บททั้งหมดของ The Phoenix Bride Rises: Trust Was Her First Mistake : บทที่ 61 - บทที่ 70

The city lights of Country N sprawled beneath the aircraft like scattered stars. Rosa pressed her hand against the cabin window, heart fluttering. The skyline was foreign, gleaming spires, endless neon veins of traffic, and digital screens that blinked with the pulse of progress. Here, no one knew the name Arla-Rosa Hernandez. Here, her past could not follow her.The flight attendant passed by, offering a soft smile. Rosa nodded politely but quickly turned back to the window, her fingers tightening around the jade pendant hanging on a leather string around her neck. Cedric’s heirloom… a silent reminder of a chapter she was determined to close. She was beginning again. A new name. A new purpose. A new life. Inside her, the twin heartbeats beat softly, fragile, yet full of promise.It was almost midnight when she stepped out of the airport. The wind smelled different in Country N. It was cleaner, crisper, with a whisper of salt from the distant sea. The driver holding her name, Dr. Rosa

In the heart of Country N, the prestigious St. Elaria Medical Complex buzzed with cases too complex for the average mind. But in a modest, window-filled corner of its ancient east wing, a quiet legend was forming. Here, “Dr. Rosa” had become both mystery and miracle.Seven months pregnant and cloaked in loose scrubs, she walked lightly through the halls, clipboard in hand, her pace never hurried, her eyes always calm. No one questioned her brilliance anymore, not after she had pulled fifteen patients back from the edge using nothing but her hands, needles, and what they mockingly called “witch leaves.” But only she knew the truth.Each soul she healed, every last one of them, was a step closer to redemption. Her rebirth had come with a cruel clause: save 100 forsaken lives in the medical world, lives abandoned by science, deemed “untreatable.” Do it within a year… or lose your second chance forever. And in the three months she had wasted in County D, caged in labs and politics, she ha

The world remembered Dr. Rosa for saving lives. But the markets… whispered another name. Midas. The elusive prodigy who, before even graduating medical school in her first life, had flipped penny stocks into goldmines, collapsed bloated empires, and quietly built a digital fortress of wealth. Back then, she had used her gift to support Seth, believing love was a partnership of sacrifice. And it cost her everything. Now, in this second life, she had no intentions of making the same mistake.In the quiet hours after the twins had fallen asleep, Rosa stood before a row of screens, four in total. They were hidden behind an armoire in the guest room of her apartment, which doubled as her tech hub.Green, red, flickering candlesticks danced across the screens. Currency flows, interest rates, stock patterns, biotech indices. Her fingers moved like water, flipping between algorithm triggers and macroeconomic signals. But her face, cool, unchanging, betrayed no emotion. The market was war. She

The morning fog lay thick over the sprawling city of Country D, its tendrils curling around the rooftops and weaving through the trees like reluctant shadows. Inside the high walls of the Fleming Palace, a suffocating silence blanketed the halls, disturbed only by the measured shuffle of nurses and doctors.Duke Cedric Fleming stood at the edge of the duchess's hospital bed, his towering figure rigid, hands clasped behind his back. His usual poise, cold and aloof, had shattered under the magnitude of his worry. The duchess, his mother, lay unconscious, hooked up to machines that beeped faintly in a losing battle against death. The most elite specialists in the country had tried, failed, and withdrawn.He stared down at her pale, almost translucent face. Once a formidable woman who controlled high society with just a look, she now resembled a fragile porcelain figure, chipped and fading. "Her vitals are unstable again," the head physician murmured from the doorway, eyes downcast. "We'v

The rain didn’t stop the next morning. A thin mist clung to the windowpanes of Arla-Rosa’s temporary quarters at Fleming House of Hope, softening the edges of the world outside. The clouds rolled like a restless ocean above the gleaming towers of Brilliant City, veiling it in an almost mournful gray. But inside her room, everything was still. She stood at the window, arms folded across her chest, gazing at a skyline that had once felt like a cage. The palace glittered faintly in the distance, silent, imposing, eternal. She was back. Not as the Duke’s shadow or the naive girl desperately clinging to love. No. She had returned as Doctor Rosa, a force in her own right, bound by duty, not desire. A soft knock broke her thoughts. “Come in,” she said calmly. Nurse Eline, the one assistant Rosa had selected for this mission, stepped in with a warm smile. “The Duchess has stabilized. Her blood pressure’s responding. And... she asked for you.” Arla-Rosa nodded and turned to pick up her whit