บททั้งหมดของ THE HEIRESS'S REBIRTH:REBORN AS A THORN IN MY HUSBAND'S PATH: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

Rose’s POVI watched the coffee cup slip from Derek’s fingers. It seemed to hang in the air for a lifetime, a white ceramic moon against the dark oak of the desk, before it hit the hardwood. The crack was deafening. A sharp, violent splintering that echoed the way my chest suddenly felt. Shards of porcelain skittered across the floor, dark espresso bleeding into the rug like an oil spill.Derek turned lethal, frozen fury that for a second, I forgot how to breathe. He pulled his phone from his pocket and marched into the far corner of the room, his voice dropping into a low, jagged snarl."What's all this?" he barked. I didn't need to hear the other side of the call to know it was his father. "No. I don’t care about the merger. I don’t care about how this election will benefit us. You stay in your lane, don't blackmail me emotionally."I sat there, my hands folded tightly in my lap to hide the fact that they were shaking. I felt a sudden, violent wave of nausea roll through me. It was

Katherine's POV The metal floor of this van is freezing and it smells like rusted iron and old blood. Every time the driver hits a pothole my head snaps against the jagged edge of a wooden crate and I want to scream. I want to wrap my fingers around the driver’s throat until his eyes bulge out just for being incompetent. But I can't. I have to stay quiet. I have to sit here in the dark like a common rat while Rose Hawthorne probably sits in that ivory tower of hers sipping tea and playing the victim.It is all her fault. Everything. If she had just been a normal girl or stayed out of my way none of this would be happening. She was always the golden child and the one everyone wanted to protect while I was the one doing the heavy lifting. I killed Isabella because she wouldn't stop talking to her. Rose spoke to Isabella three good times, she was going to replace me with her. She was whispering in ears and trying to play the moral compass and I couldn't have that. But even that is on Ro

Rose’s POVI didn't sleep. Not really. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the steam rising off Marcus’s shoulders and that low slung towel that felt like a dare I wasn’t brave enough to take. I spent half the night staring at the ceiling of my own bedroom, trying to remind myself that I was Rose Hawthorne, CEO of a multi-million dollar company, not some starstruck teenager staring at a bodyguard.By the time the sun started peeking through the heavy curtains, I had managed to convince myself that the incident in the guest room was just a weird, awkward fluke. I was just stressed. I was just seeing things. I got out of bed, threw on a silk robe, and headed downstairs, craving coffee and the kind of silence that only a giant, empty mansion can provide.I reached the bottom of the stairs and stopped dead.The hallway, which had been pristine and empty when I went to bed, was now a literal obstacle course of designer luggage. There were Louis Vuitton trunks, half a dozen garment bags, and

Rose's POV "I told you to come to my mansion, didn't I?" his voice was low, vibrating with that quiet authority that always made my skin prickle."I heard you the first time, Derek. And I gave you my answer," I said, meeting his gaze. "You are crossing a line. I appreciate the concern, I really do but this is becoming too much. You are suffocating me."Derek let out a short, sharp exhale, stepping closer until I could smell the faint scent of his cologne and the coffee he had clearly been drinking all night. "So what? Am I supposed to just sit back and watch you put yourself in danger? After everything I did?""I know you are concerned, Derek. Overly concerned," I countered, crossing my arms. "But you should try trusting my decisions for once. I have a company to run. I have a life. Besides..." I paused, letting a small, pointed smile touch my lips. "Don't you have a wedding to plan? You should be picking out flowers arrangements, not stalking your... sister."Derek let out a dry,

Rose’s POVThe word girl hung in the air, heavier and more significant than the giant bouquet of roses. I looked at him, my heart hammering against my ribs, realizing that for the first time in two lives, someone was finally standing in front of me, shielding me from the world.After our quiet dinner, Derek pulled his hand back, checking his watch with that practiced, robotic precision that always made me want to scream. "We should go," he said, his voice dropping back into that cool, neutral register. "The car is waiting."The ride back to the mansion was suffocatingly quiet. I stared out the window at the passing city lights, my mind playing that my girl comment on a loop like a broken record. I wanted to ask him what he meant. I wanted to demand to know why he was playing these games with my head. But Derek was already back on his phone, his face illuminated by the blue light of the screen as he typed out emails. By the time the SUV pulled into my driveway, the warmth of the rest