All Chapters of I Married His Enemy: Return Of The Forgotten Princess : Chapter 341 - Chapter 350

434 Chapters

Following Her

Camilla didn't wait for anyone. The moment she uttered her last icy words, she spun on her heel and marched out of the mansion. She didn't look back. Didn't pause. Didn't even take a breath. Her determination was so visible that it wrapped the entire mansion in a suffocating tension. She reached the double doors, placed her hand on the handle, and turned just slightly, just enough for the others to feel the chill radiating from her. "Nobody follows me," she said, her voice low, deadly, and freezing enough to make a demon shiver. "I swear I will break your legs and stab you if any of you follow me." It wasn't a suggestion. It wasn't a request. It was a death sentence if ignored. Everyone nodded at least ten times in under five seconds, all of them looking like guilty kindergarteners promising their strict teacher that they absolutely, positively would NOT touch the crayons ever again. Camilla nodded once in approval, tossed her hair back, and left the house with the calm, slow s

Traumatized Restaurant Assistant

They followed Camilla's car at a safe distance, well, "safe" in theory. In practice, they were all leaning forward, their eyes narrowed, ready to duck behind any object if she happened to glance into her rearview mirror. Gloria and Lucas, in the other car, were doing the same thing, except Lucas kept complaining. "Gloria, duck lower! She'll see us!" Gloria smacked his arm. "Lucas, she's in front. How will she see us behind her?!" Lucas grumbled. "You don't know your sister. She has supernatural senses." "Lucas." Gloria exhaled. "Stop. Just stop before you embarrass yourself." He sighed dramatically but obeyed. Camilla's car glided into the parking lot like it owned the pavement. Even before the engine stopped, her aura hit the air - confidence, elegance, and that lethal brand of unapologetic power only she could pull off. She stepped out, her heels clicking sharply, making nearby people turn their heads to look at her. She walked straight inside without a pause,

All Went For The Kill

The assistant finally snapped out of her trance, almost tripping over her own feet as she rushed to open the door for them. Her hands shook so badly she fumbled with the handle twice before it clicked. Then she bowed so deeply her forehead nearly touched her knees. Nikolai paused in front of her, his cold voice dropping low, the tone that made people straighten their lives instantly. “Not a word,” he warned, his eyes glinting like sharpened steel under dim lighting. “No one must know we’re here. Not a whisper. Not a hint. Not to anyone. Understood?” The assistant nodded so hard her ponytail whipped around like a helicopter blade. “Y-yes, sir! Of course, sir! I didn’t even see you... You were never here... I don’t even work here...” Adrian sighed and dragged Nikolai forward before he traumatized her further. "Stop being a jerk, little brother." Nikolai just huffed at him. They slipped inside through a narrow side corridor, moving like shadows, quiet, swift, and low-p

She Stabbed Him

They were seconds... literally seconds away from storming forward, ready to drag Eric out of his chair by the collar and politely introduce his head to the nearest table edge, when... A sound ripped through the restaurant. A sound so sharp and horrifying it sliced straight through their souls. “AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH—!!!” Eric’s scream was raw, animalistic, and full of shock that came from pain he absolutely deserved. Every head in the room snapped toward their table. And the entire Rosewood rescue-squad whipped around so fast Cassie nearly sprained her neck. Because sitting there... calm, composed, terrifyingly collected... was Camilla. And in her hand? A knife. A knife that was no longer just in her hand. It was through Eric’s. Pinned right through his palm, straight into the wooden table, blood soaking rapidly into pristine white linen like a crimson flower blooming under moonlight. Eric stared at his impaled hand with wide, bulging eyes, trembling violently.

What Did Raymond Told You?

For a moment, the entire restaurant fell into a strange, unnatural silence. Camilla's chair was still rocking slightly from where she had stood up. She didn't look shaken. She didn't look angry. She didn't look regretful. No! Camilla looked relieved. As if stabbing Eric's hand had been nothing but a necessary correction to a long-overdue problem. Eric whimpered, staring at her like she was a demon crawling out of the darkest corner of his past. "C-C-Camilla," he croaked, his voice cracking under the weight of pain and terror, "you-you can't just-you- can't-" She didn't spare him even a glance. Instead, she turned toward her family, as if she hadn't just turned a luxury restaurant into a crime scene. "As I said... You can deal with him now," she said calmly, brushing a speck of imaginary dust off her sleeve. "I'm done. I will leave the rest to you guys." That single sentence hit the Rosewoods like a battle signal. Cassie inhaled sharply, then flashed a smile so ter

The Escape!!!

