Chapter 34 The Unblemished Rose

• The morning mist curled around Scarlett’s ankles as she stood on the front steps of the Whitmore Estate, her fingers brushing the delicate petals of the white rose in her hand. It was flawless, no thorns, no blemishes, no trace of the blood that had once stained every warning left in its place. Just pure, unbroken white, like the ones she and Damien had planted together in what felt like another lifetime.
• The breeze carried the faintest scent of jasmine and memory, but beneath it, something darker lingered—a whisper of danger, a ghost of the past refusing to stay buried.
• Behind her, the heavy oak door creaked open, and Damien stepped out, pulling on his jacket. His eyes locked onto the rose in her hand, and for a moment, his expression tightened.