Chapter 569

Harrison sat at her desk, carefully measuring ingredients for the antidote. Her phone buzzed on the polished wood surface. She tapped the screen to read the message from Rosalind.

[Have you reached The Regal Residences yet?]

The reply came instantly. [Almost there. ETA five minutes.]

Harrison's fingers flew across the keyboard. [Change of plans. Don't worry about bringing the herbs tonight.] A pause. Then Rosalind's confused response: [But you said it was urgent yesterday?]

Leaning back in her chair, Harrison exhaled slowly. Yesterday's urgency had evaporated after the incident with Theodore. Now, time seemed irrelevant.

[Priorities shifted. Tomorrow is fine.]

[Understood.]

At that moment, Rosalind's car pulled into the underground garage of The Regal Residences. She'd rushed over immediately after Harrison's initial call, nearly speeding through three yellow lights.

Tucking her phone into her designer handbag, she stepped out of the car.

HONK!

A cherry-red Porsche 911 screeched past, its windows tinted black. The passenger window lowered to reveal two smirking faces - Julian Blackwood and Arabella.

Julian rested his arm casually on the steering wheel. "Fancy seeing you here, Rosalind."

Before she could answer, Arabella draped herself over Julian's shoulder, batting her eyelashes. "We've been driving along the coast all afternoon. Julian knows all the best spots."

Rosalind suppressed an eye roll. Was this pathetic display really necessary? Their breakup was ancient history, yet Arabella still acted like they were in some ridiculous love triangle.

A slow, knowing smile curved Rosalind's lips. "Julian, we haven't been together for years. Next time, do us both a favor and drive right past me."

Julian's grip tightened on the wheel. "You little—"

Turning to Arabella, Rosalind delivered the knockout punch. "And sweetheart? Nobody wants your leftovers. I'm happily taken now."

Without waiting for their reactions, she strode toward the elevators, her stilettos clicking decisively on the concrete.

Arabella's shriek echoed through the garage. "Did you hear how she talked to me?"

But Julian wasn't listening. His gaze followed Rosalind's retreating figure. This new version of her fascinated him - the birthmark gone, her confidence radiating like sunlight. When had his ex-fiancée become this magnetic?

"Who do you think she's dating?" Arabella sneered. "Probably that Everett Sinclair."

Julian's jaw clenched. The mere mention of Everett's name made his blood boil. That arrogant bastard with his perpetual smirk and designer suits.

"Shut up about Sinclair," he growled.

Arabella pouted, then slithered closer, tracing circles on his chest. "Forget about her. We have better things to do tonight." Her suggestive whisper carried promises. "Our usual suite at The Celestial?"

Julian's body responded automatically. Their chemistry was undeniable - two beautiful people who fit together perfectly between silk sheets. He knew exactly how to make Arabella scream his name.

But as he started the engine, his eyes flicked once more to where Rosalind had disappeared.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, a traitorous thought whispered: She's happier without you.