Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase

Chapter 47:

Only then did she realize that her pulse was pounding like a drum in her ears. “What does he mean, just come to him?” she muttered under her breath. “He said he wouldn’t let me down? What is this, some kind of rom-com line?”

She swallowed hard, but her mind betrayed her, painting a vivid image of Chris’ build — broad shoulders, a firm chest, and that tapered waist — even under layers of fabric, the outline was distracting…

If he took off his shirt…

Maia shook her head, rattled by where her thoughts were going. Was it the wine messing with her judgment, or had his playful tone lured her into this hazy state?

She slapped her cheeks to cool the heat, then leaned over the sink to splash cold water on her face. By the time she stepped out, the living room was empty. Chris must’ve already turned in for the night.

A strange, hollow feeling tugged at her chest — one she couldn’t quite explain.

The next day, Rosanna wandered into the dining room, arms stretching overhead as she yawned wide. With no classes or errands to worry about, it was a rare, peaceful morning. She thought back to Sandra’s words from yesterday — about marrying Vince — and a quiet smile spread across her face.

“What’s got you grinning this early?” Jarrod’s voice came from behind her.

Startled, Rosanna turned. “Jarrod? You came back last night?”noveldrama

Jarrod usually kept to his place downtown. When Maia still lived here, he’d barely set foot in the Morgan estate. But ever since Rosanna’s return, his visits had grown frequent. She had gone to bed early, thinking that he wouldn’t show.

Jarrod offered a nonchalant “yeah” and pulled out a chair before dropping into it.

Rosanna slid into the seat across from him. When she caught him rubbing his temples and looking vaguely disoriented, concern crept into her voice. “Are you okay, Jarrod?”

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Just then, Tricia came over with their plates.

Before Jarrod could respond, Tricia piped up, “He had way too much to drink last night. Came home muttering Maia’s name nonstop!”

Rosanna’s expression snapped from soft to sharp.

Jarrod shot Tricia a daggered look. She slapped a hand over her mouth and beat a quick retreat.

Rosanna’s voice turned icy. “Maia? Why were you talking about her?”

Jarrod barely remembered the night, patches of it lost to the booze. He spooned up some oatmeal and mumbled, “Ran into her at Starlight Bar. No clue what I even said. She just annoyed the hell out of me.”

Rosanna’s eyes narrowed. “What was she doing there?”

She’d never stepped foot inside Starlight herself, but everyone in Wront knew it was one of the classiest bars around.

Jarrod shrugged mid-bite, completely unbothered. “Probably broke. Looked like she was there singing for tips.”

Rosanna’s brow creased. Wasn’t Maia supposedly dating some wealthy guy? Why on earth would she end up performing at Starlight Bar?

Still, instead of calling her out, Rosanna angled her head with interest and asked, “How much do you think someone could earn performing there for just one night?”

Jarrod let out a dry, humorless snort. “With her talent? Maybe five grand, tops.”

“Five thousand’s not bad at all.” Leaning forward, Rosanna gave him a playful grin. “So if I performed there for a night, how much do you think I’d make?”

A memory flickered — Maia’s smooth, refined voice drifting through the noise of last night. Jarrod glanced at Rosanna and, with a flicker of awkwardness, said, “Hard to pin down a number, but you’re definitely a step above Maia.”

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