Love Unanswered

Rosalie Lardner has 19 chances to get Brandon Searle into bed. Succeed just once, and she wins. Fail all 19, and she loses the title of "Mrs. Searle" for good. This is the bet she made with Brandon's stepmother—a deal she signed with complete confidence. But unfortunately, she fails every single time. Eighteen attempts, 18 failures. Now, it all comes down to the 19th try. Chapter 1 "You'll have 19 chances to get Brandon into bed. Succeed just once, and you win. But if you fail all 19 times, you'll have to give up the title of Mrs. Searle and divorce him." Rosalie Lardner stared at Nina Monroe, Brandon's stepmother, as she pushed the betting agreement across the table. For a newlywed like Rosalie, it seemed like an easy win. She signed the agreement confidently. "Fine. You've got a deal." But after 18 tries, she hadn't managed a single win. On her 19th attempt, Rosalie pulled out all the stops. She slipped Brandon a strong drug and slid into his bed wearing nothing but a sheer, seductive outfit. This time, she was sure she had him. But even with the drug burning through his veins, Brandon somehow found the strength to shove her off the bed with a brutal kick. "If you ever spike my food again, don't expect me to hold back just because we're married," he growled. His face was flushed, and his body shook from the drug's effects. Brandon was barely holding himself together, yet he still refused to give in to her. Staggering upright, he called for his driver and left the house. Rosalie stood frozen, watching numbly as his taillights vanished into the darkness. He was going to find someone to help him ride out the heat. He was going to Nina. Rosalie sat on the cold bed, her heart aching as she spent the night lost in thought. Over and over, her mind replayed Brandon's promises—the vows he'd made when he proposed their secret marriage. He had sworn to cherish her for a lifetime. Yet he wouldn't even lay a hand on her after the wedding. … The first light of dawn had barely touched the Searle residence when Brandon's Bentley rolled up the driveway. But instead of Brandon, Nina stepped out. Wearing a grin like the cat that got the cream, she sauntered up to Rosalie and handed her a divorce agreement. "It's been 19 failed attempts, hasn't it? A year ago, you were so sure you'd win. Did you honestly think marrying him meant he'd actually share your bed every night? Or that he'd just forget about me because I'm his stepmother?" Rosalie's jaw tightened. Just as Nina had said, her year of marriage to Brandon had been completely hollow, devoid of intimacy or love. No matter how hard she tried to tempt him, his expression never changed. That cold indifference never wavered. The one he loved would always be Nina—his ex-girlfriend and the woman who had married his father for money. In the end, Rosalie could only bow her head in surrender. "I give up. He's yours now." The first time she saw him played in her mind like a memory. She was 19 that year; he was 23. The Lardners and the Searles had been bitter rivals for years, their feud deep-rooted and unyielding. But that night, they found themselves at the same gala, and from across the room, Rosalie noticed Brandon in his understated suit. He stood apart from the rest—quiet, serious, untouched by the extravagance around him. People called him the "odd saint" of the wealthy elite. He kept his distance from women, never touched liquor or cigarettes, and wore an amethyst pendant with a silver setting that had the face of a saint engraved into the metal. His eyes held the same quiet kindness as the figure stamped there. One glance and Rosalie was already his. When Nina appeared before the crowd, arm-in-arm with Brandon's father, Declan, Brandon's face twisted in pain. Later, Rosalie's sister, Julie, filled her in. "Nina is Brandon's stepmother. She only married Declan last year. But before that, she was Brandon's first love. They dated for six years. Rumor has it among the wealthy circle that they're still involved. That's why he wears that saint pendant. He's guilty and afraid karma will come for him." Rosalie didn't believe it until she stepped away to use the restroom that night at the gala. She was about to reach for the door when she heard Nina's moans from inside. When she cracked it open, she saw Brandon pressing Nina against the sink, their bodies moving in a frantic rhythm. Then, Nina tilted her face toward Rosalie, her lips curling in a vixen's grin. That was when Rosalie realized Brandon loved Nina. Yet she still fought her way into taking Nina's place. She lied to her parents to get close to him, confessed her feelings in secret, went out of her way to please him, and loved him without self-respect. He finally proposed the year she graduated. But with the generations-old feud between the Lardners and the Searles, their marriage had to stay hidden. On the day they got their marriage certificates, Brandon vowed to treat Rosalie well for the rest of his life. But that very night, he left her alone in their home. After that, whenever Rosalie tried to get close to him, he'd push her away with excuses, saying he didn't like "loose" women and that she should act more reserved. Then, just three months into their marriage, Declan died of a heart