From Terrorist Cell to Diamond Prison

Chapter 23

Two security guards, built like linebackers, hauled Fiona out of the room, her furious screams echoing down the hall. The humiliation on her face was plain, but Luke didn't even glance at her. He stood there, staring at the wreckage she'd left behind, dresses scattered all over the floor like discarded memories.

Luke's mind wandered back to when Rosalie was a little girl, spinning around in dress after dress, asking him which one she should wear. Her eyes would light up when he gave her a compliment, her laughter filling the air around them. He used to have all the patience in the world for her, soaking in her joy like sunlight. But somewhere along the way, he'd lost that part of himself. He hadn't been there for her the way he should've been. And now, with Rosalie gone, her absence felt like a weight pressing down on his chest. Her memory lingered, haunting him.

He snorted in disgust, tossed the room key at the hotel staff, and barked, "This room's tainted. Get me a new one."

Later that night, Luke was on the phone with the media, demanding they scrub every single mention of Fiona. He didn't want her name anywhere near Rosalie, didn't want her existence to taint the world Rosalie had once been a part of. Fiona was a mistake, and Luke was erasing her from his life. But no matter how much control he tried to exert, the emptiness inside him only grew. He couldn't escape the truth.

As sleep finally claimed him, his dreams dragged him back to the past, back to when he first met Rosalie. But this time, something was different. Her father, Robert Mitchell, wasn't there to leave her with him. That small change in the dream felt like a seismic shift, one that rattled Luke to his core. He woke up with a gasp, his body drenched in cold sweat. Rosalie's voice rang in his ears: "Who is it that you really love?"

The truth slammed into him like a gut punch. His love for her had always been weak, hidden, afraid, never enough. He'd failed her, again and again.

His phone buzzed, pulling him back to the present. He snatched it up, snapping, "What is it?"

The voice on the other end was urgent. "Miss Rosalie has been taken by members of the Mitchell family."

Luke shot out of bed, adrenaline pumping through his veins. He didn't waste a second. He was already heading for Harold and Fiona, no plan, no hesitation.

Meanwhile, Rosalie hadn't slept a wink. She was sitting at her kitchen table, sipping her coffee, when the phone rang. A police officer's voice came through the line, hesitant but urgent.

"The man convicted of causing your parents' car accident... he's suddenly claiming he was innocent. Thought you'd want to know."

Rosalie blinked, trying to process the words. "What does that have to do with me?"

The officer hesitated before answering, "Well... he's refusing to speak to anyone connected to the Mitchell family. You might be the only one he'll talk to."

Curiosity, mixed with a burning need for justice, pushed her to agree. Before long, she found herself in a prison visitation room, staring at a man who looked no older than his mid-thirties. He'd been a kid when the accident happened. Rosalie picked up the phone, her face impassive, as the man mirrored her action. His first words made her blood run cold.

"The people who wanted your parents dead... were Harold and Fiona."

For a moment, Rosalie sat frozen, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone. She couldn't even remember how she'd gotten to her car after leaving the station. Her mind was blank. Her hands shook as she picked up the folder Mr. Fitzgerald had given her. It was filled with years of shady dealings tied to Fiona, illegal activities, bribes, money laundering. Every villa in the district was registered under Fiona's name. The evidence was damning.

The officer's voice echoed in her head: "We hope you can remain calm. It's been years, and we still don't have solid evidence. But we'll keep investigating."

Rosalie clenched her jaw. She couldn't wait for the truth to come to her. She had to go after it herself.

Her thoughts spiraled as she sat in her car, staring blankly at the windshield. So deep in thought, she didn't notice the black SUV pulling up beside her until it was too late. The door flung open, and strong hands dragged her inside before she could even scream. The door slammed shut, plunging her into darkness.