Chapter 298 — Legally His, Truly Hers
Chapter 298 — Legally His, Truly Hers
The car stopped so abruptly that the quiet street seemed to freeze in place.
Hazel blinked against the sharp brightness of the headlights. The sudden glare flooded her vision, forcing her to raise a hand to shield her eyes. For a moment she saw nothing but white light cutting through the darkness.
Then the headlights switched off.
The night returned.
The silence around the bus stop settled again, heavy and still.
The driver’s door opened.
A tall figure stepped out of the car.
Even in the dim glow of the streetlamp, the man’s presence was unmistakable—commanding, imposing, impossible to ignore.
Torres Rowan.
Hazel’s breath tightened the moment she recognized him.
Only moments ago she had been drowning in sorrow, sitting alone beneath the cold night sky with nowhere left to go. But the instant she saw her husband standing there, something inside her shifted.
Sadness vanished.
Anger took its place.
A fierce, burning anger toward the man who should have protected her.
The man who had allowed her to be humiliated, arrested, and dragged away like a criminal because of another woman.
Hazel turned her face away immediately.
She refused to look at him.
Refused to acknowledge his presence as he walked quickly toward her.
Torres had left the manor the moment he heard that Hazel refused to return home.
When Dario informed him that she had gone to her parents’ house instead, Torres drove there without hesitation.
But what he discovered there had shocked him.
Hazel’s own family had rejected her.
They had refused to let her stay under their roof.
Instead of protecting their daughter, they had pushed her out of the house as if she were nothing more than a burden.
They believed they were pleasing the Duke.
They believed their loyalty would earn his approval.
Instead, Torres had been furious.
His anger had surged the moment he realized what they had done.
“You abandoned my wife outside at this hour?” he had demanded coldly.
His voice had been quiet.
Too quiet.
The kind of calm that carried danger.
“You will learn very quickly what happens when you disrespect her.”
“And what happens when you disrespect me?”
He did not wait to hear their explanations.
He had no interest in their excuses.
Torres left immediately.
Because he knew Hazel.
She was proud.
Strong.
Stubborn.
And deeply wounded.
A woman like her would never return home easily after being humiliated like that.
So Torres began searching.
He ordered his security team to spread out across the nearby districts while he drove through the city himself.
Street after street.
Corner after corner.
His eyes scanned every sidewalk, every bus stop, every darkened street.
Minutes passed.
Then kilometers.
His tension grew heavier with every passing moment.
Until finally—
He saw her.
A small figure sitting alone at a bus stop under the weak glow of a flickering streetlight.
For a moment, his heart skipped.
Without thinking, Torres swerved his car across the road, ignoring the lane as he rushed toward her.
Now he stood in front of her.
Close enough to see everything.
Hazel’s face was pale.
Tear tracks had dried along her cheeks.
Her body trembled slightly in the cold night air.
Something tightened painfully inside his chest.
Guilt.
Regret.
Without saying a word, Torres shut the car door and walked quickly toward her.
But the moment Hazel noticed him approaching, she turned her face away stubbornly.
Torres stopped.
A small weight settled in his chest.
Yet strangely, there was comfort in her reaction.
At least she still had the strength to be angry.
Stubborn woman.
The thought crossed his mind with the faintest trace of reluctant amusement.
He removed his overcoat quickly.
Then he stepped closer and gently placed it around Hazel’s shoulders.
“You’re freezing,” he murmured quietly.
But Hazel reacted instantly.
“Get away from me!” she snapped.
Her voice cut through the quiet street.
She pulled the coat from her shoulders and tossed it aside.
Torres released a quiet breath.
But he did not give up.
He picked up the coat and placed it around her again.
Hazel tried to push it away once more.
This time Torres rested a firm hand on her shoulder, stopping her.
“It’s cold, Hazel,” he said in his deep, steady voice.
“Let’s go home.”
Hazel’s anger exploded.
She pushed both hands against his chest.
“Don’t touch me,” she snapped.
“And stop pretending you care.”
Her shove barely moved him.
Even so, Torres stepped back and lowered his hand.
