THE HEIRESS'S REBIRTH:REBORN AS A THORN IN MY HUSBAND'S PATH のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 100

Richard’s POVThe textile mill smelled like failure. Dust motes danced in the shafts of gray light cutting through the cracked windows, landing on the sleeves of my tailored coat. I checked my watch. Two hours. That was the window my rats in the dark had given me. Two hours until Derek, and that Judas, Marcus came screaming into this graveyard looking for me."They really are adorable, aren't they?" I chuckled, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. The ice clinked, a lonely sound in the hollow room. "All this drama. All this fights. And for what? A girl they barely know. Someone else’s wife."I stood up, stretching my limbs until my spine popped. God, it felt good to move. Hiding was for people who lacked imagination."Richard? We have to go," Vanessa hissed from the corner. She looked like a bird caught in a storm hair frizzy, eyes darting to every shadow. "Why are we even still here? What if Derek catches me? He will kill us both, Richard. You know I can't be caught in the middle

Rose’s POVThe smell was the first thing that brought it all back. It wasn’t just the dampness or the scent of rotting wood, it was the specific, metallic tang of cold concrete and old copper. It was the smell of my own death.I opened my eyes, and for a second, I thought the last several months had been a fever dream. I thought I was back in that hole, six months pregnant and skin stretched over my ribs like parchment. I waited to feel the protrusion of a belly that wasn't there anymore. I waited to feel the starvation.Instead, I felt the heavy, biting weight of iron.Clink. Clink.I tried to pull my hands toward my face, but the chains snapped tight, anchoring my wrists to a bolt in the wall. The sound echoed off the stone, a jagged, rhythmic reminder that fate has a sick sense of humor.Not again. Please, God, not like this.I had lived. I had come back. I had played the game, I had gotten allies, and yet, here I was back in the one place I promised myself I would never see again.

Rose’s POVThe first thing I realized was that the world didn't smell like dirt anymore.Everything was white. Not a pure, heavenly white, but a thick, dizzying blur that swirled in front of my eyes like milk poured into water. I tried to blink, but my eyelids felt like they had been glued shut with sand. My head throbbed a heavy, rhythmic pulse that made me want to sink back into the blackness.But then, the blur settled.I wasn't in the basement. I wasn't in the woods. I was staring at a ceiling with fluorescent lights that hummed a low, clinical tune."She’s waking up. Connor, look, her eyes are moving."The voice was soft, feminine, and high-pitched with nerves. I slowly tilted my head toward the sound. My neck felt like it was made of rusted wire.Standing by the bed was a stranger. He was tall broad across the shoulders in a way that reminded me of a wall with hair the color of wheat and eyes as blue as a clear sky. He was wearing a heavy wool coat, looking like he had just step

Rose’s POVThe question was still hanging there, heavy and suffocating like a shroud, when the door burst open. The doctors swarmed in, a blur of white coats and flashing pens, their voices overlapping in a clinical buzz that drowned out the look in Derek’s eyes."Her heart rate is peaking," the head doctor said, gesturing to the monitor. "It’s the stress and trauma. The brain is trying to process the trauma, and it’s misfiring. She needs rest."Derek didn't move for a long time. He stayed perched on the edge of my bed, his gaze locked onto mine, searching for the answer I hadn't given. For a second, I thought he was going to push the doctor aside and demand the truth right there, but then he blinked. The Lucifer mask slid back into place cold, calculating, and protective."Yes she needs to rest," Derek said, his voice dropping an octave. "She needs us. We will take it from here. Do not let anyone know Rose Hawthorne has been found. I want this kept from everyone."The doctors nodded

Michelle’s POVThe digital clock on the dash was mocking me. 3:14 AM. Who even exists at this hour? I looked at Rose, huddled under a heap of blankets like a broken bird, and I felt that familiar, nagging urge to crack a joke just to stop myself from shaking."Seriously, Rose," I whispered, reaching over to squeeze her hand. Her fingers felt like dry ice. "If we are going to London, you better be ready for the rain. My hair is going to be a disaster. We are talking 1980s frizz, and it’s all your fault."Rose didn’t laugh. She didn't even blink. She just stared at the back of Peter’s head. "The wedding," she rasped. "Vanessa is she going to marry Derek?"I tried to force a chuckle, but it felt like swallowing glass. "Honey, your life is in danger and you are still thinking about my brother. Forget about them. In ten hours, we will be eating overpriced scones and complaining about the British accent. Just hold on."In the front seat, Silas was a wall of stone. He hadn't moved an inch,