attack. After pretending to mourn for a short while, Nina stopped altogether. She confronted Rosalie directly. "You saw what was going on between Brandon and me years ago with your own eyes. Now that Declan's gone, I'm free. And you? You need to stop clinging to him. Here's the deal. I'll give you 19 chances. If you actually manage to sleep with him, I'll walk away. But if you fail? You leave him for good." Rosalie wasn't about to turn down this bet. If she won, Nina would back off and stop meddling in her relationship with Brandon. She tried 19 times to seduce him, and 19 times, he left her humiliated. The first time, Rosalie perched herself demurely on Brandon's lap. He frowned, stood up, and walked straight to his study without a word. The second time, she doused herself in perfume, slipped into skimpy lingerie, and made sure he noticed. Again, he walked away like she wasn't even there. From then on, Rosalie became more and more desperate. She cast aside whatever scraps of dignity she still had, even resorting to drugging him. By the 18th try, she was boldly straddling Brandon's lap and rocking against him to seduce him. He shoved her down onto the bed without warning. Just when she thought she'd won, he snarled, "You're such a shameless woman. You make me sick." His words cut straight through her heart, tearing apart every last bit of hope and love she had left. Then, in a flash, she remembered what she had seen in the restroom that day—Nina's legs wrapped around his waist, her moans filling the air as he thrust into her, breathless with lust. Everyone always said Brandon was celibate and had no interest in women, but that was just a façade to hide his forbidden love. His marriage? It was nothing more than a cover. And yet, Rosalie had spent all this time lying to her parents for Brandon's sake. How pathetic. The truth finally became clear to her. With bitter resignation, she turned to Nina and said, "I'm leaving Brandon. I've already signed the divorce agreement. He'll find it waiting when I'm gone." Nina didn't bother asking where she was going. Her only response was a cold reminder. "You've got ten days at most. Don't get in the way of my future with Brandon." Rosalie nodded. Ten days were more than enough to wrap up her move abroad. She had only stayed in the country for Brandon. But now, at last, she was leaving to reunite with her parents and Julie overseas. Chapter 2 That night, Brandon finally came home. As usual, he went straight to his study to sort through some company documents. But after working for a while, he realized Rosalie hadn't come to see him. She usually went out of her way to tempt him into bed, but tonight, she was oddly quiet. Frowning, he got up and headed to their bedroom. When he opened the door, she wasn't there. Something wasn't right. As he stepped back into the hallway, he heard a maid's voice from downstairs. "Mrs. Searle, you're back." Rosalie nodded and walked upstairs, only to meet Brandon's gaze the moment she reached the top. His voice was flat. "Where have you been?" Rosalie almost laughed scornfully. Since when did he care where she went? "I mailed something." She had arranged for the divorce agreement to be mailed to him. By the time Brandon got it, she'd be gone. So, she added, "Consider it a gift. You'll see what it is in ten days." Brandon scoffed. "You always pull this weird stuff. We live together. Couldn't you have just given it to me in person?" He remarked coldly, "Pathetic." Then, he returned to his study. Soon, he wouldn't have to put up with her pathetic self anymore, Rosalie thought. They'd never have to see each other again. She'd be gone in ten days, and he'd finally reunite with Nina just as he wished. With that thought, Rosalie stepped into the bedroom and started packing. She left behind everything he'd ever given her, including clothes and shoes. Even their only wedding photo went into the cardboard box. When Brandon walked in and saw the half-empty room, he frowned. "What are you doing?" "I'm starting fresh. Out with the old, in with the new." Brandon picked up the framed wedding photo from the box. "And how exactly are you going to replace this?" Rosalie met his gaze. "If I asked you to take a real wedding photo with me, would you even say yes?" Because they had married in secret, their marriage was never announced to the public. Even this simple, privately taken wedding photo had been done according to Nina's demands. She had butted into everything, wielding her role as Brandon's stepmother like a weapon. "You know how things are between our families. We can't exactly go taking wedding photos out in the open," Brandon said, tossing the framed picture back into the cardboard box. Rosalie's eyes darkened. He glanced at her and suddenly said, "If you want to go on another honeymoon, I can clear my schedule." Rosalie looked up at him, barely able to believe what she was hearing. "Really?" He nodded. "I was swamped with work the first time. Think of this as my way of making it right." But before she could get a word out, his phone rang. It was that particular ringtone he'd set just for Nina. He picked up, and Nina's voice came from the other end. "Brandon, they moved the auction up. You need to get here now. I'll be waiting." "Got it. On my