Chapter 583

Rosalind couldn't stand waiting any longer for Everett. She clenched her fists, determination flashing in her eyes.

If Everett wouldn't come to her, she would hunt him down herself.

The casino lights blinded her as she stormed inside, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor. She cornered a dealer near the roulette table. "Is Everett Sinclair here?"

The man smirked, twirling a chip between his fingers. "Another gorgeous woman asking for Everett? Sorry, darling. He's not working tonight."

Her nails dug into her palms. "Where is he?"

Leaning closer, the dealer dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Out at The Velvet Lounge with the boss's daughter. Having a real good time, if you know what I mean."

The boss's daughter?

Genevieve Blackwood—the woman with curves that could stop traffic and a smile that melted men? Everett was with her right now?

The dealer chuckled at Rosalind's stunned expression. "Got a crush on Sinclair? Don't waste your time, sweetheart. He's taken."

Her breath hitched. "What?"

"Oh yeah. Everett and Ms. Blackwood are official. Whole casino knows."

The words hit like a slap. Everett was dating Genevieve?

That explained why he'd vanished from her life. He'd moved on—without a single word to her.

What had she been to him? Just another distraction?

Without another thought, Rosalind bolted for the exit. She had to see this for herself.

The Velvet Lounge pulsed with bass-heavy music, but the VIP section was eerily quiet—privatized for the night. And there he was.

Everett.

Dressed in a crisp white button-down that clung to his sculpted torso, sleeves rolled to reveal corded forearms. His usual dark wardrobe made the shift to white startling—like moonlight cutting through shadows. That sharp undercut, that lazy confidence as he lounged across the velvet couch.

Even in a room full of people, he was magnetic.

Genevieve perched beside him, her manicured fingers tracing circles on his thigh. A ring of their inner circle laughed over champagne flutes.

"Here, boss. Smoke?" Someone offered Everett a cigarette.

Genevieve swatted it away with a giggle. "No smoking for him."

"Why not?"

She bit her lip, casting Everett a coy glance. "We're getting married soon. And after that..." She trailed off, pressing a hand to her flat stomach. "We'll be trying for a baby. He needs to stay healthy."

The group erupted in cheers.

"Marriage? Damn, congrats!"

"First round's on me! To the future Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair!"

Everett's arm curled around Genevieve's waist, pulling her flush against him. The way his fingers splayed possessively over her hip made Rosalind's stomach twist.

She'd never seen him touch anyone like that. With her, he'd always been restrained. Distant.

Now he looked at Genevieve like she hung the stars.

"Since no smoking," a voice called, "how about a drink? A ceremonial toast for the engaged couple!"

Glasses were thrust into their hands. Genevieve hooked her arm through Everett's, her gaze locked on his as she purred, "After this, I'm yours forever, Everett."

Someone wolf-whistled. "Ms. Blackwood, you're not even married yet!"

She tossed her hair. "I don't care. After tonight, I belong to him."

Everett's lips curved—a rare, genuine smile. "Yeah," he murmured, voice rough. "You do."

Rosalind's knees buckled.

The attendant hadn't lied.

Everett wasn't hers.

He'd never been.