Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 586: Richard and Sandra exchanged a knowing glance. They had been waiting for Axell to utter those exact words, like farmers eyeing the clouds, waiting for the first drop of rain. As long as Axell showed even a flicker of interest in Rosanna, the door to negotiation remained wide open. That was precisely why Richard had held his tongue earlier. Timing was everything, and he wanted to strike at the right moment to seize control of the negotiation. "Mr. Nelson, how do you feel about Rosanna? What I mean is... if she were to be with you, wouldn't that make us practically family?

So perhaps you could..." Richard tread carefully, picking his words as one might navigate a minefield. Any misstep could blow the entire deal apart. But before he could complete his thought, Axell straightened up in his seat and slid his leg off the table. He found the situation increasingly intriguing. The Morgans - of all people - were offering up their own daughter like a lamb to the slaughter, just to pull their son out of a jail cell? What man in his right mind would turn down such a gift? A wicked thrill coursed through Axell.

"Well, I know where you are coming from," he said, eyes gleaming. "If Rosanna's with me, that makes Jarrod my brother-in-law, doesn't it? We're family then - of course I'll sign the letter of understanding." Axell had long dreamed of finding a woman who was gentle, obedient, and utterly devoted - a puppet to dance to the tune of his whims. In Rosanna, he saw that perfect mold. Young, beautiful, and wild between the sheets - she was everything he desired.

Rubbing his hands with barely disguised eagerness, he asked, "So, when do you plan on sending Rosanna over?" Discover where it all happens: gⱯlnσνs․cøm Hearing his enthusiastic tone and catching the term "brother-in-law," Sandra and Richard assumed that Axell had serious intentions. They believed that he meant to marry Rosanna. They had no inkling that Axell had no plans for rings or vows - he simply wanted a plaything, a porcelain doll to display and dismantle at will. His taste for cruelty, especially toward women, was no secret. Richard felt that the pieces were falling into place.

Both parties had laid their cards on the table. Jarrod would walk free, Rosanna's future would be "secured," and the Morgan family could finally slip out from under Vince's shadow. In his eyes, it was a masterstroke - a clever bargain struck at the right time. "Then it's settled! We'll go back and explain everything to Rosanna immediately." He hesitated, then added with a sheepish smile, "Mr. Nelson, since that's the case, would you mind issuing the letter of understanding now? No sense keeping Jarrod locked up when we're practically family, right?" But Axell's mood turned on a dime.

With a sudden slam of his palm on the table, the cups rattled like dice thrown in a high-stakes gamble. "Are you pulling my leg? You run a business too, don't you? Then you should know better than to talk like that. You just said we'd be family after everything is settled - so how can you expect the results before the transaction's complete?" His eyes turned cold, sharp enough to cut. The air seemed to thicken as he stared Richard down, leaving him gasping for room to breathe. "You want the letter of understanding? Fine. Then have Rosanna show up tonight.

If not, forget it!" And just to twist the knife a little deeper, he added with a smirk, "How long Jarrod stays locked up depends entirely on how quickly you move. And let me be very clear - I've already spoken to my people. In fifteen days, the case goes public in court. If you don't have my letter by then, Jarrod's goose is cooked. He'll be looking at three years in prison - minimum. And truth be told, I've hired the legal sharks from Zenith Legal. They're aiming for the jugular. He could be staring at ten years behind bars.

After all, a head injury isn't something the court takes lightly." The words hit like thunder on dry ground. Richard and Sandra felt the floor fall away beneath them. Every sentence sounded like an ultimatum carved in stone. Time was now the enemy. . . .