Chapter 603

Julian's grip was ironclad as he dragged Rosalind toward the opulent Silver Pines Hotel.

Rosalind twisted her wrist, her voice sharp. "Release me! I don't care where you're taking me—I won't go!"

Julian's lips curled into a mocking smirk. "What exactly are you afraid of?"

She met his gaze steadily. "I'm not afraid. I trust Everett. When you love someone, you believe in them. I know he wouldn't betray me."

"You're naive," Julian sneered. "He's exploiting your trust. Playing you for a fool while he strings another woman along. He's nothing but a manipulative bastard!"

"Shut your mouth!" Rosalind snapped, her eyes blazing. "Don't you dare insult him! He's mine, and I won't let you disgrace him!"

"Yours?" Julian's gaze darkened as he scrutinized her. "What does that mean? Have you already slept with him?"

Rosalind glared. "That's none of your business!"

She yanked her arm, but Julian's fingers tightened like a vise. His eyes burned with intensity. "Answer me—have you?"

"Yes," she spat. "Happy now?"

Julian's free hand clenched into a fist at his side. "You're not even married! Do you have no self-respect?"

Rosalind let out a bitter laugh. "What century are you living in? Everett is my boyfriend. What's wrong with two people in love being intimate?"

Julian faltered. "You—"

"And who are you to judge? You and Arabella aren't married either, yet you've slept together. If I'm 'self-destructive,' then what does that make you?"

Her words struck like a whip, leaving him speechless.

Yes, he had been with Arabella—and regretted it. But hearing Rosalind confirm her relationship with Everett ignited a fire of jealousy inside him. The urge to erase Everett from existence clawed at his chest.

"Let me go! I'm leaving!" Rosalind struggled again.

Julian ignored her protests, hauling her forward.

"You're hurting me!" she cried.

He pulled her toward the grand ballroom entrance. "Open your eyes and see for yourself—Everett is right there."

Rosalind looked up—and froze.

There, standing tall and striking amidst the glittering crowd, was Everett.

The wedding reception was in full swing, guests mingling with champagne flutes in hand. Everett wore a tailored black suit, his presence commanding as he stood beside Genevieve, who shimmered in an ivory wedding gown.

They were deep in conversation with a group of businessmen, led by Reginald Blackwood.

One of the men clapped Reginald on the shoulder. "Congratulations on your daughter's marriage! You've found an exceptional son-in-law."

"Everett is truly remarkable," another added. "He and Genevieve make a perfect match."

"You're lucky—with his skills, your empire is in good hands."

Genevieve gazed at Everett with adoration, and he returned her look with a tenderness that made Rosalind's stomach twist.

The scene before her shattered something inside her chest.