Semua Bab THE HEIRESS'S REBIRTH:REBORN AS A THORN IN MY HUSBAND'S PATH: Bab 81 - Bab 90

Rose’s POVThe last thing I remember was the cold, clinical click of the child safety locks. Then, the weight of Marcus’s gaze in the rearview mirror, heavy, dark, and utterly wrong. I had opened my mouth to scream, to beg, to ask him why the hell we were passing the city limits.I didn't even see the gun move. There was just a sudden, blinding flash of white behind my eyes and a crack that echoed inside my skull. Then, the world folded into black.When I woke up, the air was different. It didn't smell like the leather of the SUV or the rainy night air of the estate. It smelled like turpentine. Linseed oil. And expensive, suffocating lilies.I tried to move my arms to touch the throbbing knot on my temple, but a sharp, metallic clink stopped me mid-air. My heart hammered against my ribs, a trapped bird terrified of its cage. I pulled again. Harder. The steel bit into my wrists, cold and unforgiving. I was flat on my back, my arms pinned above my head, chained to the heavy iron frame o

Silas’s POV"I don't have her, you piece of shit!"Derek didn't just yell, he screamed it into the dashboard. His voice was raw, like he had been swallowing broken glass for an hour. He was shaking, actually shaking his knuckles white as bone where he gripped the steering wheel. "What kind of game is this, Richard?" he roared. "Where is your spy? Where did Marcus take her?"There was this long, horrible silence on the other end of the speaker. Just the sound of heavy breathing and something that sounded like wood splintering in the distance."What?" Richard’s voice came back, and it wasn't smug anymore. It was hollow. Cold. "Marcus? Derek, if I had that girl, I wouldn't be standing in a house full of your men, I am not stupid!"The line cut out. Just like that. Click. Derek didn't move for a second. He just stared at the phone. Then he dialed the Police Commissioner. No hello, no sir. Just a threat. "Massacre at the Hawthorne estate. Six dead. Get your men there nkw. I want reporters

Rose’s POVIt's been exactly three days. I had been trapped in this hell for three days, pretending to be a loving partner. The weight of Marcus’s arm across my waist felt like a lead bar, pinning me to the plush velvet of the sofa. The living room was drowned in the flickering, sepia-toned glow of an old movie something black and white, full of soft orchestral swells and actors who spoke in mid-atlantic clips. It was supposed to be romantic. It was supposed to be our time.I leaned my head back against his shoulder, my hair splayed across his chest. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend it was Derek. I could pretend the scent of expensive cedar and cold rain was the man who actually loved me, not the man who had stolen me. But every time Marcus breathed, the vibration against my skull reminded me of the truth.I was curled up with my betrayer. Another snake just like Richard."You’re very quiet tonight," Marcus murmured. His fingers traced the line of my collarbone, his touch l

Rose’s POVMarcus didn’t get up immediately. He stayed on the floor for a long minute, his breath coming in jagged, pathetic hitches that made my skin crawl. When he finally crawled out from under the table, he didn't look like the man who ran a cartel. He looked like he had been scrubbed raw from the inside out. He brushed off his expensive charcoal suit with shaking hands, his eyes darting toward the gas as if the iron skillet were a loaded gun."It’s just a fire, Marcus," I said, my voice intentionally flat. I didn't offer him a hand. I didn't comfort him. I stood by the counter and watched the Boss struggle to find his dignity in a kitchen that smelled like burnt grease. "Why are you hiding under a table like a terrified child?"He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. He leaned against the marble island, his knuckles white. "I was eight," he whispered, his voice sounding thin, like it was coming from miles away. "A bomb. My house... my parents. I watched them di

Rose's Pov "I had three minutes. The silk scarf I had soaked in the expensive bourbon from the library was tucked behind the heavy velvet curtains of the West Wing, a slow-burning fuse that would eventually hit the smoke detector. I had timed it. I had practiced the distance in my head a thousand times.When the high-pitched shriek of the alarm finally tore through the silence of the mansion, I didn't breathe. I ran. I ignored the sound of heavy boots pounding toward the smoke. I headed for the side exit, my hand reaching for the cold iron handle. Just one turn. Just one step."The lights didn't just flicker; they died. The hum of the air conditioning cut out, leaving a silence so heavy it felt like water filling my lungs."You really think it’s that easy, Rose?"The voice didn't come from behind me. It came from the shadows right next to the door. I gasped, stumbling back as a silhouette stepped into the faint moonlight filtering through the high windows. "Marcus, I....""Don't," h