slammed right into her eye."

Nina cut in, "Drop it, Brandon. Maybe we were wrong about Rosalie. Why would she work with the media to slander me?"

Brandon's gaze turned frosty as he stared Rosalie down. "Was it you or not?"

Rosalie had only told them the truth. What was so bad about that? Her lips curled into a bitter smile. She had spent the entire night alone in the hospital, nursing the head wound Brandon had given her. Had he even bothered to check on her?

Now here she was, right before him, and he didn't give a damn. But the moment Nina shed a few tears, he was suddenly grilling Rosalie like a criminal. Another sharp crack splintered through Rosalie's heart.

"If you weren't at Searle Manor, how would you know all this so well?" she shot back.

Brandon's expression went cold.

Rosalie didn't let up. "If you're calling it slander, then you must think Nina's innocent. Or do you actually believe she'd find another man shortly after your father died?"

His gaze turned dark. "Don't be ridiculous. She'd never do something that stupid."

Nina jumped in quickly, saying, "Rosalie, don't get the wrong idea. These reporters will spin anything for a headline. Brandon's only looking out for the Searle family name. He's already spent a small fortune keeping those reporters quiet. Nothing damaging will get published."

Rosalie bit her lip, keeping quiet.

Nina had already won the bet, but that didn't stop her from throwing Brandon's favoritism in Rosalie's face in the last ten days before Rosalie left.

The only thing Rosalie was grateful for was having signed the divorce agreement. At least she wouldn't have to suffer this humiliation every single day from now on.

"Alright, let's drop today's matter," Nina said before changing the subject. "Rosalie, what happened to your head?"

Rosalie didn't respond.

Brandon glanced at her. "She must've bumped into something."

"The wound's bleeding, though. I'll get someone to bring fresh bandages."

With that, Nina strode out of the private room.

When only Rosalie and Brandon were left, he sighed and said, "Whether you called the media or not, I want you to stop going after Nina and doubting her. She's already in a tough spot without her husband to support her."

Rosalie's fists clenched tightly. And what about her own husband? Who was he supporting?

"Regardless, she's still my stepmom. I'll appreciate it if you treat her well," Brandon added, gently taking her hand. "Be kind to her, and I'll be even kinder to you."

Rosalie couldn't stop the bitterness that twisted inside her as the words tumbled out. "Have you ever thought of me as your wife, Brandon?"

"Of course."

"Then why would you let your wife suffer like this?"

Before Brandon could answer, a frantic shout cut through the air from outside the private room. "Everyone, out! There's a fire!"

Brandon tensed up, immediately dropping Rosalie's hand before darting outside.