Eric’s scream didn’t just echo, it ripped through the entire restaurant as though someone had torn the sound apart with bare hands. Every waiter, every chef who heard it felt the hair on their skin bristle. But Camilla didn’t flinch. Not even a blink. Adrian let go of the knife again. It was as if he was playing with the knife and Eric. Camilla, on the other hand, had had enough of the talk already. She rushed towards and grabbed the knife, twisting it slightly, scaring Eric, who almost fainted. Her fingers wrapped around the knife handle, cold and steady, like she hadn’t just driven it through human flesh but was merely stirring her morning tea. Blood soaked the pristine tablecloth in deep, spreading blotches of red. Eric’s breathing came out in short, shattered gasps, each one more desperate than the last. “C-Camilla—! AHH—!! PULL IT OUT—!!” he wailed, twisting, failing, his chair screeching against the marble floor as he tried to jerk away. Camilla only tilted her

Living Their Best Life

A full week had rolled by since the unforgettable, absolutely unhinged, borderline cinematic incident at the restaurant - the stabbing, the blood-curdling screams. The flying cutlery, the shattered decor, the blood, the staff nearly passing out, the Rosewoods almost transforming into a one-family demolition crew in a desperate attempt to defend Camilla's honor. And somehow, impossibly, ridiculously, life managed to settle into something that suspiciously resembled normal again... or, well, the Rosewood version of normal, which was its own species entirely. Normal for them meant a very specific blend of chaos wrapped in designer labels, emotional instability camouflaged with luxury vacations, outrageously expensive coping mechanisms, and a household that operated with the same energy as a royal palace, a frat house, a therapy group, and a mafia family all mashed together into one. It was almost impressive how quickly they bounced back, as though none of them had watched Camill

Stalker Lydia

Cassie knew exactly what would happen the moment Nikolai found out. He would lock her inside the mansion, assign guards to her 24/7, install enough surveillance cameras to film a N*****x documentary, and possibly declare martial law over the entire city out of pure possessiveness. "No, thank you," Cassie muttered every time the thought crossed her mind. "I am not letting him turn our house into Fort Knox because I feel weird." So she shoved the anxiety deeper, forced a smile, and carried on. But the shadow didn't go away. In fact, it seemed to get closer. Today, as Cassie drove to work, the radio was playing softly, and her fingers were tapping the steering wheel. She wanted to feel normal. To breathe normally. To pretend nothing was wrong. But her heart refused to settle. And then she glanced at the rearview mirror. A dark car was following her. It was the same distance, the sme speed, and the same unsettling energy. 'Okay, fine,' she told herself, 'could be anybody. Don't

Lydia’s Apology

Cassie watched Lydia remain seated inside the car for what felt like an eternity. They were in a secluded area, which made the road empty and silent. Her fingers curled slowly at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she fought the urge to scream, to demand answers, to rip the door open herself if Lydia refused to move another second. Her jaw tightened, and her muscles locked painfully. And finally, when her patience snapped clean in half... “Lydia,” Cassie shouted, her voice slicing through the stillness, echoing against the empty buildings like a warning shot, “I asked you a question. Why the hell are you following me? Why have you been stalking me?” The words came out controlled, but beneath them lay a trembling fury that had been simmering for days, fueled by sleepless nights and the constant sensation of being watched, hunted by something that never showed its face. For a long moment, Lydia didn’t respond. She didn’t even dare to look at her. Cassie’s heart pound

Confession And Change

“One night,” Lydia said again, her voice dropping lower, softer, as though speaking too loudly might shatter whatever fragile resolve was holding her together, “I went to a club with my friends.” Cassie remained silent, arms still crossed, posture rigid, but her eyes never left Lydia’s face, watching every flicker of expression, every tremor of emotion, searching relentlessly for cracks, for lies, for the familiar arrogance that used to slip out no matter how well Lydia pretended. “We drank,” Lydia continued, letting out a quiet, humorless laugh that carried no amusement at all. “A lot. Too much. And at first it was normal, loud music, expensive drinks, people pretending they were happy because the lights were low enough to hide how empty everything felt.” Her gaze drifted past Cassie, unfocused now, as though the abandoned road had transformed into flashing neon and pounding bass. “Then we argued,” Lydia said. “About nothing. About everything. About me.” Cassie’s lips pressed int

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