Todos os capítulos de Rewrite My Fate: Capítulo 11 - Capítulo 20

I don’t know why I follow Zayn back to his suite, but I don’t resist when he gently pulls me along. It’s like I’m somehow tethered to him by an invisible thread. I can’t explain it. I sit on the sofa, watching from the corner of the room as he takes off his shirt. It clings to his skin, and I catch a glimpse of blisters forming where the liquid struck. My heart aches at the thought of him getting hurt because of me. Even he isn’t immune after all. Yet his body looks like it’s carved from stone—hard, perfect, and almost unreal. The tattoos on his skin make him look even more dangerous and—though I hate to admit it—extremely tempting. I’m not usually attracted to men with tattoos, but Zayn— Hold up. I’m not saying I’m attracted to him. If anything, I hate him. I’d rather be attracted to literally any other man but him. He turns and our eyes meet. I quickly avert my gaze, but not fast enough to miss the lopsided smile tugging at his lips. I repeat it again and again in my head.

The knock at the door echoes through the suite. Soft and hesitant. I don’t move at first. I’m unable to. My body is conscious of him there, towering over me, caging me with those grey eyes that see too much. “Room service,” a voice calls. I want to crawl into a corner and disappear forever. But I force myself to stand even though my legs feel heavy like lead. I’m consumed by guilt for all the things I’d thought and said to him. “Room service,” the voice calls again. Zayn moves first. He goes to answer the door. I let out a heavy breath. My hand brushes my wrist instinctively. I look down at the inconspicuous number etched on my left wrist: 364. A day is gone. Three hundred and sixty-four days left to destroy the people who destroyed me. My throat tightens. What if I fail? What if nothing changes? What if fate still drags me to the same grave waiting at the end of the road? Revenge sounds beautiful when it lives in your head. In reality… it tastes like fear. I feel the ha

My father’s voice is sharp with fury. “You shameless girl!” I taste blood in my mouth. “Look at what she’s wearing,” Natasha sneers. “She was with that man. She’s been having an affair with him even before the wedding.” My mother’s eyes fill with rage. The old me used to hide under oversized clothes and face caps. The only time I dressed mildly decently was for work. My father shakes his head like I personally ruined his dreams of getting a cut from my secret trust fund. And yes, I did. I don't touch my face. I won't give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. The old Jade would cry. The old Jade would apologize. The old Jade would kneel and beg to be loved by them. But they killed her. I breathe in slowly. Daniel steps closer. “We can still make this right, Jade. We can still get married and live happily together.” I start to laugh. They all shift back, astonished. “What is wrong with her?” Mason asks. “She’s really possessed,” My mom says. “If that’s the cas

The gates slide open before us. I don't ask how. The place looks magical. It isn't a New York high-rise. It’s a sprawling, modern estate tucked away behind high walls. The mansion is in the middle of green lawns. The glass windows reflect the moonlight. “You live here with your family?” I whisper as we step into the foyer. “I live alone,” Zayn says. “All this is yours?” “And now it’s yours too,” he counters. “Everything I own is at your disposal. This house. The grounds. The staff. It’s your sanctuary, Jade. Or your cage. That part is up to you.” “Then why were you in a hotel?” “I told you. I was looking for a challenge.” What a strange man. He unlocks the door and pushes it open. The tension between us is choking me. Zayn steps inside with my bag. Slowly, he turns, like he knows I’m not following. “Are you coming in?” he asks. I swallow the lump in my throat. “I didn’t ask for a sanctuary,” I say defiantly. “And I certainly don't need a cage. I want space.” I can see his

“Enough!” Amanda barks. “Victoria is a Bennett! This girl is a nobody!” Zayn releases Victoria. Her eyes are wide with shock and disbelief. She stumbles back as she tries to hide her embarrassment. Zayn turns to his grandmother. His arm slides back around me, pulling me so close to him. “This girl,” he says, his voice dropping to a register that makes my knees weak, “is Jade Hemsworth. My wife.” Victoria speaks again. “She’s playing you, Zayn! Ask her about Daniel! Ask her about her wedding! She’s a whore looking for a paycheck!” I feel the shift in Zayn. He looks back at Victoria. “I know all about Daniel. I know all about the wedding.” The silence that follows is deafening. Victoria’s face goes white. Amanda has the same stoic expression that Zayn usually has. I can't tell what she’s thinking. But it’s clear she doesn't want me to marry her grandson. She’s glaring at me. “Arent you going to say something?” What should I say? Say the right thing. Don’t disappoint her.