All Chapters of Rewrite My Fate: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Just because I didn’t want Zayn to notice the faint marks on my neck, I started wearing turtleneck shirts and sleeping in my own room. He asked why I didn’t want to sleep with him, but I lied and told him I needed some privacy. It’s been two days since my mother attacked me and got arrested. We’re sitting on the couch. Zayn’s mouth moves gently against mine as he kisses me. His hands are buried deep in my hair, his touch soft yet possessive. He presses me back against the couch, his lips trailing from my mouth to my ear. I match him stroke for stroke, my fingers clawing at the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until the entire world shrinks to the suffocating space between our bodies. Then his lips begin to travel down toward my neck. I flinch and push him away instinctively. “What happened?” he asks, worried. “Nothing,” I breathe, adjusting my shirt and making sure he doesn't see the faint bruises. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes swirling with tha

~~ZAYN~~Damon and I have spent the last two decades tearing each other apart from the inside out. Because I chose never to marry or become chairman of the company, I remained hidden from the public eye. But the moment I saw Jade at that altar—walking away from her useless fiancé—I chose an even deadlier war with my brother. The moment I agreed to marry her, I chose the one thing Damon had always wanted most: the company.I walk into the grand hallway, Dave’s heavy footsteps echoing a perfect three paces behind me.“Your grandmother might want you to sleep here tonight,” Dave chirps, his voice too bright and amusing.I roll my eyes slightly. “I’m a married man. I can't leave my wife all alone at night.”“Might as well ask me to go back and bring her here. I’m certain your grandmother won't let you leave.”Dave moves faster now to open the door to grandmother’s study. He swings the double doors open, smiling at me sheepishly. I ignore his crazy antics and walk into the study. He follow

The officer’s eyes remain glued to Barbara’s chest. His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Ummm—I—ummm,” he stammers, his eyes darting from Barbara’s chest to her beautiful flushed face. She pushes toward him to close the small gap between his mouth and her hardened nipples. Suddenly he takes a rigid step backward. He clears his throat violently. “Just... move the vehicle along,” he manages to say. “I definitely will, officer,” I respond, my voice tight with fury. “Have a good night,” he mutters, turning on his heel and walking back toward his cruiser. “Goodnight, Mr. policeman, ” Barbara yells. The officer doesn't look back. He slams his car door and speeds off to protect whatever dignity he has left. The taillights vanish into the dark. Barbara slips back into the van, returning to her seat. “What the fuck was that?!” I roar, slamming my palms against the steering wheel so hard the plastic cracks. I spin around in my seat, glaring at her, my blood boiling with a toxic

JADEThere is a small celebration in the grand ballroom of Hemsworth Global Holdings. It's filled with chattering from the board members, investors, family, friends, well-wishers, and staff. But Damon isn't here. Even Victoria is present. She’s glowering at me. Everyone is smiling. Everyone is pretending that the transition of power was a peaceful, democratic affair. Zayn stands beside me, his hand resting at the small of my back. He responds to the congratulations of elderly board members with polite nods and small smiles. I still feel like I don't belong in his world. It all feels new to me. But I don't show my discomfort. “To the new era of Hemsworth Global,” an executive toasts, raising his glass. “A well-deserved victory, Mr. Chairman.”“Thank you, Harrison,” Zayn replies, his voice low and cool. “The restructuring begins tomorrow. I expect your department's audit on my desk by eight.”The man’s smile stiffens slightly, but he bows his head and slips away into the crowd. I let

I follow Amanda in silence, my mind racing a mile a minute. What does she want to tell me about zayn that he doesn't already know about himself? We stop in a secluded executive lounge. Amanda shuts the thick wooden doors, instantly sealing out the distant, muffled hum of the party. She turns to face me and then takes her seat. She gestures for me to sit on the chair in front of her. I do. My heart hasn't stopped racing like a wild animal since we left the ballroom. Amanda studies my face for a long moment. It feels like torture. I almost want to speak, but I don’t. Her eyes map every line of anxiety on my skin before she lets out a heavy sigh. “I know by the look on your face exactly what has happened,” she breaks the overwhelming silence. “Zayn never told you the truth of his birth, did he?” My throat feels bone-dry, constricted by a sudden, choking dread that makes it hard to breathe. Zayn hardly tells me things about himself. Am I supposed to tell his grandmother that our contr