“It’s not safe for you to sit here alone,” he said seriously.
Hazel gave a bitter laugh.
“Really?”
Her eyes flashed with anger.
“Where was this concern when you allowed your mistress to send me to jail?”
Torres’s jaw tightened slightly.
“Hazel,” he replied calmly, “I had no authority to interfere.”
His voice remained steady.
“If anyone else had accused you, I would not have stopped the law either.”
“For me, justice must remain fair.”
“For my people and my state.”
When Chloe had accused Hazel of pushing her down the stairs, Torres could not intervene openly.
If he protected his wife without evidence, people would accuse him of abusing his power.
So he had allowed the legal process to continue.
But the moment Hazel was taken away, he called his lawyer.
He had ordered him to arrange her release before she even entered a cell.
Still, Torres would never admit that.
His pride refused.
“Keep your explanations,” Hazel snapped.
Her voice trembled with anger.
“I don’t believe a word you say.”
Torres studied her quietly.
Arguing with Hazel now would change nothing.
Her mind was already set.
“Let’s go home,” he said again, his voice softer now.
“The temperature is dropping.”
“You shouldn’t stay out here.”
His eyes lowered briefly to her stomach.
“It isn’t good for the baby.”
He hoped mentioning their child might reach her.
In truth, Torres wanted nothing more than to lift her into his arms and place her safely in the car.
But he knew that would only make things worse.
Hazel was furious.
And the doctor had warned him that stress could harm both her and the baby.
He could not risk that.
“Don’t act as if you care about my child,” Hazel shot back bitterly.
“Especially when your mistress is carrying your baby too.”
Torres frowned deeply.
“What are you talking about?”
His irritation surfaced clearly.
“Chloe is not pregnant with my child.”
“I have never slept with her.”
Hazel laughed coldly.
“You can’t even lie convincingly.”
Her eyes burned.
“Your precious girlfriend told me everything.”
Her mocking smile widened.
“She told me every disgusting detail.”
“That’s impossible,” Torres said firmly.
He shook his head in disbelief.
“I gave you my word on our wedding night, Mrs. Rowan.”
His voice carried quiet authority.
“I told you I would not be with another woman while we are married.”
“And I have kept that promise.”
Hazel swallowed.
Her mind flashed back to their wedding night.
The condition she had given him.
He could only touch her if he promised loyalty.
And every time afterward, he had been with her only for one purpose.
To give her a child.
“Torres Rowan does not break his word,” he said calmly.
Hazel felt confusion stir inside her.
If he was telling the truth…
Then why had Chloe lied?
Why would she say such things?
Torres sighed quietly.
“Now that you have heard my answer,” he said.
“Can we go home?”
His voice softened slightly.
Hazel turned her face away.
“That house is not my home.”
“I will not live in your mansion.”
Torres rubbed his forehead slowly.
“Hazel,” he said patiently.
“You are the Duchess.”
“That house belongs to you.”
His voice became firm.
“You should return to the place that is legally and rightfully yours.”
Hazel looked at him silently.
The man standing before her was powerful.
Cold.
Distant.
Yet legally—
He belonged to her.
The thought made her expression tighten.
“Then I don’t want your girlfriend living in my house,” Hazel said firmly.
Her voice was cold and steady.
She expected him to refuse.
Expected him to argue.
Instead—
Torres exhaled slowly.
“Fine,” he said calmly.
“I will arrange for her to live somewhere else.”
He nodded once.
“Now can we go home?”
Hazel blinked slightly.
His calm agreement caught her off guard.
Still, she refused to look at him.
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Torres sighed.
His patience is thinning.
“Are you coming home, Mrs. Rowan,” he asked quietly.
“Or do I need to carry you there myself?”
His voice held a strange gentleness.
Hazel glared at him.
Still irritated.
Still angry.
But after a long moment—
She stood.
Without another word, she walked toward the car.
Torres quickly opened the passenger door for her.
Once she sat inside, he closed the door carefully.
Then he walked around and took his place behind the wheel.
The engine started.
Neither of them spoke.
And the car moved slowly through the quiet streets—
Carrying them back home.