way." Brandon hung up and turned to Rosalie. "Don't wait for me for dinner. I'm heading to an auction." Normally, she would've just agreed and let it go. But this time, she said, "I want to come with you." "It's the Searles' business. Why would you need to be there?" Rosalie countered, "I can keep Nina company. She's always by herself. Don't you think she'd appreciate having someone there?" Brandon frowned. "Suit yourself." As Rosalie settled into the car, she immediately noticed that all the hanging ornaments had been replaced with her least favorite color—purple. It was also Nina's signature shade. Brandon caught her expression and shrugged. "The old ones were worn out, so I picked these up recently." Rosalie forced a smile and stayed quiet. When the two arrived at the auction venue, Nina and the company employees were already seated. Brandon walked over and took the seat beside her. Under the pretense of discussing work, they leaned in close, their hushed conversation intimate enough to shut out Rosalie, who sat nearby. A few big shots invited Nina to a private lounge during the intermission. Meanwhile, Rosalie stepped out to take a phone call. She was in the middle of resigning from her job. As she passed by the lounge, she caught snippets of the men inside taunting Nina. "Must be lonely with your husband dead, huh? You're still young. How do you spend those long, empty nights? Why not... let all of us here keep you company? We know you've got a taste for older men." The moment Nina's sharp cry rang out, Rosalie saw Brandon rush past her. He shoved through the lounge door and hauled the lecherous old guy away from Nina. Chapter 3 Hank Renfrow, the old industry titan, took one look at the situation and immediately understood. "Well, well, if it isn't Mr. Searle? You're usually so cold and controlled, but the second someone messes with your stepmom, you just lose it, don't you? Now that you've taken over the Searle fortune, what's next? Are you planning to take her too?" The crowd burst out laughing. Before Brandon could react, Nina grabbed his arm and pulled it down. He swallowed his anger, let go of Hank, and snatched up a glass to ease the tension. "I respect every one of you here. That was out of line, and I apologize. Let me propose a toast to all of you." Rosalie stood outside the door, her heart aching as she watched the scene unfold. Everyone knew Brandon never drank. But tonight, he downed three glasses for Nina's sake. Still, the big shots weren't satisfied. They insisted Nina drink three rounds herself. Brandon stepped in front of her, shielding her from their demands. "Her health isn't good. She can't handle alcohol. I'll drink for her." "Well, Mr. Searle, if you've already had three, what's a few more?" They refilled his glass again and again until he had downed more than a dozen drinks. By the time the bottles ran dry, even the big shots had to admit they were impressed by how much he could hold. "I've been drinking with you all today, so just do me this one favor—leave my stepmom alone. Push me on this and you'll wish you hadn't." Without another word, Brandon grabbed Nina's hand and strode out of the private lounge. He didn't see Rosalie standing just outside. In his hurry, he threw the door open with such force that it sent her sprawling to the floor. As she fell, an antique vase toppled from the cabinet, striking her head with a sickening crack. Blood immediately began pouring down her face, drenching her outfit in crimson. A horrified waiter scrambled to call an ambulance. Rosalie lifted her head, her vision swimming with blood. The only thing she could make out was Brandon walking away with Nina without a glance back or even a flicker of recognition that she had ever been there. And this was the man she had chosen to marry in secret, betraying her parents, friends, and everyone who trusted her. She knew better than anyone how the Searles had nearly crushed the Lardners years ago and almost ruined her father, Rolf. And still, she had loved Brandon against all reason. A bitter laugh tore from her throat. She had no one to blame but herself. Half an hour later, an ambulance took Rosalie to the hospital. She had her head wound treated alone. There were ten stitches in total. That night, she stayed in the hospital by herself. … Rosalie woke up the next morning to find that Brandon still hadn't called. She checked her phone and saw the video Nina had posted the night before. No faces were visible, but Rosalie immediately recognized Brandon's hands blow-drying Nina's hair. The caption was pure Nina, sly and misleading as always. "He worries I'll get lonely, so he stays with me sometimes. He has grown up so thoughtful, making me proud." The whole act was just a front for what was really happening between Nina and Brandon. Somehow, everyone bought it. Rosalie's blood boiled. This was how Brandon and Nina had tricked her into a bland marriage. She had given up everything for him, molding herself into his perfect woman. She even stopped drinking her favorite wine because he couldn't stand the smell. And for what? In the end, he still chose Nina. The moment the idea struck her, Rosalie picked up the phone and called a reporter. "Mr. Declan Searle's widow is having an affair with some man