All Chapters of Wounded Rose of Garden Metro: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

The Reluctant DecisionElara almost refused.When Lena suggested the café, her first instinct was to shake her head and retreat into the safety of her room. The market had already stripped her raw; her nerves still frayed with every remembered whisper. But Lena’s steady eyes held her fast.“You can’t keep hiding,” Lena said firmly. “If you do, Cassidy wins twice — once with her lies, and once with your silence.”Elara’s chest tightened. The thought of stepping back into the city, into the eyes of strangers, made her feel sick. But another voice echoed in her memory: Vincent’s calm certainty when she had asked if he believed the rumors. “No.”That single word gave her something to cling to. And so, with trembling resolve, she agreed.The Journey into TownThe air outside was crisp, tinged with the faint bite of winter. Elara wrapped her coat around herself as she walked beside Lena. The cobblestones stretched like a path of judgment under her feet.Every step felt heavier than the last

The NoticeTwo days after meeting Clara, another blow arrived. This time, it wasn’t a letter but an official notice slipped discreetly under her door.Elara unfolded it with dread. The emblem stamped at the top made her heart sink: the Garden Metro Literacy Foundation, where she had once volunteered. A place she had poured hours into teaching children, raising funds, hosting events.The letter was brief, cold:Due to recent allegations and public inquiries regarding your character, the Board finds it necessary to sever ties effective immediately. Your presence compromises the integrity of our mission. We wish you well.No signature. No personal note from the chairwoman she once admired. Just words — sterile, final, cutting.Her knees gave out. She sank onto the bed, the paper fluttering to the floor.Lena found her minutes later, pale and shaking. “What happened?”“They’ve erased me,” Elara whispered hoarsely. “The foundation… I’m not welcome anymore.”Memories of DevotionImages tumb

The Ride HomeThe car hummed softly as it pulled away from the Rosemont, its polished wheels cutting through the quiet Garden Metro streets. Elara sat with her back pressed rigidly against the leather seat, her hands knotted together so tightly her knuckles ached.Through the window, the city lights smeared into golden streaks, but she barely saw them. All she could feel was the burn of a hundred eyes, the sting of whispered insults that clung to her like smoke after a fire.She hadn’t expected silence in the car to feel heavier than the noise of the gala, but it did. Each breath seemed too loud. Each heartbeat a drum reminding her of every laugh, every sneer.At last, Lena spoke. “You did more than survive tonight.”Elara turned her head slowly, her voice raw. “It didn’t feel like it. I felt like a marionette, pretending I wasn’t breaking.”“Pretending counts,” Lena said firmly. “Do you know how many in that room expected you to collapse, to flee in shame? You didn’t. That’s what the

The RumorIt began as a murmur in the estate’s corridors — servants whispering, scraps of overheard gossip that drifted in with the morning papers. By midday, Lena confirmed it.Councilor Regan, one of Cassidy’s most visible allies, intended to use the upcoming community forum to address “the matter of Elara Quinn.”“He’ll do it to humiliate you,” Lena said as they sat in the library, her tone grim. “To take the cracks you’ve opened and seal them back up with his authority. The people who applauded at the gala — he’ll try to make them jeer again.”Elara felt the blood drain from her face. A councilor was not a gossiping market vendor or a donor at a gala. He carried weight, his words echoing through the city like law. Facing him felt like walking into a lion’s den.But she also knew this: if she didn’t attend, her absence would be spun as guilt. Silence had teeth in Garden Metro.“I’ll go,” she whispered, though her chest tightened painfully as she said it.The Day of the ForumThe mo

The Breaking NewsIt began before Elara had even risen from bed.The estate was unusually noisy — servants whispering in corners, footsteps hurried, the faint rustle of newspapers spreading from hand to hand. By the time she stepped into the library, Damien was already there, a paper clutched in one hand, his expression hard.He tossed it onto the table. The headline screamed across the page in bold, merciless type:“ELARA QUINN CAUGHT IN SECRET DEAL WITH UNDERWORLD FIGURES”Her stomach twisted violently. She forced her trembling hands to lift the paper. Beneath the headline, grainy photographs sprawled across the page. A woman who looked unmistakably like her slipped into a shadowed alley with two men whose faces were hidden by hoods.The resemblance was close enough to damn her. The angle of the jaw, the dark fall of hair, even the cut of the coat — hers, or near enough to trick any casual eye.“That’s not me,” she whispered hoarsely, dropping the paper as though it had burned her.