chapter 3

I stared up at Samwell in disbelief. The anger on his usually gentle face was something I'd never seen in two lifetimes.

He said, "Rosalie, I've had enough of your selfishness and willfulness. If you keep making scenes like this, don't ever expect me to marry you."

The three men helped Lotta up and stormed out, slamming the door. William even threw out a threat, saying he'd make me pay if I bullied Lotta again.

The doctor looked at me with a deep frown. The fall had made the injury to my right arm much worse.

He told me my right arm might be permanently damaged, and I could even lose proper use of my right hand.

Calmly, I texted Dad. I told him I wouldn't be marrying any of them.

Mom had passed away from an illness when I was very young. To keep me from being lonely, Dad chose three boys from the families dependent on him to be my companions.

They were my childhood friends, but they were also my destined husbands. Everyone assumed I would choose one of the three to marry.

But at some point, the flower they treasured in their hearts had changed from a rose to a lotus.

They never visited me again before I was discharged. I went home alone, took out the lotus brooch designs I had started long ago, and tore them to pieces.

I picked up my drawing pen. Ignoring the pain in my right arm, I slowly began sketching a new piece of jewelry.

I loved design. In my past life, I won first place in a design competition with that lotus brooch. In this life, I was determined to claim that top spot again. It was the beginning of my design career.

Just then, Samwell burst into my room.

"Rosalie, how could you throw a tantrum and tell your father you won't choose any of us?" He stormed over and grabbed my right hand—the one I was drawing with.

I flinched from the pain. Samwell let go instinctively and softened his tone.

"Stop with the attitude. I never said I wouldn't marry you. I'll treat you just as well as I did in our past life, as long as you ask your father to adopt Lotta."

I stared at him, my eyes wide, wondering if he'd completely lost his mind.

When I didn't respond, Samwell's embarrassment turned to anger. "Lotta feels so guilty because of what you said. She's even depressed now. I'm asking you to accept her as your sister to give you a chance to make things right."

I put down my pen, looking at him as if he were a complete stranger. "What does her depression have to do with me? I was the one seriously injured in the fire. I was the one left with no one to care for me."

"But you're the Bluth Family heiress. You have everything. Lotta has nothing."

All traces of gentleness were gone from Samwell. He grabbed my injured right arm and started roughly tearing at my clothes like a wild animal.

He said, "You just want to marry me, right? Well, let's make it official, then. Let's see if this satisfies you."

I struggled desperately, my screams bringing the servants running.

"Throw him out!" I shrieked, clutching my clothes.

Samwell never imagined he'd be thrown out of my house. In my past life, I had treated him so well, and everyone in the Bluths' house had respected him because of it.

"Rosalie, don't you dare come begging me to marry you!" Samwell yelled.

Holding myself tightly, surrounded by the wreckage, I finally broke down into heaving sobs.