All Chapters of THE HEIRESS'S REBIRTH:REBORN AS A THORN IN MY HUSBAND'S PATH: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Rose’s POVMy skin crawled. It wasn’t the kind of shiver you get from a cold draft; it was the kind that starts in your bone marrow when you realize the person standing in front of you had completely lost his mind.Marcus was still hovering over me, his shadow swallowing the bed. I could smell the damp heat of his skin and the faint, metallic tang of the blood on his knuckles. For a split second, a very stupid, very lonely part of me wanted to pull him down. I wanted to let his obsession drown out the noise of Derek’s silence.But then a thought came to me. I didn't think my father had given me a second chance at life for me to fall so easily for another man, I wouldn't let history repeat itself. Never."Get off me," I said. It wasn’t a plea. It was a command.I shoved his chest with both hands. He didn't expect the force of it. He stumbled back, his eyes wide and dark, looking like a man who had just woken up from a fever dream."Miss, I...""Don't," I snapped, scrambling off the bed

Rose’s POVThe morgue smelled like industrial bleach and something sweet, the kind of sweetness that makes you want to gag because you know it's hiding the scent of rot. My hands were shoved deep into the pockets of my coat, my fingers digging into my own palms just to stay grounded. Every time a metal drawer clicked or a cooling fan hummed, I jumped.Silas was standing over Jacob, the lab tech. Silas didn’t have to scream, he just stood there, his shadow stretching across the white tile floor like a stain."I trusted you, Jacob," Silas said, his voice dangerously quiet. "I gave you the samples. I told you to run the DNA against Richard’s profile. You told me it was a match. A perfect match. You said the body belonged to Richard. Why did you forget those result?"Jacob was sweating. It was dripping off his chin and onto his blue scrubs. He looked like he wanted to crawl into one of the body bags and disappear."I... I..." Jacob’s voice cracked. He was stuttering so hard he could barel

Rose’s POVThe living room felt like it was closing in on me. The air was thick and heavy, smelling like old rain and the bitter metallic taste of being stabbed in the back. I couldn't stop pacing. My heels dug into the rug, back and forth, until my legs burned, but the second I stopped, the image of Derek's face hit me again. Not the man who used to hold me like I was made of glass, but the stranger who just looked at me with pure, unfiltered disgust.My eyes were raw and stinging from the tears I refused to let fall anymore. Those tears were for a man who didn't exist. The man standing in that mansion today was a Hamilton, a perfect pawn of his father."Rose, sit down. You are going to pass out," Michelle whispered from the couch. She looked like a ghost, her blonde hair all tangled and her eyes reflecting the same hollow ache that was tearing through my chest."I am fine," I snapped, even though my voice shook.The sound of tires screaming on the pavement outside made us all jump.

Rose’s POVThe sun was too bright. It cut through the gaps in my curtains like a serrated blade, mocking the absolute wreck of a night I had just survived. I sat at my vanity, my fingers moving mechanically as I patted expensive serum into my skin. My face in the mirror looked pale, my eyes a bit puffy, but I moved with a calm that felt like a suit of armor. I had to. If I didn't hold it together now, I would shatter into a million jagged pieces.Behind me, the bed groaned. I didn't turn around. I just watched his reflection.Derek shifted, a low, guttural groan escaping his throat. I saw the exact second reality hit him. His eyes snapped open, darting around the unfamiliar room, landing on the walls and the soft lace of my pillowcases. He looked at his shirt wrinkled, half-unbuttoned and then his eyes found me in the mirror."Shit," he hissed, the word thick with a hangover and a healthy dose of regret.He sat up slowly, rubbing his face with his palms, his broad shoulders tensed lik

Rose’s POVI let out a laugh that sounded a little too loud and a lot too desperate, even to my own ears. I waved my hands around like I was trying to swat away the invisible tension thick enough to choke on."Stop it! Seriously, both of you," I said, catching my breath and leaning against the kitchen counter. "You all need to stop looking at me with those concerning, 'should we call the therapist eyes. It was just a slip of the tongue, okay? I’ve been binge watching too many true crime documentaries and Korean thrillers lately. My brain is basically mashed potatoes at this point."Michelle let out a snort, her shoulders finally dropping from around her ears. She grabbed a grape from the fruit bowl and tossed it into her mouth. "Honestly, Rose, with everything you have been through, I wouldn't blame you if you started predicting the apocalypse. Just... maybe don't do it before my morning coffee next time."They both laughed, a genuine, easy sound that made the ice in my chest thaw jus