Shattered Rose He Held On Tight novel Chapter 43

Chapter 43 Lost and Found

The Lancasters‘ daughters were nothing but trouble. Sylvia didn’t want her son getting dragged

into their mess.

At most, he could marry whichever one came out on top.

Seeing him sulking, she finally gave in a little. “Fine. Just wait until the timing is right. Then you can show up as the one who comforts her.”

By the time Jasper finally left the house, two hours had passed. He called Clarence to check where Claudia was.

“What?” Jasper shot up from his seat, his voice heavy with anger. “So in the middle of this storm, you left her alone at the cemetery?”

Clarence sounded tired. “That’s because she slapped Lydia right in front of Aunt Zoey’s grave.”

But Jasper wasn’t listening. “You know how hard it is to get a cab out there? She’s alone–aren’t you worried? Just recently she was harassed by some thug!”

That made Clarence flinch with regret. He glanced at Lydia’s bedroom door, then rubbed his temples.

“Fine. I’ll send you the location. Go pick her up—she should still be there. She may have caught a chill. Have your maid take care of her for a few days. I’ll cover the cost. She won’t accept help if it comes from us.”

“Don’t bother. I’ll handle it.”

Jasper hung up and sped toward the cemetery.

He cursed himself for wasting those two hours.

Because of the storm, the roads were almost empty. The closer he got, the lonelier it felt.

It took him over an hour to reach the place. As soon as he stepped out, he saw a tall man carrying a woman down the mountain path.

She wore a black dress, her face buried against his chest. Her body was covered in his suit jacket. Only her pale legs showed beneath the hem.

The rain blurred everything, and Jasper couldn’t make out the man’s face. Still, there was something familiar about him. When he watched them get into a black Rolls–Royce, the truth

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struck him like a blow.

Jasper didn’t waste his time wondering why anyone else had chosen today to visit the cemetery. He snapped back to focus, lifted his umbrella, and rushed up the hill.

But the hill was empty. Only a bundle of lilies lay there, soaked through by the rain.

He stood in the storm, lost and hollow, with a sharp ache in his chest.

It felt like he and Claudia were always missing each other.

Inside the car, the driver quietly raised the partition as soon as the engine started.

In the wide back seat, Sterling still hadn’t let Claudia go. He held her drenched and trembling body close, letting her sit in his lap.

Her voice was tired and moody. “I’m getting your car all wet.”

Sterling wiped the rain from her face with a towel. “Mmm. Then your punishment is to be my driver next time.”

“I thought you were out of the country,” she murmured.

Ingrid had told her that Sterling wouldn’t be back for another two weeks.

“I was,” he said. “But I remembered today was important, so I came back early.”

“What day is it?” She leaned into his chest, asking without much interest.

“The future Mrs. Romero’s birthday.”

He had seen it in her file, the date marked with both birth and sorrow. That was why he canceled major meetings and flew home early, afraid she’d been bullied again.

Sterling had gone straight to the cemetery the moment his plane landed, following the location Clint gave him–yet even then, he’d been late.

The image of her standing there in the rain, looking like a drenched stray kitten, still burned in his mind. His eyes darkened with anger at the thought.

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