Chapter 47. Savage Glory

Rose's usually composed demeanor cracks under the strain of the mounting pressure, her anger simmering just beneath the surface as she watches helplessly as all she has worked so hard to build crumbles around her.

She stands beside a helicopter on the roof of the Croft Skyscraper, staring into the horizon, the blue sea just beyond Grosthe. She takes a deep breath at the moment, as whiffs of cold air sweep by, brushing against her face and dancing with her flail hair.

Clad in white baggy pants and a flowery chiffon top, a white scarf is tied around her neck, matching the color of her slides. Her mind drifts away, the thought of Richard consuming her. He was the love of her life who never truly loved her, yet gave her the world, his world, even when she did not deserve it.

Perhaps he was right about one thing. She can never be Maureen. She isn't loved by people, nor does she possess a charm that melts hearts and attracts positive things. Now all the bad thi