Chapter 298

Everett was unlike any man Rosalind had ever known.

Nathaniel, her father, Julian... None of them could cook, having always relied on servants. But Everett? The savory aroma filling the cramped apartment proved his culinary skills were exceptional.

Soon, the rich scent of braised short ribs permeated the air. Rosalind smiled to herself—just like Lillian, she adored this dish. It had always been her comfort food.

Moments later, Everett emerged with a steaming plate of glazed ribs, their caramelized surface glistening. Beside them sat a simple stir-fry of seasonal greens. Rosalind hadn't been hungry earlier, but now her stomach growled audibly.

As she reached for a chair, a voice like shattering ice cut through the warmth. "Why are you still here?"

Rosalind froze.

Her wide, doe-like eyes snapped up to meet Everett's. He'd materialized beside her, his buzz-cut silhouette sharp against the dim light. His gaze was impenetrable.

Heat flooded her cheeks. "Mrs. Sinclair, Lillian—my father just called. I should go."

Margaret and Lillian exchanged glances but didn't protest. "Come visit again soon, dear."

Rosalind rose gracefully. "I will. Goodbye."

Outside, she navigated the rain-slicked alleyway, lifting her skirt to avoid muddy puddles. The narrow path seemed darker than before.

A hulking figure lurched into view, reeking of cheap whiskey.

"Well, well," the man slurred, bloodshot eyes raking over her. "A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be out alone."

Rosalind's pulse spiked. After last night's encounter with the Stormborn Devil, this drunken predator felt like cruel irony. She spun on her heel and fled.

"Hey!" The drunk gave chase, his laughter turning vicious. "You'll regret running from me!"

"Help! Someone—ah!"

She collided with something solid—a chest like a brick wall.

Looking up, she found Everett's angular jawline inches from her face. His sudden appearance felt like divine intervention.

"Everett!" she gasped.

The drunk skidded to a halt. "Oh. Sinclair."

They were clearly acquainted—neighbors, perhaps.

Everett's expression remained unreadable as his arm snaked around Rosalind's shoulders, pulling her flush against him.

Rosalind stiffened.

Despite her engagement to Julian, she'd never been this close to a man. Everett's muscular frame radiated heat through her thin dress. Her heartbeat became erratic.

The drunk leered. "This your girl?"

Girl?

Rosalind's lips parted in shock as she glanced at Everett.

He didn't meet her eyes. "Yeah."

The confirmation stunned her. She studied his profile—all sharp edges and unyielding lines.

The drunk barked a laugh. "Didn't think you had it in you, college boy."

Everett's glare could've frozen lava.

"Right. I'll... be going then." The man retreated hastily, muttering under his breath, "Bastard son of a drug dealer. Who does he think he is?"