Chapter 4-His Regret

Rosette's point of view~~

The elevator doors began to close, but a figure slipped through at the last second—a man, tall, shadowed, and in suits.

He moved fast, too fast, and the doors shut, trapping us together.

“Who are you?” I demanded, voice sharp, hand gripping my purse like a weapon.

His eyes glinted in the dim light, “Someone who knows who you are. I've come to take you home.”

“Who sent you?”

“Your father, Julio Jenner. He’s been watching you, waiting for you to come back. I’m here to take you to him.”

My breath hitched. My father? All this time, after I’d cut him off, he’d been watching? The sting of guilt mixed with relief.

I’d pushed him away, blaming him for my mother’s untimely death, but now, reborn with the weight of my past life, I needed him.

“Take me to him,” I said, voice steady.

The man—James, he said—nodded. “Let’s go.”

The drive to my father’s estate was silent, the city’s lights blurring past. My hospital gown felt absurd under the jacket that James had given me, but I sat tall, hand on my stomach, protecting my son. This time, I’d keep him safe.

The Jenner mansion loomed, its grandeur a reminder of the life I’d left.

James led me inside. My father stood in the foyer, his stern face softening.

“Rosette,” he said, voice thick. “You’re home.”

Tears burned as I ran to him, his arms wrapping around me. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “For everything.”

“I failed you,” he said, holding tight. “But we start over now.”

We talked for hours, rebuilding what I’d broken. I didn’t tell him about my rebirth or the future I’d seen—too much, even for him.

I spoke of Blake’s betrayal. He listened, his face hardening.

“You’re my heiress,” he said. “It’s time you take your place.”

Weeks blurred into months. I dove into the empire—boardrooms, contracts, strategy.

My father mentored me with fierce pride, and I hid my growing belly under loose dresses, keeping my son a secret from the world.

One rainy afternoon, I stepped out of a café, my dress loose over my six-month pregnant belly. I was heading to a meeting with my father’s advisor when a voice stopped me.

“Rosette?”

My heart lurched. Blake.

I turned, and there he was, under an umbrella, sandy blond hair damp, hazel eyes wide with shock.

He looked thinner, almost fragile, his face etched with confusion.

I didn't wait for him to spill another word. I turned, about to leave.

“Rosette, please,” he said, stepping closer, voice desperate. “I don’t know what I did. I’m still confused even though it's been months. But I’m sorry. Come back to me. Please. I love you.”

I froze, hand covering my stomach. His eyes dropped to my belly, and his brow furrowed.

“You’re… pregnant?” His voice cracked, hurt and bewilderment mixed. “Whose is it? Who’s the father?”

I laughed, cold and sharp. “You think you have the right to ask me that? After everything you did?”

His face crumpled, that college-boy earnestness in his eyes. “What did I do, Rosette? I don’t… I don’t remember. I just know I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

“You loved me?” My voice rose, anger flaring. “Do you really not remember or are you here to mock me?”

“No. I'd never do something like that, believe me. You don't know how long I've been searching for you. Mother told me everything but I still can't believe that I did such terrible things to you. Please give me another chance.”

I stepped closer, voice low and venomous. “You made me your mistress, Blake. How can you say you've forgotten?”

“I really don’t remember, Rosette”, he stammered, reaching for me. “Please, just give me one more chance and I'll fix it. I need you.”

“You need me?” I slapped his hand away. “You’re pathetic. Stay away, Blake. I won't repeat myself.”

“Rosette, wait!” he called, but I turned, slipping into the car that had to come to pick me up.

His lost expression lingered, and no matter how hard I tried to push it out of my head, I just couldn't.

Something was off about him—he wasn’t the same Blake. His confusion felt real.

Back at the estate, I called James. “Investigate Blake McCain. Something’s off. I want to know why he’s acting like he doesn’t remember.”

Days later, the report came: Blake had been in a car accident days after I left, suffering severe head trauma.

He’d woken with amnesia, his memories cut off after college. He didn’t remember Leila, his marriage, or his empire. He only remembered his mother and me—the Rosette from our college days.

Resentment burned hotter.

How dare he forget his betrayal? the pain he’d caused me?

I remembered the hospital, my son’s lifeless body, Leila’s smug whispers, Blake’s indifference.

Amnesia didn’t absolve him. I shoved the report aside, focusing on my son, my empire, my revenge.

~~~~~~~

Months raced by. I gave birth to a healthy boy, Ethan, his tiny face a mirror of mine, with hints of Blake I forced myself to ignore.

Clara, my nanny, cared for him while I worked, her warmth a lifeline. My father, cured of the illness that killed him in my past timeline, glowed with pride as I took over the JJ Empire.

I was no longer a shadow—I was Rosette Jenner, a name that commanded respect. The empire flourished, and I was still rising, my power growing with every deal.

One evening, I prepared for a meeting with a London-based billionaire who rivaled us. The partnership could cement my dominance, and they insisted on meeting at a grand penthouse restaurant overlooking the city.

In a crepe black dress with my figure restored after pregnancy, I felt unstoppable, my violet eyes sharp with purpose.

I stepped into the elevator, a rich scent hitting me—sandalwood and cedar, warm and commanding. Whoever the man who was behind me was, he smelled heavenly.

But my skin prickled, a strange familiarity stirring. The doors began to close when a voice, smooth and deep like velvet, came from behind me.

“Rose.”

Goosebumps raced across my arms. Only one person had ever called me that.

Cesare Llewellyn. My nemesis from college and Blake's ex-best friend.