The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 11 - チャプター 20

The cold night air bit sharp at Duke Cedric Fleming’s cheeks as the sleek black helicopter touched down on the rooftop helipad of the Aurora Crown Hotel. Wind from the blades whipped his coat and tousled his hair, but he was already unbuckling and jumping out before the pilot fully powered down. There was no time to waste.He pulled out the secured fire escape passkey, known as the emergency stairwell access, and sprinted down the steel staircase, boots thudding softly against concrete. He had memorized the layout of this hotel during a past acquisition bid. His gut clenched tighter with every step, haunted by the warning his sources had given him: Seth isn’t throwing this engagement party just for show. Something’s planned, something sick.On the 9th floor landing, Duke came to an abrupt halt. There were voices. Rough, low, and reeking of smoke and ill intent. “…I’m telling you, bro, it’s a dream job! We get paid and we get to have some fun. First go’s mine.” “Bullsh*t! It’s my vial

The truth hides in silence, and sometimes… silence screams louder than words.A soft breeze caressed the drapes, and golden morning sun rays filtered through the sheer curtains of room 809, warming the opulent suite in hues colourful hues. The room held the faintest scent of lavender and something darker, the desire lingering like smoke in a room after the fire has died out.Arla-Rosa stirred, the silk sheets tangled between her legs. Her lashes fluttered open slowly, and for a brief moment, she didn’t know where she was. Then the ache settled in. Her thighs throbbed. Her lower back felt sore. A dull pressure pulsed through her temples. As she sat up, a sharp stab of pain between her legs made her gasp.Confused, she looked down at herself. The sheets beneath her bore faint traces of dried blood. Her nightdress lay in a heap near the chaise lounge, its straps askew. Deep maroon bruises, no, hickeys, dotted her collarbone and the side of her neck. Her skin felt overly sensitive, as tho

"Dr. Arla-Rosa, we have a spinal trauma emergency, motor accident, mid-30s male, unstable vitals, possible vertebral column fracture!" The voice on the phone was crisp, urgent, and from the First People’s Hospital. Arla-Rosa’s eyes sharpened immediately."Prepare the OR. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Also, call Master Ye, I want him to assist," she replied, already moving as she disconnected. Master Ye was in the herbal garden when she reached him. "We’re scrubbing in," she told him simply. A flicker of pride crossed the old man’s face as he grabbed his coat. “Lead the way, Chief.”The operation theater was abuzz when they arrived. The patient’s vitals were dipping, the pressure in the room was tense. All heads turned when Arla-Rosa stepped in, dressed in her scrubs, gloves already pulled tight. Confidence radiated off her in steady waves.“Let’s not waste time. He’s got a burst fracture at T12, likely fragment compression. We’ll go posterior approach. Master Ye, I’ll need you on t

The morning mist still clung to the streets of Brilliant City when Arla-Rosa arrived at Master Ye’s Apothecary, a quaint, wooden building nestled between towering glass clinics. The sliding doors creaked open to release the familiar scent of sandalwood, crushed ginseng, and old parchment.She found Master Ye seated by the herbal station, grinding licorice root with steady hands. He didn’t look up as he spoke. “You came faster than I expected.” “I thought something was wrong,” Arla-Rosa said, shrugging off her coat. “You never call me this early.” He finally looked up. His usually serene eyes carried something… heavier.“There’s been an emergency,” he said. “In Country Z. My old friend’s son, he was in a major accident. They’ve done all they can. But there’s spinal swelling. Internal trauma. They believe I may be the last chance.” Arla-Rosa’s fingers tightened around the edge of the counter. “When are you leaving?” “This afternoon.” She swallowed. “You want me to take over the apotheca

A Mother's WarThe tension she felt outside the Robinson estate felt heavier than the silence in that study. Arla-Rosa stepped into the car, her limbs moving on autopilot. Her fingers curled around the pendant at her neck, a gift from Master Ye, strung on a crimson cord. It pulsed faintly against her chest, but she barely noticed.Her phone buzzed and it was a message from Seth: Clinic appointment scheduled. Tomorrow. 9 AM. No explanation. No apology. Just a sentence that sentenced her child. She read it three times. Then deleted it. The car drove on. Past glittering streets. Past lives that seemed easier, lighter. Her own reflection in the window looked ghostly, pale, hollow-eyed, a young woman worn thin.When she got back to her apartment, she locked the door and finally allowed herself to collapse. Her legs gave out, and she crumpled onto the rug, arms wrapped around her midsection. Her hands trembled as she pressed against the soft swell just beginning to form beneath her dress. W