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Chapter 68: Calculations and Cracks of Light
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2025-09-26 12:44:16
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Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 68: Calculations and Cracks of Light
Vincent at the WindowVincent Marino stood in silence at the wide window of his office. The city stretched before him, a constellation of light and shadow. Garden Metro glittered as though it were unshaken, but he knew better. He could feel the tremor in its rhythm, the tension in its heartbeat. Cassidy’s poison had seeped into every crevice, and now the whole city carried the taste of suspicion.On his desk lay reports and clippings. Each headline sang the same tune: Elara Quinn was guilty. Fraud. Smuggler. The papers stopped just short of declaring her convicted, but the language left no room for innocence. “Alleged.” “Anonymous sources.” “Unverified evidence.” Words that were daggers without edges, slicing reputation instead of flesh.Vincent picked one up and skimmed it again, though he knew it by heart. The photographs, the numbers, the testimony — all carefully placed, too precise to be coincidence. Cassidy Quinn’s handiwork was all over it. He could almost see her smirk behind
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 67: The Watcher in the Shadows
Vincent Marino had always trusted silence more than words.Noise distracted, but silence revealed. Silence taught him which men cracked under pressure, which women hid knives behind their smiles, and which enemies were clever enough to wait in the dark rather than strike too soon. He had built his empire in Garden Metro by listening more than speaking, by letting silence expose the weaknesses of others.And so, as the city whispered Elara Quinn’s name like a curse, Vincent did not rush to defend her. He did not storm the council chambers or silence the press with threats. He watched. He listened.And in silence, he measured.The Poison in PrintOn his desk lay a neat stack of newspapers, their ink still sharp with the morning’s print.Council Probes Protégé Over Alleged Misconduct. Dockside Dealings Raise Questions About Marino’s Inner Circle. The Wounded Rose Wilts: Sympathy Sour for Elara Quinn.The words were sharp, deliberately chosen to bleed. Vincent flipped through each page
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 66: Quiet After the Storm
The estate was too quiet.Elara woke before dawn, though she hadn’t slept more than a few scattered hours. Her dreams had been fractured things, filled with voices calling her name, faces turning toward her, whispers swelling like a tide she couldn’t escape. Every time she jerked awake, her body was slick with sweat, her heart racing, her throat tight.When the pale glow of morning crept past her curtains, she sat up and pressed her forehead against her knees. The notebook on the nightstand caught her eye — yesterday’s page still open, the ink smudged slightly where her tears had fallen.Today I stood. My voice trembled, but it was mine.She traced the line with her fingertip, as though it might vanish if she looked away. She barely believed those words belonged to her. And yet… they did.Breakfast with DamienBy the time she made her way to the dining hall, the smell of coffee and toasted bread drifted faintly in the air. The long table stretched emptily, save for Damien seated at on
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 65: Among Strangers
The air outside the estate felt heavier than Elara remembered.For two days she had hidden in her room, her body curled around notebooks and tears, clinging to the ember of strength she had fought to keep alive. But now Lena stood in her doorway, arms crossed, determination in her eyes.“You can’t stay locked up forever,” Lena said. “The longer you hide, the more you let Cassidy win. Come with me.”Elara’s heart thudded painfully. “Where?”“Into town. Just for groceries.” Lena held up two canvas bags, dangling them like bait. “Normal life.”Elara almost laughed — bitterly. “Normal doesn’t exist for me anymore. Not after…” Her words trailed off, choked by the memory of headlines and whispers.“Then we’ll make it exist,” Lena replied firmly. “You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to explain. You just have to walk beside me.”Elara hesitated, gripping the notebook in her hand until her knuckles whitened. The thought of strangers’ eyes burned her skin already. But hiding forever wasn’t a
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 64: Stepping Into the Light
The sun had risen high by the time Elara finally stirred from her room. Her body felt heavy, her limbs leaden from a night of restless thoughts and tear-stained pages. For hours, she had sat staring at the notebook, rereading the words she’d forced onto paper: I refuse to stop breathing.The ember inside her still flickered, faint but steady. It was enough to drag her to her feet.When she opened her door, the hallway seemed sharper, brighter than it had before. The murmur of voices downstairs carried faintly upward. She hesitated, clutching the notebook to her chest. What if they all looked at her with suspicion? What if even the people inside this house believed Cassidy’s lies?A soft knock startled her.“Elara?” It was Lena’s voice, gentle but firm. “Come with me. Please.”Elara closed her eyes briefly, then opened the door.Lena’s relief was obvious in the way her smile bloomed. “There you are. I was starting to think you’d never come out.”Elara gave a weak shrug. “I wasn’t sure
Wounded Rose of Garden Metro Chapter 63: Shattered Glass, Steady Flame
The estate felt like a cage.For days, Elara had trained in the gymnasium, walked through the gardens, and written in her notebook with a cautious, growing sense of control. Now, the moment the news hit, the air itself seemed poisoned. Every corridor felt tighter, every shadow longer.She didn’t leave her room.The curtains stayed drawn, suffocating the daylight. The lamp on her desk was the only glow in the dim space, throwing soft pools of light against the pale walls. Her notebook sat open, pen resting across the page, but she couldn’t bring herself to write more than a line.The headlines haunted her instead. Fraud. Smuggler. Vincent’s pet. Each word carved into her mind like glass.She’d read them until her vision blurred. She couldn’t stop herself. Every click had been a wound. Every article repeated the same poison Cassidy had brewed. And the comments… they were worse than the lies.“She fooled everyone.” “Knew she was too quiet, too perfect.” “Trash wearing a borrowed crown.
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