I Married His Enemy: Return Of The Forgotten Princess のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 341 - チャプター 350

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

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

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

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

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