Chapter 299 — A Dangerous Night

Chapter 299 — A Dangerous Night
Warmth embraced Hazel the moment she stepped inside Rowan Manor.

The heavy doors closed behind her with a quiet finality, shutting out the icy night, the loneliness of the empty streets, and the humiliation that had followed her since she left the police station. For a brief moment, she simply stood there in silence, breathing slowly as her body adjusted to the comforting warmth of the house.

Only then did she realize how deeply the cold had settled into her bones.

Before she could gather herself, Camille rushed toward her.

Elena followed just behind.

Both women reached her at almost the same time, their faces filled with concern. Their movements were quick, protective, and instinctive, like family members who feared she might break if they did not hold her steady.

Camille gently took Hazel’s arm, guiding her inside with careful attention, as if afraid she might disappear again if she loosened her grip.

At the same time, Elena noticed how pale Hazel looked.

Without a word, she hurried away and returned moments later with a cup of warm milk. Meanwhile, Camille had already begun giving orders to the servants, instructing them to prepare the dining table immediately.

Hazel opened her mouth to protest.

She wanted to tell them she was fine. That they didn’t need to fuss over her. That she could take care of herself.

But the moment she saw Camille’s expression, the words died in her throat.

There was something deeply maternal in the way Camille looked at her. Something instinctive and protective. Camille had taken one glance at Hazel’s exhausted face and understood everything.

Hazel was hungry.

Not just tired.

Not just emotionally drained.

Hungry.

The realization made Camille’s heart ache. Seeing her pregnant daughter-in-law looking so fragile and worn down stirred a deep protective instinct inside her.

“You are coming straight to the table,” Camille said gently.

Her tone was soft, but it carried quiet authority.

Hazel attempted a weak protest.

“Mother, I can eat by myself.”

But Camille shook her head firmly.

“No. Tonight you will let me take care of you.”

The words were simple, yet they struck somewhere deep inside Hazel’s heart.

So she allowed herself to be guided to the dining room.

Elena stayed beside her the entire time.

She sat next to Hazel, talking softly about ordinary things, steering the conversation far away from the painful events of the evening. She spoke about harmless topics, small everyday matters that required nothing from Hazel except that she listen and breathe.

Hazel understood exactly what Elena was doing.

She was trying to distract her.

Trying to keep her mind away from the terrible memories of cold accusations, handcuffs, and prison walls.

Little by little, it worked.

Hazel’s breathing slowly steadied.

She wrapped her hands around the warm cup of milk for a while before Camille gently insisted that she start eating.

Soon, dishes were placed in front of her.

Camille stood nearby, watching her closely, like a mother bird guarding an injured chick.

Hazel glanced at the two women beside her.

And a painful warmth filled her chest.

She could not stop comparing this moment to the life she had known growing up.

Her own family had never treated her with this kind of tenderness.

Never with this kind of concern.

She had always believed marriage would be nothing more than a polished prison. Beautiful on the outside, decorated with wealth and titles, but still a prison.

She had seen it happen to her sisters.

They had married powerful men and become decorations in luxurious homes that never truly belonged to them.

Hazel had expected the same fate.

And yes, her husband still kept another woman close to him.

Yes, Torres Rowan often appeared distant and impossible to understand.

And yes, there were moments when Rowan Manor felt less like a home and more like a stage where everyone already knew their roles except her.

But even with all of that...

Her life here was not the nightmare she once expected.

Because the kindness of Camille and Elena had changed everything.

They were warm.

Patient.

Kind in ways Hazel had never experienced before.

The realization overwhelmed her.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Hazel whispered suddenly.

Her voice trembled as she reached for Camille’s hand and pressed it against her chest.

“I made you worry.”

Camille smiled gently and wiped the tears gathering in Hazel’s eyes.

“No, my child,” she said softly.

“A mother worries about her children. That is not a burden.”

“That is love.”

Her voice grew warmer as she continued.

“You are my daughter just as much as Elena is.”

Hazel lowered her gaze, deeply moved by the sincerity in those words.

“Now eat properly,” Camille added kindly.

“And remember something important.”

“This is your home.”

“We are your family.”

“And we will always take care of you.”

Hazel nodded silently.

She focused on her meal, blinking back tears.

Slowly, the warmth returned to her body.

