Filed to story: The Heiress Rises From Ashes Book PDF Free
These designs, however, were merely decoys from past contests, set deliberately by Brenna to trap Rosie.
Thirty seconds later, the files were fully copied. Rosie let out a sigh of relief, removed the USB, shut down the computer, and stood up to leave.
Rosie spun around, coming face to face with Brenna. Startled, she dropped the USB, her expression mirroring the shock of encountering a ghost.
“What were you doing on my laptop?” Brenna asked as she bent down to grab the USB. “What did you take?”
Frozen with fear, Rosie recalled her earlier room check; Brenna hadn’t been there.
“Where did you come from? When did you get back?” she asked.
She snatched the USB back from Brenna, clutching it as she pondered her next move.
Brenna smiled faintly, standing in her path to block her escape. She said, “This is my room; do I have to inform you every time I come back? But you-what were you doing so secretly in my room?”
Rosie’s gaze darted to the now-open door of the walk-in closet.
“Were you hiding in there earlier?” she asked.
She realized her oversight; she had inspected every other room but missed the walk-in closet.
Brenna confirmed with a nod. “Indeed, I was. Now tell me, what were you really up to in here?”
Rosie noticed the confusion on Brenna’s face and believed she was likely unaware of what Rosie had done. “Oh, it’s nothing important. I was just checking if you were around. The cherries are quite delicious, and I thought I’d bring some for you.”
She extended a cherry toward Brenna. “Here, taste this.”
Brenna eyed the USB still in Rosie’s hand, then abruptly seized Rosie’s wrist.
The grip was crushing, pain radiating through Rosie’s arm. She cried out, “What are you doing? Stop, you’re hurting me!”
Her expression twisted in pain as Brenna’s grip tightened.
Rosie felt as though her bones were shattering, with a faint sound of them breaking in her ears. She had no choice but to let go of the USB. It hit the floor with a sharp snap.
“Brenna, are you ready?” Dalton knocked gently on the door before easing it open and stepping inside.
Rosie clutched her wrist, her face twisted in agony as tears cascaded down her cheeks. Pointing an angry finger at Brenna, she said, “Dalton, Brenna has been bullying me!”
She held out her wrist toward Dalton. “Look! My wrist is broken-it hurts like hell. Brenna just tried to straight-up kill me!” she exclaimed, exaggerating.
Dalton’s face hardened, his expression turning cold as he scrutinized Rosie’s wrist. “It looks fine to me,” he said.
Rosie was taken aback. Dalton had always been her guardian angel, fussing even over the tiniest nick. Yet now, despite her wrist being swollen and seemingly fractured, he dismissed it as nothing. “Dalton, my wrist is broken. Brenna twisted it. Can’t you see the damage?” she insisted.
The pain was undeniable-sharp and biting, freezing her movements with fear. She wasn’t being melodramatic; she truly believed her wrist was broken.
Meanwhile, Brenna stood nearby, arms folded, observing Rosie’s dramatic display with cool detachment. “Dalton, I didn’t harm her. She pilfered my things, and when I caught her red-handed, she concocted this story to deflect blame,” she said.
She extended a USB drive toward Dalton. “Here, see for yourself. It’s crammed with my design files that she has copied.”
The USB drive, equipped with dual connectors, could be seamlessly plugged into a phone.
Dalton’s brow furrowed as he accepted the USB and connected it to his phone without hesitation.
In a fit of desperation, Rosie lunged to reclaim the USB, but even the slightest movement sent a lance of pain shooting through her wrist. Sobbing, she exclaimed, “Dalton, my wrist is broken, and you’re just standing there, letting her slander me?”
Dalton glanced up and gave her wrist a careful examination, even bringing it closer for a closer look.
“Ah!” Rosie winced. “It hurts so much!”
Tears streaked her face as she whimpered, “Don’t touch it. My wrist is broken, Dalton. It really hurts!”
Dalton let out a cold chuckle. “Rosie, enough with the theatrics. There’s not even a hint of redness now. How could it still be hurting?” Without missing a beat, he took her wrist and turned it slightly, his brows lifting when he found nothing wrong.
“Ah!” Rosie’s scream echoed as she collapsed to the floor, tears pouring down her face.
The commotion drew the attention of the household staff, with Rachael and Julia arriving first.
Rachael immediately pointed a finger at Brenna. “Miss Brenna Harper, how dare you bully Miss Rosie Harper like this? This is going overboard!” she exclaimed.
Brenna responded calmly, “Did you actually see me bully her? Dalton is here too-why didn’t you accuse him of bullying her?”
Rachael scoffed as she helped Rosie to her feet, her voice dripping with disdain. “Mr. Dalton Harper has cherished Miss Rosie Harper since childhood. How could he ever bully her? It must be you who bullied her!”
Rosie, overwhelmed by pain so severe she could barely stand, leaned heavily on Rachael, her eyes burning with animosity toward Brenna. The absence of visible marks on her wrist baffled her; she could clearly feel the severe pain.
She shouted, “Brenna’s trying to kill me! I’ll tell Grandpa and Grandma!” She pushed at Rachael. “Go and call my grandparents over. I refuse to believe no one can see how badly I’m hurt.”
Dalton’s patience was wearing thin. Before his return, Rosie had filled the family group chat with negative tales about Brenna, turning everyone against her.
Now, back home, he witnessed firsthand how Rosie consistently targeted Brenna-and now she was even accusing Brenna of trying to kill her.
He raised his voice at Rosie. “Enough! Your wrist looks perfectly fine-it’s not even red. What exactly do you want?”
He turned to Julia. “Aren’t you a nurse? You’ve worked in the ER before. Examine her wrist now.”