at Searle Manor. Stake the place out and you'll get your front-page scoop." It hadn't even been a year since Declan's death. For someone of the Searles' standing, Nina jumping into a relationship with Brandon so soon was sure to cause a scandal. But after two hours, there was still no sign of the photos online. Just as Rosalie was about to leave the hospital, Brandon's call came through. His voice was cold. "Get to Seaforth Club. Now." Chapter 4 An hour later, Rosalie arrived at Seaforth Club. The second she pushed open the private room door, her gaze landed on Nina perched beside Brandon. Nina wore sunglasses and a hat, bundled up like she was trying to hide from the world. She dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief. Brandon kept his distance from Nina, but Rosalie could still see the worry in his eyes. He didn't even notice the bandages wrapped around Rosalie's head. He might not have realized she was there if she hadn't spoken up. "Why'd you call me here?" Rosalie muttered. Brandon finally turned to look at her, his eyes locking on hers as his forehead creased in a frown. "Did you call the reporters this morning?" Rosalie went still. Her gaze flicked instinctively toward Nina, who had already removed her sunglasses. The bruise around her left eye was now visible. When Rosalie remained silent, Brandon's disappointment deepened. "I had someone track the call made to those reporters. It came from your number. They confirmed a woman tipped them off about a huge story. That's why they swarmed Searle Manor. Do you even realize how far you've crossed the line? One of them barged in for a photo, and his camera slammed right into her eye." Nina cut in, "Drop it, Brandon. Maybe we were wrong about Rosalie. Why would she work with the media to slander me?" Brandon's gaze turned frosty as he stared Rosalie down. "Was it you or not?" Rosalie had only told them the truth. What was so bad about that? Her lips curled into a bitter smile. She had spent the entire night alone in the hospital, nursing the head wound Brandon had given her. Had he even bothered to check on her? Now here she was, right before him, and he didn't give a damn. But the moment Nina shed a few tears, he was suddenly grilling Rosalie like a criminal. Another sharp crack splintered through Rosalie's heart. "If you weren't at Searle Manor, how would you know all this so well?" she shot back. Brandon's expression went cold. Rosalie didn't let up. "If you're calling it slander, then you must think Nina's innocent. Or do you actually believe she'd find another man shortly after your father died?" His gaze turned dark. "Don't be ridiculous. She'd never do something that stupid." Nina jumped in quickly, saying, "Rosalie, don't get the wrong idea. These reporters will spin anything for a headline. Brandon's only looking out for the Searle family name. He's already spent a small fortune keeping those reporters quiet. Nothing damaging will get published." Rosalie bit her lip, keeping quiet. Nina had already won the bet, but that didn't stop her from throwing Brandon's favoritism in Rosalie's face in the last ten days before Rosalie left. The only thing Rosalie was grateful for was having signed the divorce agreement. At least she wouldn't have to suffer this humiliation every single day from now on. "Alright, let's drop today's matter," Nina said before changing the subject. "Rosalie, what happened to your head?" Rosalie didn't respond. Brandon glanced at her. "She must've bumped into something." "The wound's bleeding, though. I'll get someone to bring fresh bandages." With that, Nina strode out of the private room. When only Rosalie and Brandon were left, he sighed and said, "Whether you called the media or not, I want you to stop going after Nina and doubting her. She's already in a tough spot without her husband to support her." Rosalie's fists clenched tightly. And what about her own husband? Who was he supporting? "Regardless, she's still my stepmom. I'll appreciate it if you treat her well," Brandon added, gently taking her hand. "Be kind to her, and I'll be even kinder to you." Rosalie couldn't stop the bitterness that twisted inside her as the words tumbled out. "Have you ever thought of me as your wife, Brandon?" "Of course." "Then why would you let your wife suffer like this?" Before Brandon could answer, a frantic shout cut through the air from outside the private room. "Everyone, out! There's a fire!" Brandon tensed up, immediately dropping Rosalie's hand before darting outside. Chapter 5 Seaforth Club was in complete chaos. An electrical fire raged out of control, filling the halls with thick smoke as Brandon frantically searched for Nina. Meanwhile, Rosalie had just stepped out of the private room when the panicked crowd shoved her back inside. The door slammed shut behind her, locking her in. Desperate, she banged on the door. "Help! Let me out! Is anyone there?" But everyone was too busy scrambling to escape the burning club. Her shouts were lost in the chaos. Smoke slithered in through the door gap, sending Rosalie into a fit of violent coughs. She yanked off her coat, pressed it tightly over her nose and mouth, and bolted for the window. Just as flames surged into the room, she clenched her teeth, rammed her