Все главы Aretha Hawthorne: The Rise Of The Phoenix: Глава 11 - Глава 20

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚Marcos’s car slows to a smooth stop in front of an estate straight out of a European aristocrat’s dream. Towering Corinthian columns rise along the grand façade, their pristine white stone carved with intricate lines and details that tell of a wealth spanning generations. A stately pediment crowns the entrance, adorned with elegant reliefs, while wrought-iron balconies curve above tall, arched windows that gleam beneath the chandelier-lit interior. The mansion’s pristine symmetry, from its ornate cornices to the black mansard roof edged with decorative railings, exudes a timeless authority.At the heart of the circular driveway, a tiered marble fountain cascades in soft ripples, the sound blending with the distant hum of classical music being played inside. Sculpted hedges and ornate lampposts frame the path leading to the grand staircase, where a set of gleaming double doors await beneath an opulent glass chandelier.Against the backdrop of the dark but starry night sky,

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚Once inside the bathroom, I turn to the mirror, peeling his jacket off my shoulders. And then I see it.My dress.The cream-colored silk fabric has turned sheer from the spilled drink, clinging to me in a way that leaves almost nothing to the imagination.Oh my God.I slap a hand over my mouth in shock and mortification. That explains why Marcos had looked at me like that. That’s why he'd reacted so quickly, covering me up before anyone else could see what he had.Heat flares up my neck, all the way to my ears as embarrassment fills me.Grimacing, I grab some paper towels, dabbing at the stain, but all I manage to do is make the fabric look even worse. “Seriously?” I mutter, feeling the sting of frustrated tears prick my eyes.Gone is the satisfaction from putting Meagan in her place. This night is officially a disaster.The bathroom door swings open, and I tense, instinctively stepping toward a stall to avoid any further scrutiny. But before I can slip inside, a voice st

His smirk is the first thing I notice—lazy, cruel and mocking. It’s the same smirk he always wore when he made my life hell. The same one he’d had before I finally escaped him. Escaped all of them.My pulse roars in my ears. How? Why? Of all the countries in Europe, of all the places in this city of London, what are the chances that he would visit Mayfair and walk into this particular restaurant at night when I'm on duty?I stiffen as he leans closer to his friends, muttering something while keeping his eyes locked on mine. Their laughter follows a moment later as two of them turn in my direction before letting out wolf whistles that have me flushing in embarrassment. I don’t even need to hear the words to know exactly what he said to them. I know Tyler.I grit my teeth and try to focus on the piano, but it proves to be impossible as I'm reminded of what he did to me and how I hadn't even known about it until I'd heard it from Stella that day. How he'd seen me naked, touched me and do

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧The second Elena says yes, I don’t give her even a second to change her mind. With a grin, I extend my hand, guiding her toward our table before she can rethink her decision.Nathaniel watches her closely as she moves past him, those keen, unreadable eyes tracking every flicker of emotion that crosses her face. He doesn’t say a word—doesn’t need to. His silence alone is weighted, the kind that lingers, pressing against the skin like a slow burn. But as his friend, I can easily tell that he's worried about her. After what happened to her two days ago, the thought of which still makes my heart spike with fury, he's trying to see how she's doing. Marcos, on the other hand, wears his usual soft and easygoing grin, swirling the drink in his glass in a casual gesture even though just Nathaniel and I, his eyes are trained on Elena, watching to gauge her every expression.All three of us have vowed to find the bastard who did that to her and make him pay but before then, taking

𝐒𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐚I almost lose my grip on my shopping cart as it rolls forward, nearly slamming into the opposite stall but I manage to stop it in time. “Oh! I—I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to,” a voice stammers from behind.I turn, eyebrows furrowing as I take in the man in front of me. He’s wearing a suit, but it’s slightly rumpled, like he’s been tugging at it all day. His glasses are slipping down his nose, and his fingers tremble as he quickly crouches to grab some boxes that had fallen from a nearby stall.“It’s fine,” I mutter, but something about him puts me on edge.His eyes dart around, shoulders twitching like he expects something or someone to appear. The nervous energy rolling off him makes my skin prickle.He places the boxes back on the shelves, offering a tight, apologetic smile. “Really, I—uh—wasn’t looking where I was going. This is my fault entirely.”I nod stiffly. “Like I said, it's fine. No worries.”I don’t wait for more conversation. Instead, I grip my cart and quic