Forged My Marriage, Stole My Baby—Now I’m the Judge You Kneel To - Chapter 35: Chapter 35

The funeral doors were gently pushed open.
Thorne stood in the doorway, backlit, his expression impossible to read.
When he saw the scene inside, his pupils contracted in shock.
Rowena was slowly walking toward him, her forehead a bloody mess, bandages around her knees completely soaked through with blood, exposed skin covered in purple bruises.
Her breathing was so shallow you could barely tell she was alive.
"Rowena..."
Thorne dropped to his knees beside her instantly, his fingers shaking as he checked her pulse.
Feeling that weak heartbeat, he immediately stripped off his suit jacket and wrapped her up, carefully lifting her into his arms.
"It's okay," he whispered in her ear, his voice rough. "I'm getting you out of here."
"Clean this up," he told his people waiting in the shadows. "No traces."
Rowena woke up in agony.
Her sense of smell came back first.
Disinfectant mixed with faint lavender. Then touch.
She was lying on a mattress soft as a cloud, but her body was wrapped in bandages, and even the slightest movement made her gasp.
"Don't move."
A gentle male voice came from beside her.
Rowena turned her head with difficulty and saw Thorne slumped in a chair by the bed, dark circles under his eyes showing he hadn't slept in days. When he saw she was awake, he immediately sat up and felt her forehead.
"How are you feeling?"
Rowena shook her head and tried to speak, but her throat felt like it had been torched.
"We're on a private island," Thorne poured her some warm water and helped her sit up. "Already out of Boston."
The water soothed her cracked lips, and Rowena realized how shot her voice was"Shane..."
"Be relax, he can't find you here." Thorne's eyes were steady. "All the Vellmore security footage has been wiped, and we've handled your identity records in Boston. Nobody knows where you are."
So he'd planned everything out.
Exhaustion hit her like a wave. Rowena closed her eyes and quickly fell back asleep.
Her dreams were all over the place.
She dreamed about that business school mixer five years ago—probably the first time she'd met Thorne.
She'd just gotten engaged to Shane and was walking on air. At the party, she'd accidentally spilled red wine on some guy's suit.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" She frantically pulled out her handkerchief.
But he just smiled"No worries, Miss Sinclair."
He took the handkerchief but didn't use it to wipe the stain. Instead, he folded it neatly and put it in his pocket.
"Thorne Lincoln," he introduced himself. "Hope next time we meet, you'll remember me."
The dream ended with Thorne standing alone in the rain.
When she woke up again, it was getting dark outside.
Rowena tried moving her fingers and realized someone was holding her hand.
Thorne was dozing in his chair, his brow furrowed like he wasn't sleeping well. His hand was big and warm, completely covering her cold fingers.
Rowena gently pulled her hand away, but he woke up immediately.
"Nightmare?" His voice was still thick with sleep.
Rowena shook her head, looking at her bandaged arms. "I..."
Thorne took her hand again and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Don't worry. Everything's gonna be okay."
Something about this felt familiar to Rowena.