shoulder into the glass, and leaped. Seaforth Club loomed three stories above the ground. The landing sent a jolt of pain through her body, leaving her unable to drag herself forward. Her legs burned, and it felt as if they had been smashed to pieces. Just then, she caught sight of the fleeing crowd. There was Nina, freshly rescued, hovering over Brandon's unconscious form on a gurney. A knot of dread coiled in Rosalie's chest. Biting back the pain, she forced herself up just in time for the paramedics to grab her and bundle her into an ambulance. When they finally reached the hospital, Rosalie ignored her own injuries and hurried straight to Brandon. He was being wheeled into the emergency room, his legs covered in bloody burns. "Brandon!" Rosalie stumbled after the gurney, her eyes wild with fear. But the first thing he said when he weakly opened his eyes was, "Nina... Where is she? Is she safe?" Rosalie went still. His voice was faint as he continued, "Let me see her. I need to know she's safe..." The doctors rushed to wheel him into the emergency room, but he kept calling for Nina, insisting on seeing her before they treated him. Rosalie's voice was desperate. "Brandon, please! You need help now. Your burns are bad. You can't wait!" But Brandon didn't care about his injuries. There was only one thing on his mind. "Nina… I need to see Nina…" Rosalie staggered back a few steps at his desperate calls, her eyes glistening with tears. He had already thrown away his life once, leaving her behind in the flames to save Nina. And now, here he was, risking himself all over again just to ensure Nina's safety. Didn't he realize that the pain he was causing Rosalie now hurt more than dying ever would? At that moment, Nina finally hurried over, grabbing Brandon's hand from beside the gurney. "Don't worry about me, Brandon! I'm fine! You need help now. I'll be right here when you're done!" With just those words from Nina, Brandon finally relented and let them wheel him into the emergency room. The doctor approached, holding the surgical consent form. "Who here is family to the patient?" Rosalie instinctively rose to her feet, but Nina snatched the paper from the doctor. "I'm his legal mother. That means I'm the one who signs." With that, she shot Rosalie a smug look. And she was right. Rosalie and Brandon had married in secret. She didn't even have the right to call herself his family. Meanwhile, Nina could stand proudly by Brandon's side without question. As his stepmother, she wielded that title like a weapon, stealing every role that should have been Rosalie's. No one knew Rosalie was Brandon's wife. Sometimes, not even Brandon remembered. She sat slumped on the bench with her eyes fixed on the floor, her heart heavy with pain. Just then, Nina walked up. "You've seen it for yourself. No one can ever take my place in Brandon's heart. He'd die for me without a second thought. Marrying you was just a way to hide our relationship. I'm only showing you this because I want what's best for you so that you can finally move on. Don't waste another second waiting around for him." Rosalie shut her eyes. Holding back tears, she asked bitterly, "Do you really enjoy watching him live and die for you?" "I just need him to keep proving he loves me—the same way I love him with everything in me." "If you love him that much, why did you leave him and marry his father in the first place?" Chapter 6 Nina laughed. "Because Declan was richer than Brandon back then. I'd do anything for money, and now that Brandon has come into his family's fortune, of course, I'm sticking with him. "Do you even know how obsessed he was in those six years we were together? He has never wanted another woman the way he wants me. That's why none of your little seductions ever worked. He's been waiting for me. So, who exactly do you think you are to him? "At the auction last time, the emerald bracelet I wanted cost a fortune, but he didn't hesitate before buying it. When has he ever done anything like that for you?" Her words cut into Rosalie's heart like a dull knife, slow and painful. "Are you just trying to prove you can win at everything?" Rosalie shot back. Nina grinned. "Winning Brandon back from you is victory enough for me. Let's wait until he's out of surgery. We'll see whose name he calls first." Rosalie clung to a thin, desperate hope. Maybe Brandon still had some decency left in him. Maybe he'd spare her a single thought. At the very least, he might wonder whether she had survived the fire. She had loved him for 6 years. Even a pet cat or dog would've earned some affection by then. An hour later, when they wheeled Brandon out of the emergency room, he was still groggy from the anesthesia. Even so, the first name he mumbled was, "Nina..." Nina threw Rosalie a triumphant look. "Well? Guess this round's mine too." Rosalie watched as Nina walked over to Brandon's side, and just like that, her last bit of hope vanished. Over the next few days, Rosalie and Brandon remained in the hospital to recover. Day after day, Rosalie watched Nina hover around Brandon, never once stepping away. She didn't give Rosalie even a chance to get close to him. … On the evening Rosalie was discharged, Brandon stopped by her ward. He brought her a healthy meal and handed