From Terrorist Cell to Diamond Prison

Chapter 24

Rosalie's world was completely dark beneath the blindfold, but her voice cut through the silence, unwavering.

"Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

One of her captors answered in a calm, almost bored tone. "You'll find out soon enough. Relax, Miss. No one's going to hurt you."

The word "Miss" was all it took for Rosalie to piece it together. These people had to be from the Mitchell family. But why her? She had no leverage over them, nothing they could gain by pulling a stunt like this. What was the angle?

After what seemed like an eternity, they led her into a room. The blindfold was ripped off, and Rosalie blinked, trying to process her surroundings. What she saw hit her like a punch to the gut. It was her mother's old office, exactly as it had been over a decade ago, frozen in time, untouched.

"Brings back memories, doesn't it?"

That voice, smug, condescending, sent a chill crawling down her spine. She turned to see Harold walking in, a document in his hand, a smug grin plastered across his face.

"It's been a long time, Little Rosalie," he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery.

Rosalie's glare could've burned through steel. Memories flooded back, of Harold wreaking havoc on her parents' lives, even ruining their wedding day. Anger simmered beneath her calm facade, but she forced herself to stay composed.

"Harold," she snapped, "let me go."

Harold leaned back, his eyes scanning her with unsettling focus. "You really are a spitting image of my sister," he sneered. "And just as annoying."

He waved a hand dismissively, as though bored. "Life abroad must've been nice and cozy for you, huh? I guess Luke didn't teach you any manners. Here you are, in front of your elder, and not a single polite word?"

Rosalie yanked at the ropes binding her wrists, her voice sharp. "You don't deserve it."

That made Harold chuckle darkly. "You think you get to decide that?"

With a quick nod, he signaled a guard who stepped forward, untying her hands. Before she could fully react, a thick stack of papers slammed onto the desk in front of her.

"Sign it," Harold demanded, his voice oozing with arrogance. "Now that you're back in the picture, I can't have you running around causing problems. You forfeit your shares in the Mitchell family, and I'll make sure you're taken care of. How's that for a deal?"

Rosalie's heart dropped as she skimmed the paper. Her grandfather had left her half of the family shares, half. And Harold, predictably, wanted them for himself.

Before she could even respond, Harold leaned in, his hand locking around her neck just enough to send a clear message.

"You'd better think this through," he hissed, his breath hot against her skin. "No one's here to save you."

Rosalie met his cold gaze, her voice steady despite the fear clawing at her chest. "I'll never sign it."

Harold's sneer deepened. "Oh, that's not up to you."

Two guards moved toward her, grabbing her arms, trying to force her hand onto the paper. Rosalie thrashed against them, her voice rising with fury.

"Let go of me!"

Harold watched with twisted amusement. "This is my turf, Rosalie. Who's gonna save you here? You think anyone gives a damn?"

Her voice grew louder, filled with sharp anger. "Uncle Harold, let me go, NOW!"

Harold leaned back, arms crossed, clearly savoring the moment. "Go ahead. Try to stop me. I'd love to see you, "

The door suddenly burst open with a loud crash, cutting him off mid-taunt. Everyone turned as Luke stormed in, his expression as cold as ice, making the room feel ten degrees colder.

"You wanted to see something?" Luke's voice was dangerously calm as he approached Harold. "Here I am."

Without hesitation, he pulled Rosalie into his arms, his sharp eyes scanning her for injuries.

Harold chuckled, his voice dripping with mockery. "Shouldn't you be off chasing my sister? What's the deal here, Luke? Playing knight in shining armor?"

Luke stepped forward, his voice low and menacing. "I told you once. Don't touch Rosalie."

Harold's smirk faltered for a split second, but he quickly regained it. "You're serious? You'd really cross me for her? What's the story, huh?"

Luke didn't waste words. Instead, he swung, his fist connecting with Harold's jaw in a satisfying crack.

The room erupted into chaos. Punches flew, furniture toppled, and everything spiraled into a blur of violence.

Amid the scuffle, a man approached Rosalie, gently guiding her toward the door.

"Don't worry, Miss," he said quietly, his voice calm in contrast to the chaos. "Mr. Williams has this under control."

Rosalie barely registered his words. It wasn't surprising that Luke had connections within the Mitchell family, that part was obvious. But right now, she couldn't focus on the "why." She had too much to process, the threats from Harold, the shares, and the fact that Luke had shown up just when she thought no one would.

For now, all she could do was let herself be led away. She had more important matters to focus on.