The Substitute Bride Is Reborn and Loves Her Husband No more - Chapter 109

Chapter 109: Shameless men
Jennifer threw a glass at the maid, and her action caused the maid to fall to the ground. Jennifer glared at the maid, looking at her with bitterness in her eyes, as if it was the maid who had offended her.

“Rose, I am going to get you out there, you bitch. You’re still alive, my dear sister,” Jennifer said, looking at the maid with hatred.

The next step, Jennifer got off and came walking towards the maid. The maid on the floor trembled, looking at Jennifer as if she had seen a monster.

“Please, Miss Jennifer, don’t do anything to me,” the maid said shakily, her shoulders and knees trembling.

Before the maid could finish her words, Jennifer caught her hair, causing a yelp to escape from the maid’s lips.

“You think you can get everything you want? You think you can always have everything you want? I’m not going to let you succeed,” Jennifer said, her voice filled with anger and resentment.

“Why are you still alive? Why didn’t you die in the bomb blast? How many times must you be alive to always show me that I’m not perfect, to always belittle me for what I am?”

The maid didn’t know how she got into this situation. She had only wanted to bring meals for Miss Jennifer. That was when Jennifer just started looking at her with hatred, as if she could see someone else’s face on her own face. And that was her. She just attacked her. The maid was deeply hurt by Jennifer’s action. And she was just a lowly maid, a human, working in the mansion. So she could not do anything to protest what Jennifer was doing to her.

“You are still there, looking at me? Get up from the floor. You get up.”

Jennifer dragged the maid up, forcing her to get up to her legs. The pain coming from her scarf made the tears stream down more from the maid’s eyes.

“Please, Miss Jennifer, spare me. What have I done to you? I don’t know what I have done to you.” The maid trembled as she begged Jennifer.

Jennifer’s lips curled up into a smirk, looking at the maid.

“Yes, you should beg me. That is the place where you belong. You should be like that. That is where you belong. You don’t deserve anything but to be under my toes, to crawl and beg for me. Rose, you must suffer. In this life, you shall never have peace. You shall never.

And dear Rolan, you are going to her. You are going to her,” Jennifer said, looking at the wall, her eyes blazing with anger.

All the names that she called were the names of the people she had marked on her mind—the people she was going after. Rolan was hers. He was always hers. Anything perfect in life that was going to give Rose a happy ending—Jennifer didn’t want it. Rose would never be happy.

“Dear sister, you are paralyzed now. Hope you are enjoying your days of being paralyzed.”

…

“Let me help you,” Rolan said, bringing out his hand to Rose.

Rose looked at him with a frightened expression.

This crazy bastard. You should get out of here.

She just wanted to take a bath. But because she was in a wheelchair, Rolan decided that he was going to help her take a bath.

“You should leave me alone. I don’t want you to help me. Get out of here. Now,” Rose yelled, hoping that Rolan was going to get out of there and leave her alone.

But instead, Rolan looked at her with a blank expression and said seriously, “I am going to help you. You can’t help yourself. Come on, let me help you.”

Rose rolled her wheelchair, causing it to shift and slam into the wall.

“I’m going to help myself. If I can’t, Zara will. My hands aren’t crippled—it’s my leg. It’s my leg that’s messed up.”

At the end of her words… at the very end… her voice softened.

“What are you scared of? Come, let me help you,” Rolan said, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder. Rose was forced to look at him again, her eyes snapping open in shock.

“Rolan…” she muttered, unable to finish. Her teeth were clenched so tight, the sound of it grinding could be heard.

“Yes, dear, I’m here,” Rolan replied with a low smirk on his lips, staring straight at her. He was clearly enjoying the moment.

“Zara went to the market to buy ingredients for meal. Let me help you take a bath,” he said, this time tapping her cheek like she was a little kid.

Rose rolled her eyes and stayed quiet. She was done trying to argue. She already knew Rolan was a shameless bastard—his shamelessness had no limits. She stayed still and silent, like a doll.

With no way to stop him, she let him start pushing her toward the bedroom. That’s when footsteps echoed from down the hall. Rolan turned toward the sound. Damien was there, watching with a glint in his eyes. Rose didn’t catch it, but Rolan did. He shifted, and a slow smirk crept onto his face.

“What’s going on here?” Damien asked, his voice deep and smooth, the kind that turned heads.

“I’m doing the obvious. Helping Rose take a bath,” Rolan said, lifting his chin slightly as he looked Damien in the eye.

Damien’s gaze darkened with something unclear. He looked at Rose, like he wanted to see if Rolan was telling the truth.