her an exquisite gift box. "Your birthday is in three days. There's a key inside. I left your gift in the walk-in closet. Just use the key to open the wardrobe, and you'll find the gift." Three days later would also be the day Rosalie was set to leave. She took the key, murmuring, "Thank you." As she grabbed her bag to finish the discharge paperwork, an immigration form slipped out and fluttered to the floor. Brandon picked it up, his brows furrowing. "What's this? You're moving abroad?" Rosalie snatched it back, lying smoothly, "A friend left it with me. I was just going to give it back." Brandon eased up a little. After a moment, his gaze lingered on Rosalie's haggard face before he said in a low and serious voice, "I'm getting discharged on your birthday. When that day comes, I'll celebrate with you, Rosalie. Just wait for me at home." Rosalie's heart lurched. Before she could say a word, Nina's voice echoed down the hallway. "Brandon, I made you chicken noodle soup…" The moment he heard her, Brandon walked out of Rosalie's ward without a second thought. Rosalie could hear the low murmur of their warm, familiar exchange. She scoffed to herself. She finished packing her clothes and got ready to leave the hospital. But the moment she stepped out of the ward, someone grabbed her and dragged her into the restroom down the hall. Rosalie looked up in panic to find Nina standing before her, her lips curled in a sneer. "Brandon just left your ward. Don't tell me you're trying to weasel out of our bet. You lost, so why are you still clinging to him?" Rosalie met her gaze, eyes blazing. "I'm not. I promised I'd leave him, and I won't back out now." Nina's expression hardened. "Then stay away from him. Quit showing up everywhere he goes." Rosalie couldn't be bothered to argue with Nina. She tried to get back up but accidentally knocked her foot against Nina's leg. Nina flew into a rage. "Shove her head into the toilet!" she barked at the people holding Rosalie down. They forced Rosalie's head down into the filthy water. Nina kept flushing over and over. Rosalie gritted her teeth, barely managing to keep from swallowing any of it. They would pull her up just long enough to grab a breath before shoving her under again. Rosalie kept count in her head—19 times. Nina had made them force her under that disgusting water 19 times. It felt like Nina was taunting Rosalie, throwing those 19 failures with Brandon right back in her face. Suddenly, the restroom door flew open. Brandon took in the scene with a scowl. "What's going on here?" he demanded. Nina quickly helped the soaking-wet Rosalie to her feet and made a show of wiping off the filthy toilet water dripping from her. With a smile, she turned to Brandon and said, "Rosalie dropped her earring in the toilet and decided to crawl in after it. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen. Right?" The others, already bribed by Nina, nodded eagerly before seizing the chance to slip away. Still gasping for air, Rosalie shoved Nina away and snapped, "That's a lie! You shoved my head under the water 19 times!" Nina ducked behind Brandon, putting on her best innocent look. "Brandon, I didn't do it. You've got to believe me." Rosalie turned to Brandon, her eyes begging him to be fair. But he said expressionlessly, "Just get a new earring. That toilet water's gross. Stop fishing around in it." Nina flashed Rosalie a triumphant smile, looping her arm through Brandon's as they walked out of the restroom together. Rosalie stood frozen, disbelief rooting her in place. Just like that, Brandon had chosen to believe Nina. He acted like he didn't see the filthy water dripping from Rosalie's clothes. They had dunked her head in that toilet 19 times. But none of it mattered, not next to Nina's lies. Rosalie gave a bitter laugh. What a pathetic joke she was. She shut her eyes, her fists clenched in rage as tears of humiliation spilled down her cheeks. Chapter 7 After getting discharged from the hospital and coming home, Rosalie started sorting through her things. She needed to pack up before she left. The cardboard boxes were filled with years of memories. She had written Brandon 101 love letters, pouring her heart out to him. In return, he'd only ever sent three replies, but she had cherished every single one. And then there was the saint pendant he'd given her. She'd once mentioned how much she loved the one he wore, and though he wouldn't part with his own, he had a matching one made just for her. Sure, hers was smaller, but just wearing a pendant like his had made her happy back then. Now, though, she knew the truth. He was only wearing his for Nina's sake. And Rosalie wanted no part of it. "You're throwing out the saint pendant I gave you?" Brandon's voice snapped Rosalie out of her thoughts. She looked up, startled. She hadn't even heard him come in. Now, he stood there with furrowed brows, staring at the cardboard boxes she'd been filling with discarded things. "I don't want it," Rosalie said flatly. "Why?" A flicker of surprise crossed his face as he took a step closer. "What's wrong with you all of a sudden?" Rosalie let out a hollow laugh. Of course, he had no idea why she was upset. His attention had always been fixed on Nina. As for Rosalie? She was just a