Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 708: Seeing Axell's bold signature and handprint on the document, he finally exhaled. The letter of understanding was real. Jarrod was saved. "Thank you... Thank you, Mr. Nelson..." He folded the document carefully, tucking it into his briefcase like it was made of glass. Axell looked at the humble man before him, his lip curling. "You really are pathetic." With that, he turned and headed back inside, Rosanna still unconscious in his arms. His eyes kept drifting down to her face, his new toy to do with as he pleased. Richard stood there, swallowing his pride along with the rain.

Meanwhile, Sandra watched the letter change hands, desperation breaking through her composed facade. "Mr. Nelson, you'll treat our Rosanna kindly, won't you?" The words escaped before she could stop them. Axell didn't even acknowledge her existence. He swept toward the villa's entrance, Rosanna's limp form cradled against his chest, before barking at the butler without a backward glance. "Show them out!" The door slammed shut with brutal finality. Rain lashed down with renewed fury. The butler's polite but firm gestures herded them toward the street, leaving them exposed to the storm's wrath.

Sandra clutched the umbrella with white knuckles, Axell's callous dismissal cutting deeper than the wind that sliced through her coat. Her body trembled - from cold, from rage, from the awful realization of what they'd just done. Under the umbrella, Richard stood frozen, his gaze locked on the document that had cost them everything. The paper felt impossibly heavy in his grip, as if it contained the weight of his daughter's future. Once, he'd commanded boardrooms and closed million-dollar deals with a handshake. Now here he stood, a broken man who'd traded his daughter for his son's freedom.

Find the latest updates g. Yet even as guilt gnawed at his chest, he couldn't shake the conviction that it had been necessary. After all, Rosanna was a living reminder of their family's disgrace. He glanced at Sandra's stricken face and softened his voice. "Let's go home. Tomorrow morning, we bring Jarrod back where he belongs." Sandra didn't move immediately. Instead, she gave one last look over her shoulder and let out a long, weary sigh before she turned and climbed into the car beside Richard. As the door shut with a dull thud, she turned toward her husband, her tone dry and brittle.

"Richard, do you think Rosanna will have a decent life from now on?" . . .