“Rose, is what he’s saying the truth?” Damien finally asked, voicing his thoughts out loud.

Rose didn’t answer right away. She just stared at her thighs, avoiding his eyes. The whole situation felt awkward. She wanted to respond, but how could she?

Of course, she wanted to bathe—she needed it. But she wasn’t fully capable of doing it alone. She needed help. Still, how was she supposed to say that out loud?

She couldn’t let Rolan help her. Not him. And she wasn’t shameless enough to ask Damien either—not someone who was technically her mate, yet still a stranger. They barely knew each other. Even so, she thought Damien was a kind person.

“It’s just Rolan being shameless,” Rose finally said, glancing away like the whole thing bored her. “You should leave him be and not bother about him.”

Damien smirked after hearing her words.

“Okay. I see. I understand,” he said, stepping closer to her. He reached out and took her hand gently, then spoke again.

“I get what’s going on here. Please… let me be the one to help you take a bath, Rose.”

This time, Rose turned red—from her cheeks down to her neck. She was completely shocked. She couldn’t believe what she just heard. Her eyes shot up to meet his face, just to confirm it was really Damien standing there, not Rolan playing one of his tricks.

She sighed in her heart. Why weren’t these men normal?

They all had something weird going on in their heads.

Or maybe… was she the one being weird?

After all, Damien did just want to help… right? She believed so. She hoped so.

“No! I’m fine. I’m okay. I can manage—I can help myself,” Rose blurted, panicking. She raised her hand high, trying to reject him.

But Damien didn’t let go of her hand. He just… held it.

“I know. Don’t try to act kind. Don’t try to be strong,” Damien said, his voice calm and deep, almost like an old guru giving life advice. “In some situations, when you’re helpless, you just can’t help yourself. It’s okay to let someone else step in.”

He sounded so serious, so collected. Rose stared at him in awe. How could he say something like that—like a proper gentleman—when the topic was literally about bathing her?

But before she could even finish processing that thought, Rolan stepped up beside her. He walked right in like he owned the place and nudged Damien to the side.

“Rose, don’t listen to anything he’s saying,” Rolan said, flashing a cocky smile. “Let me be the one to help you with your bath.”

He reached out to grab Rose’s hand—but his fingers brushed against Damien’s, who still hadn’t let go of her. Rolan scowled.

“What the hell?” he muttered, brushing Damien’s hand aside so he could hold onto Rose himself.

“Mr. Damien, I’ve got this. I’ll help Rose take her bath. You’re not needed here,” Rolan added smugly. “Rose is more familiar with me than she is with you.”

Damien didn’t flinch. He just folded his arms and looked at Rolan with quiet defiance.

“I’m familiar with Rose too,” Damien replied. “I can help her just fine. You’re the one not needed here.”

That got under Rolan’s skin. He was fuming. He thought Damien would be easy to shove aside—but clearly, he wasn’t.

“Rose needs my help more than yours,” Rolan said, voice sharper now. “Right now, she’s more comfortable with me. So I should be the one to help her. Your job can be to wait outside while I take care of Rose. Is that okay with you?”

He gave a smug, gentleman-like smile—fake and polished—as if he’d just politely kicked Damien out.

“I’m sorry to say, but in this situation, you’re not the one who gets to decide,” Damien said calmly. “How about you let Rose decide for herself?”

As the two men spoke, their eyes turned to Rose, silently seeking her permission, her opinion on the matter. Rose stared at them blankly, confusion and frustration bubbling up inside her. What is going on here?

These men were treating her like property, not a person. They had just spoken about her as if she wasn’t even there, making decisions for her without a second thought. Rose clenched her fists, hidden from their view, and raised her head high. She spoke through gritted teeth:

“Both of you, get out of here. I don’t need any of your assistance. You’re just making me uncomfortable.”

At her words, the two men exchanged disappointed glances. They didn’t argue, but they were clearly frustrated. Without a word, they walked out of the room. Once they were gone, Rose hissed to herself:

“What’s the meaning of all this?”

All of a sudden, they both wanted to help her as if she were just like any other man. They’d forgotten she was a woman entirely.

After that flash of anger, Rose took a deep breath and opened the door to the shower. But once inside, she found herself in another difficult situation.

Why the hell had she pursued them?

But then, she didn’t regret it that much. To avoid embarrassing herself, Rose sat down in the bedroom, took her phone, and dialed Zara’s number.

“Zara, when are you coming back from the market? I need you to help me take a bath,” she said.

“F*ck, bestie, I’m coming,” Zara replied.