useful smokescreen for what he really had with Nina. "Rosalie, you're not a kid anymore. Stop getting worked up over nothing." Brandon sat down beside her. "You can't just throw these away. I gave them to you. You should take care of them. I'll get you new ones if you don't like them anymore. We can go pick out different ones right now." This was just like him. Worried that his precious smokescreen might disappear, he'd throw her scraps of affection now and then, just enough to keep her hooked. And every time, Rosalie had taken them, savoring them. Even now, she hesitated. Just then, Brandon's secretary, Trent Crowley, burst into the room, frantic. "Mr. Searle, something terrible has happened! It's about Ms. Monroe!" Photos from Nina's private party had been leaked online. They showed her half-dressed and pressed up against a group of male escorts. She was even sitting on one's lap in some of the photos. Her behavior was shockingly inappropriate. Brandon stared at the photos, shock and anger coursing through him until his phone rang. It was Nina, her voice choked with tears. "Brandon, those photos aren't what they seem. Someone drugged me. This was all a setup by our rivals! I swear, I didn't do any of this!" With just a few words, Brandon believed her. She had been drugged. There was nothing she could've done. But now, he was left cleaning up her mess. The photos had already spread too far to be pulled back. After a brief pause, Brandon turned to Rosalie. "I'll hold a press conference. You'll take the blame for Nina. We'll say it's you in the photos. That should clear her name." Rosalie went still, and her voice cracked with disbelief. "Nina's reputation matters, but mine is disposable?" Brandon frowned. "My dad hasn't even been gone that long. If this gets out, it won't just ruin her reputation. It'll damage the Searles' reputation too. But you're different. You don't have to worry about status. A quick statement from you is all it'd take to stop the bad press." "But I'm a Lardner! Doing this will destroy my parents' reputation!" Brandon barely let her finish. "Do this for me, and I'll make it up to you. Rosalie, trust me. We'll have a good life together." Without another word, he shot Trent a sharp look. Trent called the guards. They gripped Rosalie by the shoulders, escorting her to the press conference venue against her will. Chapter 8 The press conference had been thrown together at the last minute, and Rosalie was practically shoved in front of the reporters and cameras for photos and a live broadcast. Reporters thrust the photos in the air, demanding answers. "Mr. Searle just released new information. Ms. Lardner, isn't this you in the photos with the blindfold?" "Did you frame Ms. Monroe for hiring escorts just because the Lardners and the Searles are sworn enemies?" "Ms. Lardner, answer the question! Is that you in the photo or not?" Rosalie clenched her jaw. The humiliation was unbearable. Why did she have to take the fall for Nina's ruined reputation? Why did she have to endure everyone's judgment? Just because Brandon didn't love her, did that give him the right to wreck her life? Rosalie couldn't swallow this injustice and shouted, "It wasn't me!" The reporters flinched, exchanging startled looks. Before Rosalie could say another word, Brandon and Nina stepped into the venue. The reporters quickly turned their cameras on the pair as they fired off questions. "Mr. Searle, Ms. Monroe, can you confirm who this person is in the photos?" Brandon stayed silent, his expression darkening. Nina's tears streamed down her face as she whispered, "It's Ms. Lardner. The Lardners have always hated the Searles. Now that Declan's gone, they're trying to ruin my reputation—" Rosalie couldn't hold back any longer. She burst out, "That's a lie! You were the one who framed me!" But then Nina glanced at the escort standing beside her. It was one of the men from the photos. The escort spoke up, addressing the reporters, "I can confirm it was Ms. Lardner that night. She dressed just like Ms. Monroe on purpose, hired all eight of us, and spent the whole night getting wild with all of us. She even said that her goal was to humiliate Ms. Monroe while the family was still mourning Mr. Declan Searle's death." The room erupted into chaos as cameras snapped back to Rosalie. Reporters yelled over one another. "Ms. Lardner, do you have any response to these allegations?" "How can you still frame Ms. Monroe with witnesses and evidence right before you?" "Aren't you worried about tarnishing the Lardners' reputation?" The questions pounded into Rosalie like relentless waves. Fear coiled in her chest as she kept shaking her head, muttering, "It's not me... The woman in the photos isn't me!" But no one was listening. Just then, Nina slithered over, oozing fake sympathy. "Rosalie, just admit your mistake. Everyone will forgive you if you apologize." Mistake? What had she even done wrong? Why should she be the one to apologize? A split second later, a shadowy figure lunged at Rosalie and Nina. He yanked open a bottle and flung its contents straight at their faces, snarling, "It hasn't even been a year since Declan's death, and you're already out there whoring around? I'll ruin your face for him!" The bottle was filled with