All Chapters of His Beauty Her Beast: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Elena's POVI hadn’t really slept.Every time I closed my eyes, fragments of last night flashed behind them — Rowan’s voice, the way his hands had felt against my skin, the look in his eyes right before everything went blurry.It was supposed to mean nothing.It was supposed to be an accident of heat and proximity and too many unspoken things.But nothing about the way my heart still raced felt accidental.By the time morning rolled around, the storm outside had broken into a bright, mocking sunlight. The air smelt fresh, almost too clean, as if the world hadn’t noticed the mess inside me.Rowan left early — some meeting, some file, something that apparently couldn’t wait.And I… I came to the office because hiding in our room felt worse.Now, sitting behind my desk, I tried to look normal. Focused. Professional.I typed a few lines of an email, reread them, deleted them, then stared at the blinking cursor until my reflection blurred against the glass wall across from me.God, what wa

Elena's POVI don’t know what I expected when that door opened.Maybe not warmth, not forgiveness — but something. A flicker. A moment. A chance.But instead, I got that same coldness that used to freeze me from the inside out.That same hollow stare that told me I was unwanted, unneeded, and unloveable.His eyes met mine, and all the air in my lungs disappeared.He looked older, weaker even — but somehow, the cruelty in his gaze hadn’t aged a day.“Elena”, he said, his voice flat.My lips trembled. “Hi… Dad.”The word 'Dad' felt foreign now — fragile, almost bitter.He looked at me the way someone might look at an insect crawling onto their doorstep.Then his gaze flicked past me, landing on Rowan. The muscles in his jaw twitched; his face darkened.And before I could even think of what to say next, his expression hardened into stone.“Go away.”The words came like a slap.Sharp. Immediate. Unquestionable.I blinked, stunned. "W-what?"“I said go away,” he repeated, louder this time,

Elena's POVThe room was quiet after he left — too quiet.I stayed still for a long time, staring at the door he had just walked through. The echo of his voice still lingered in the air. Always do, Mrs Blackwood. The way he said it… God, why did it sound like something more than just a tease?I sighed and lay back on the bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Everything felt too heavy — my chest, my thoughts, my heart. I couldn’t tell where exhaustion ended and emotion began anymore.But then my gaze drifted to the files Rowan had mentioned — the ones sitting neatly on the table beside the coffee mug I’d forgotten to finish last night.I groaned, dragging myself out of bed. “Work, Elena. Focus,” I muttered to myself, even though I already knew I wouldn’t be able to. Still, I wrapped the bedsheet tighter around me and padded across the cold floor.The files were thick — the kind of corporate paperwork I’d seen him carry a hundred times before. Each page looked serious, stamped with

Elena's POVMy breath caught in my throat as I looked at Rowan and Rose’s photos.For a moment, my brain couldn’t register what I was seeing. My body went still—frozen in a kind of disbelief that hurt worse than pain. Then, slowly, I lowered myself to the floor, my knees giving up beneath me.The first photograph was clear—Rose, sitting on Rowan’s lap, her head thrown back in laughter, his lips brushing the delicate curve of her neck. His hand was on her waist, fingers digging possessively into her skin as if he owned her.My chest tightened. No—crushed.The second one was worse. They were in a bed. The same navy sheets. The same headboard. Our bed. My trembling fingers almost tore the edge of the photo as I flipped to the next.The third—his lips on hers, her hands buried in his hair, and his shirt halfway undone. I could practically hear her laugh in that image—the same one that grated my nerves when she called him baby.And the last one—Rowan carrying her on his shoulder, like she

Elena’s POVThe sound of the rain tapping against the window had been going on for hours.I sat curled up on Natalie’s couch, wrapped in one of her oversized blankets, my phone lying like a live grenade beside me.Natalie had fallen asleep on the other end of the couch, the TV flickering dim light across her face. I should’ve been asleep too, but sleep was the last thing that wanted me tonight.My head ached from crying. My eyes felt raw, heavy, swollen. Every time I closed them, those damned pictures replayed — like ghosts burned into my brain.Rowan’s hands on Rose.His mouth. His smile.And the timestamp — from that day.I had told myself a hundred times to stop thinking, to stop replaying, but my mind was cruel. It kept whispering: he lied, he used you, he never changed.When the phone buzzed, I jumped.The sound sliced through the silence like a blade.I grabbed it with trembling fingers. For a moment, I expected Rowan again — another missed call, another voicemail full of explan