Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 693: Once again, it was Maia who stood at the center of her destruction. Always Maia, weaving through every thread of her downfall. Vince's heart belonged entirely to Maia, and every ounce of sympathy naturally flowed in Maia's direction. But what about her? Rosanna didn't know what she had done wrong. She found it hard to understand this world. All she'd wanted was to take back her life, to remove the woman who had stolen her place, to return to the world of privilege that should have been hers. Her dreams were simple enough.

To be loved, to marry into wealth, to live comfortably and earn the respect of others. Nothing more than that. Why did she, fighting to reclaim what belonged to her, still couldn't measure up while Maia, who had taken her identity, got to live so easily? She had only wanted to give Maia what she deserved, to let her experience the same bitter struggles she'd endured for years. What was wrong with that? Rosanna slowly picked herself up from the ground, her clothes dirty and torn, her hair a complete mess.

Just then, thunder rumbled across the sky as dark clouds gathered overhead, growing heavier by the moment. Rain began falling in heavy sheets. People on the street hurried for cover under shop awnings and into their cars, but Rosanna stood perfectly still in the downpour. She raised her hands upward, letting the rain wash over her as if it might cleanse away her guilt or release the anger and hopelessness building inside her chest. Water streamed through her hair, soaked into her collar, and ran between her fingers, leaving her completely drenched.

Yet she seemed completely unaware of the world around her. Check the newest chapters on gⱯlnσνs․com How desperately she wished that this was all just a nightmare, that she could open her eyes to find Maia still locked away, Vince still wearing her engagement ring, and Richard and Sandra still showering her with the same unconditional love as before, as if none of this devastation had ever touched their lives. But time moved in only one direction, and there was no undoing what had been done.

When Richard and Sandra stepped out of the venue, they caught sight of Rosanna's silhouette in the rain, her hair hanging in wet tangles around her shoulders. Richard's jaw tightened as he instinctively began to turn away. But Sandra's hand found his sleeve, her fingers gripping the fabric as she came to a sudden stop. She stared at Rosanna's solitary figure, tears mixing with the rain on her own cheeks. "Rosanna, she looks so..." Richard's brow furrowed with barely contained frustration. "Are you really thinking of forgiving her again?

If it weren't for her lies, how would our family have fallen this far?" His voice carried the weight of bitter regret, rough and weathered. "I can't... . . .