sulfuric acid. Rosalie's eyes flew wide with horror, just in time to see Brandon charging toward them. As the acid splashed through the air, he threw his arms around Nina, shielding her as they hit the floor. The liquid splashed across Rosalie's hand, instantly searing her entire left arm. The flesh burned, nearly rotting on contact. Security tackled the assailant. It turned out to be an old friend of Declan's. Furious over what he had seen online, he'd come for revenge. Rosalie knelt on the floor, tears streaking her face as pain wracked her body. When she lifted her head, she saw Brandon steadying a shaken Nina, helping her up. "Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" he asked, his voice thick with worry. Nina gave a slight shake of her head. "I'm fine. But you! That was sulfuric acid! If it had hit you, it could've been… How could you risk your life like that for me?" Yet the only one truly hurt was Rosalie. Her heart shattered as she watched Brandon standing protectively beside Nina. Whatever love she still had for him finally burned out. He didn't care about her reputation. He didn't even care if she lived or died. She swore to herself that she'd never suffer for him again. Rosalie gritted her teeth, her tears spilling over. Her vision blurred, then darkened completely as her legs gave way and she crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Chapter 9 Rosalie spent the next two days in the hospital. Her left hand was swathed in gauze, the severe burns beneath sending sharp pulses of pain through her with every movement, forcing her to stay still and cautious. Meanwhile, Brandon was swamped with the fallout from the press conference. He didn't have time to visit, so he sent her bouquets—roses and baby's breath, the same flowers she had loved back in college. But the truth was, she had only ever liked them because Brandon liked them. And Brandon's preference? That came from Nina, who always wore the scent of roses. Rosalie stared at the vibrant roses, thinking that no matter how beautiful they were, they had never truly been hers. It was time to let them go. On the third day, which was also her birthday, her immigration paperwork finally arrived. She left the hospital and headed home to gather her things. Brandon wasn't there. The maid told her he hadn't come back in days. But Rosalie didn't care anymore. She slid off her wedding ring, set it on the bedside table, and wheeled her suitcase out of the Searle residence. The moment she stepped outside, Nina got out of a car, smiling at her. "I knew you'd be leaving today, so I came to say goodbye." Rosalie's eyes flashed with resentment as she strode toward Nina, her expression darkening. "Congratulations, Nina. You've won, and what a glorious victory it is. The signed divorce agreement will be delivered to Brandon today. Once he signs it, our marriage is over. "Now, there's nothing left standing in your way. He won't have to play the chaste martyr for you anymore. You two can do whatever you want. And I hope you both stay out of my life for good. This marriage will stay buried, like it never existed. The Lardners and the Searles will go right back to being sworn enemies." Rosalie gave a scornful laugh and brushed past Nina without a second glance. Nina called after her, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Thanks for knowing your place and giving him back to me." Rosalie stiffened, her breath catching. She bit down hard on her lip before stepping into a cab. As her cab pulled away, she spotted Brandon's Bentley approaching. The two cars passed each other, heading in opposite directions. Through the window, Rosalie caught a glimpse of Brandon, but he didn't see her. He sped straight into the Searle residence. Rosalie slowly turned her face away. Instead of sweet memories with Brandon, all that flashed through her mind were scenes of him chasing after Nina. When Declan accused Nina of seeing another man, Brandon had begged for mercy on her behalf. He took the lashes meant for her and knelt in the pouring rain all night. When Nina had acute gastroenteritis, Brandon abandoned Rosalie—who was lying in the hospital after minor surgery—just to rush to Nina's side. Even Rosalie's birthdays hadn't been spared. Every year, he had walked out the moment Nina called. Rosalie let out a bitter laugh. Then, before she could stop them, tears spilled down her cheeks. She swore this would be the last time she cried over Brandon. This year, she wouldn't waste a single hope of him showing up for her birthday. She was done putting up with his half-hearted companionship. Just then, her phone buzzed. A message from Brandon appeared. "It's your birthday today. Did you use the key I gave you to check the wardrobe in the walk-in closet? There's a surprise waiting for you." Rosalie didn't reply. She wiped her tears away, blocked Brandon's number, and erased every trace of him from her contacts. Then, she pulled out the SIM card and snapped it in half. The cab dropped her off at the airport, and she made her way to the departure gate. She looked up at the clear blue sky. The sunlight seemed brighter than usual today. Rosalie took a deep breath, savoring her hard-won freedom. "Goodbye, Brandon. Let's not cross paths again," she thought.