บททั้งหมดของ I Married His Enemy: Return Of The Forgotten Princess : บทที่ 211 - บทที่ 220

Angelo Baldwin. Every head turned again. Cassie’s breath hitched. Nikolai’s jaw tightened. Gloria groaned quietly, and Camilla, oh, Camilla... went from composed elegance to full-blown fury in less than three seconds. Her eyes widened at the sight of her son strolling into the hall with that easy smirk and careless swagger, the one that always made her want to strangle him. “Oh, hell fucking no,” she muttered under her breath. “Not today.” She stormed toward him, heels clicking like gunfire, and before Angelo could even greet anyone, she grabbed him by the ear. “Ow! Mom!” he yelped, wincing as she twisted harder. “You idiot!” Camilla snapped. “Who invited you here?!” The guests froze, watching in horrified delight. Angelo tried to pry her hand off. “Mom! What are you doing?! Today is Uncle Lucas’s birthday! You can’t just...ow!... drag me out like a child!” Camilla glared daggers. “Oh, so you remember he’s your uncle now?” she mocked. “After everything you did

After the storm of scandals, slaps, and chaos, the Rosewood party began to settle back into its glamorous rhythm. Gloria, graceful and ever composed, took the microphone and addressed the room with her usual elegance. "Ladies and gentlemen," she said, her smile warm and commanding. "I know tonight has been... quite lively. But every great celebration has its own surprises, doesn't it?" A ripple of laughter passed through the crowd. She continued, "Let's remember why we're all here - to celebrate my beloved husband, Lucas Rosewood, and his wonderful life." Applause filled the room, washing away the tension like waves. Lucas stood tall and distinguished, his arm wrapped proudly around Gloria's waist. Cassie, standing nearby with Nikolai and little Emily, joined the crowd's chant: "Happy Birthday to you-" Emily's tiny voice squeaked louder than anyone's, making the guests laugh. She clapped her little hands, beaming with pride as Lucas bent down to give her a grandfatherly kiss on

The night was too quiet. Not the kind of quiet that came with peace, but the kind that whispered of danger, the heavy, suffocating kind that makes you sweat. Joshua sat in the metal chair, wrists bound so tightly the ropes had carved deep. His shirt was soaked with sweat even in the cold night, his breathing shallow. His face was bruised and his lip split by Rafael's punch earlier. The most powerful two men stood in front of him, waiting for his next words, which could save or cause his death. One leaned casually against a steel table, his gloved fingers tracing the edge of a gleaming knife as though it were a piece of art... Rafael. His smile was light, almost lazy, but his eyes, those emotionless eyes, spoke of a man who could kill without blinking. The other stood a few feet away, in the dim light, unmoving. He even looked bored, had it not been for the situation... Nikolai. Cold aura. The kind of man whose silence carried more weight than a thousand threats. Joshua trie

Nikolai’s expression shifted, barely, but enough for Rafael to notice. The calm in his eyes darkened into something colder, sharper. He took the knife again, twirling it between his fingers. “You said you want to carve a flower, Raf?” Raphael chuckled lowly. “Yeah. Something delicate. Elegant. I haven't even started yet.” Nikolai smirked faintly. “Then continue. I’ll continue my skull.” Joshua’s eyes went wide. “No—no—no! Please, don’t! Fine! Fine!! Fine!!! Don’t! I’ll talk! I will fucking talk! Just stop!” But they didn’t stop. Nikolai’s hand moved fast with no hesitation. The blade pierced Joshua’s left arm again, shallow at first, then deeper. Joshua’s scream was guttural, breaking the air apart. “Damn it, Nick!” Rafael scolded with mock irritation, his own knife raised. “You could’ve waited!” “You talk too much,” Nikolai said coldly, not looking up. Blood spilled down Joshua’s arm, dripping onto the floor in thick drops. He was shaking violently, breath hitching between

Nikolai listened in silence, his expression tightening as he sensed where this was heading. Gloria’s voice softened. “She and I grew up together. We went to the same schools, high school, and then college. We were like sisters. She’d come to our home often. Your father, too, was part of that circle. We were all just… children of privilege. The Rosewoods, the Montgomerys, and my own family, the Baldwins.” A faint, wistful smile flickered across her face. “It was all so simple. Until Eliana fell in love.” Lucas’s jaw clenched at the mention of that. He didn’t look up. He just sat still. Gloria turned toward her son again. “Eliana fell in love with your father, Nikolai. With Lucas.” The words hit the air like a stone thrown into still water. “At first, we all thought it was just a silly crush,” Gloria continued. “She would blush every time he spoke, follow him around during family gatherings. But as we grew older, it became… more. Obsessive. She wanted him desperately. But th