All Chapters of I Swore Off Men; But My Enemy Wants An Exception : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Cesare’s point of view ~~~The sting of steel against flesh should’ve made me grit my teeth, maybe even bite back a groan, but I just sat there, quiet, slouched into the leather couch as she dug the bullet out of my leg. The lamp behind her threw soft light against her face, casting shadows beneath her lashes, highlighting the wrinkle in her forehead every time I didn’t flinch.Her hands were steady. I’ll give her that. Maybe too steady for someone who claimed she didn’t want to be involved. The bullet finally came free with a slick sound, and she dropped it into a little transparent bag like it was evidence.Her eyes slid to me again. The kind of look she thought she was hiding but wasn’t. Weird, half-suspicious, half-curious. It was cute. Too cute.I chuckled low in my chest. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?”Her lips pursed. “Because you’re weird. Aren’t you feeling any pain?”I blinked at her, and it hit me. Right. I hadn’t made a sound. Not one grunt. Not one curse.

Rosette’s point of view ~~~There was a strange flicker in Cesare’s eyes, brief but enough to throw me off. Did he not want to help me?For a second I thought he would say something like I should go to Mr. Blakewood myself or maybe he'd say I should leave him out of this situation.But instead he leaned back lazily, his lips curving in something I couldn’t read, and he asked in that unnervingly calm tone of his;“What’s so good about being the chairman anyway? Shouldn’t you be more focused on who killed your father?”I froze. The words hit me like a bucket of cold water and iced blocks.My lips parted, but for a moment no sound came out. When they finally did, my voice was breathless. “Of course I’ll find who killed him. Of course I will. But this—” I motioned around.“This is more important right now. Claudia has more power than me, more people willing to fight for her. If I don’t do anything, she’ll take everything. The company, the empire—everything my father built will be ripped

Cesare’s Point of View~~~My knees slammed the floor hard enough to rattle through my bones. The chair’s blow had been brutal, painful, ringing in my skull like a bell meant to announce my downfall. For one sick, blinding second, the edges of my vision blurred, darkness pushing at me, begging me to fall into it.But I didn’t.Because even through the pain, even as my body begged me to collapse, I saw her. My Rose. Running, ready to bolt. Leaving me.And that, I would never allow. If I tell you not to leave in the middle of the night, Rose, then you should do exactly as I say.With what strength I could gather, I lunged forward and caught her by the leg. The sudden tug yanked her balance away and sent her crashing to the ground with a startled cry. My lips curved even as blood throbbed through my head.“Sorry, Rose,” I breathed out, a rough chuckle escaping me. “But it’ll take more than a hit on the head to wipe me out.”I dragged her back, ignoring her clawing hands, ignoring the ra

Rosette’s point of view ~~~The gown on me, was perfect. A soft satin that clung to me in all the right places, the color a deep dark red that reflected the light every time I moved. The neckline dipped just enough to be bold but not desperate, and the slit running up my thigh made me feel like I could walk into a battlefield and win, not just an auction hall. The sleeves were off the shoulder, hugging my skin, leaving my collarbones bare. My hair, curled into loose waves, fell down my back, and I wore a single pair of diamond earrings, my father’s last gift before he passed. I pressed my lips together and straightened my back as I walked through the tall golden doors.The room was already buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, murmurs of money, and deals disguised as casual conversations. Warm golden light, reflected off the glasses of champagne and the shine of expensive jewels wrapped around both young and aging necks. Every table was draped in white, the staff weaving bet

Rosette’s point of view ~~~The moment I turned, my eyes landed on the last two people I ever wanted to see.Leila.And Blake.The sight of them standing there together was like a knife sliding into my chest.For a heartbeat, I froze, gripping the stem of my flute a little harder. My stomach churned. I hated them—no, hate wasn’t strong enough a word. I loathed them. Every nerve in my body screamed at the sight of them.Blake looked different. His jawline seemed smaller now. His nose was crooked, his cheekbones uneven, and there were faint traces of scars that makeup couldn’t quite cover. His once handsome face looked almost foreign now.The memory of that brutal morning flashed before my eyes. The way Cesare’s punches had echoed, the way blood painted Blake's face. The fear in me had been real, yes, but so was the relief. Because he deserved it. Every broken bone, every drop of pain, every mark on his face, he earned it.And even now, even with those warped features, he still had tha