Beside her, Elena wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a small comforting hug.

It was such a simple gesture.

Yet it meant more to Hazel than words could express.

Because no one had ever comforted her like this without expecting something in return.

Still, even surrounded by kindness, Hazel could not completely silence the darker thoughts lingering in her mind.

She could not forget Chloe’s cruel words.

Or the pitying looks people gave her when they realized she was the legal wife in a marriage where another woman clearly held the Duke’s attention.

Chloe never hid anything.

She walked beside Torres openly, making sure everyone knew exactly what their relationship was.

Every glance, every mocking smile carried the same message.

You are only a wife in name.

Hazel had known from the beginning that Torres had not married her for love.

He had married her because duty required it.

Because the state needed an heir.

Because a Duke required a Duchess of proper standing.

She had accepted that reality.

What she had never expected was how cruel Chloe would become.

The woman had tried to destroy her.

Hazel still remembered that terrifying moment on the stairs.

Chloe had pushed her.

The intention had been clear.

If fate had not intervened, Hazel and her unborn child could have died.

Instead, Chloe had slipped and fallen h

And somehow, Hazel still ended up arrested.

Hazel knew something with painful certainty.

If she told Torres the truth—if she explained that Chloe had been the one trying to harm her—he would not believe her.

Or worse...

He would choose not to believe her.

He trusted Chloe too much.

And that truth hurt more than anything else.

After dinner, Hazel quietly excused herself and returned to her room.

She needed space.

Silence.

A moment where no one expected anything from her.

Inside the bedroom, she changed into a soft nightgown.

For the first time that night, she allowed herself to sit still and breathe.

But the quiet did not last long.

A few minutes later, the door opened.

Hazel looked up instantly.

Torres stepped into the room.

He closed the door behind him calmly.

For a moment, he simply stood there.

Then he walked toward the bed.

Hazel immediately sat upright, every muscle in her body tightening.

“Rest well, Mrs. Rowan,” he said coolly.

He did not even look at her.

He placed his phone on the bedside table and walked into the closet to change before disappearing into the bathroom.

Hazel waited.

Her hands twisted nervously together.

When he returned, she was still sitting there.

Torres paused when he saw her.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You’re not sleeping?”

Hazel looked at him steadily.

“I want a divorce.”

The words cut through the quiet room.

Torres froze.

He slowly turned toward her.

“What did you say?”

His voice had turned colder.

“I want a divorce,” Hazel repeated firmly.

Torres shook his head.

“Divorce is not an option in our marriage.”

His tone was calm, but unmistakably final.

“I can’t live with you,” Hazel snapped.

“This!” she said, pointing at him.

“I can’t live with someone who acts like my feelings mean nothing!”

Torres set his phone aside and faced her fully.

“You want to talk?”

His voice softened slightly.

But Hazel’s anger had already taken hold.

“I want a divorce!”

“That will not happen,” he replied calmly.

“Then I will run away,” Hazel said defiantly.

“Somewhere you can never find me.”

Torres leaned closer with a faint smile.

“I would like to see you try.”

“There is no place I cannot reach.”

“No place I would not find you.”

Hazel’s frustration exploded.

“Then I will—”

She stopped when Torres suddenly grabbed her arm.

“You will never think about harming yourself,” he said firmly.

“You are mine.”

Hazel met his gaze fiercely.

“No. I am not yours.”

Torres’s voice lowered.

“Yes. You are.”

Before she could react, he lifted her gently and placed her on the bed.

“Just as I am yours.”

He leaned down and kissed her.

At first, the kiss was slow.

Careful.

But Hazel resisted.

And that resistance changed everything.

The kiss deepened.

His touch grew more possessive, more certain.

Slowly the tension between them melted into something intense and overwhelming.

The anger that had filled the room slowly dissolved into something far more powerful.

Soon the night wrapped around them completely.

Their emotions, their frustrations, their longing—all of it poured into that single moment between them.

They forgot the world outside the door.

Forgot the expectations.

Forgot the rules.

But someone else did not forget.

Outside the room, Chloe stood silently in the corridor.

Every sound reaching her ears felt like poison.

Her fists tightened slowly.

Her expression twisted into something dark.

She stood there for a long moment.

Then she turned.

And walked back toward her room with quiet, dangerous determination.