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Bella’s breath caught in her throat as she watched the scene unfold.
The jade bracelet that Nigel had given her, her favorite piece, was shattered by Rosalind with a cruel and deliberate force.
It was gone—destroyed so easily, and the pain in Bella’s chest mirrored the breaking of that bracelet.
It was as if a part of her had been ripped away, too.
Instantly, her heart surged with rage.
She wanted to make Rosalind pay for this, to break her in the same way.
But what could she do? Rosalind was already playing her game, and Bella knew it.
“Rosalind Gold!” Bella’s voice was a growl of fury.
Her eyes were bloodshot with anger, and she could hardly control the urge to retaliate.
Rosalind, on the other hand, was calculating.
She had a plan, and Bella knew exactly what it was.
The smug smile on Rosalind’s face only fueled Bella’s desire for vengeance.
“So what if I broke the bracelet, Anna? You and I are alone now.
Who do you think Justin will believe when I tell him you hurt me?”
Rosalind’s words were venomous, and Bella’s eyes narrowed.
She saw exactly what Rosalind was trying to do—set her up, twist the narrative.
But Bella refused to play into it.
She remained still, not giving Rosalind the satisfaction of seeing her flustered.
Rosalind grinned maliciously, bending down to pick up the broken pieces of the bracelet from the sink.
“You think you can get away with humiliating me, don’t you? Well, let’s see how Justin reacts when I show him this.
”
Before Bella could even move, Rosalind lifted one of the sharp shards and pressed it against her wrist.
The action was quick and decisive.
Bella’s eyes widened in horror as she saw Rosalind intentionally cut herself, a deep gash opening on her wrist.
Blood flowed freely, staining the marble sink beneath.
Bella was paralyzed for a moment, the scene playing out before her in slow motion.
The sheer audacity of Rosalind’s actions stunned her.
But then, she knew what would come next.
Rosalind would run out of here, crying and claiming victimhood.
She’d play the innocent, injured party.
And Bella—Bella would be the one left to take the blame.
“Ah!” Rosalind screamed, her voice high-pitched and filled with fake distress.
She stumbled out of the bathroom, clutching her bloody wrist, her cries echoing down the hall.
It was exactly what Bella had predicted.
The act was flawless, and Rosalind was playing it to the hilt.
Bella stood there, still holding the broken pieces of the jade bracelet in her hand, her heart aching.
The pain wasn’t just physical—it was a betrayal, a cruel reminder that Justin and Rosalind would always be locked in this toxic dance.
Bella clenched her jaw, refusing to let Rosalind see her break.
As Bella stepped out of the bathroom, she heard the chaotic noise from the corridor—voices, footsteps.
Rosalind was already gathering an audience, drawing attention to herself like a magnet.
People stopped, phones appeared, and whispers spread through the crowd.
It didn’t take long for them to start avoiding her, treating her as if she were unstable, manic even.
But Rosalind didn’t care.
She was the center of attention now, and that’s all that mattered to her.
She needed to make sure everyone saw her as the victim.
“Justin… Mom… Aunt Shannon… Help me!” Rosalind’s voice cracked with feigned hysteria.
Jean, Shannon, and Bethany rushed toward her.
The sight of Rosalind’s bloodied wrist had the desired effect.
They gasped, their acting seamless, immediately playing their parts.
Jean put on a worried face, her tone laced with concern.
“Rose, darling, what happened to your hand? Who did this to you?”
Jean’s reaction was swift.
She already knew what had happened—Rosalind had gone after Anna.
But Jean couldn’t let this moment slip by without making sure Rosalind was covered.
This was her daughter’s performance, after all, and it needed to be perfect.
Rosalind, for her part, took full advantage of the moment.
She wailed louder, her cries cutting through the air, ensuring everyone around her could hear.
As she saw more phones come out, her eyes glinted with satisfaction.
She was playing the role of the weak victim, the one who had been hurt by the evil woman.
And just then, Bella appeared.
She stepped into the hall, her gaze cold and unflinching.
There was no sign of the soft, vulnerable woman she had been moments ago.
Bella was a vision of composure, her face hard with resolve.
The room seemed to hold its breath as she walked toward the scene.
All eyes were on her now.
Justin was making his way through the crowd with Ryan by his side, and as soon as he laid eyes on Rosalind, he moved to her side.
“Justin…” Rosalind whimpered, her voice dripping with fake tears.
Justin’s face darkened when he saw the injury.
His chest tightened, and his protective instincts flared.
Without a second thought, he reached for her, his arms enveloping her.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.
But Bella could see the hesitation in his eyes—he wasn’t as certain as he wanted to be.
Rosalind, with her dramatic sobbing, clung to him like she was drowning, her hands gripping him tightly as she cried out, “My wrist hurts, Justin.
.
.
am I going to die?”
“Don’t scare yourself, Rosalind,” Justin murmured, trying to calm her.
His eyes flicked to Bella for a moment, and that split second of eye contact spoke volumes.
But he quickly refocused on Rosalind, guiding her away with Ryan’s help.
Bella watched them go, the tension in the air suffocating.
She was caught in the web of lies, of manipulation, and she knew that Rosalind was not done.
She would make sure to drag her name through the mud at every opportunity, all for the sake of keeping Justin’s attention.
As they left, Bella stood there, a storm brewing inside her, knowing the battle wasn’t over.
Rosalind might have won this round, but Bella would not let her manipulate the situation any longer.
The war between them was far from finished.
