Chapter 612

"We've brought Everett as you requested."

Julian strode toward the van with calculated steps. Inside, Everett slumped against the seat, his body a canvas of crimson.

The gaping wound in his abdomen had bled relentlessly. Now, his heart had been pierced as well. The dark fabric of his shirt was saturated, clinging to his skin with the weight of his life seeping away.

Everett's face was ghostly pale, his eyes glazed with pain. When his gaze landed on Julian, his lips barely moved as he whispered, "You...?"

"Indeed, it's me," Julian sneered. "Don't blame me for this. You brought this upon yourself. Look at you—pathetic. You were never worthy of Rosalind. She belongs to me. Only me."

A bitter smile tugged at Everett's bloodied lips. "Rosalind... will never... love you."

Julian's expression darkened. "She only loves you for your face. What if that face were gone? What if you were nothing but a grotesque monster? Do you think she'd still look at you then?"

One of the bodyguards stepped forward, handing Julian a small vial of acid. "Be cautious, sir. This will burn through skin on contact."

Julian uncapped the vial without hesitation. With deliberate cruelty, he tilted it over Everett's face.

The liquid seared into flesh.

Everett's scream tore through the air, raw and agonizing, as his features melted into a ruin of blood and ruined tissue.

Julian watched, satisfaction coiling in his chest.

Back in university, Everett had dared to rival him for the title of campus heartthrob. Now, he had the audacity to steal Rosalind? A nobody like him, thinking he could compete with Julian Blackwood? The thought was laughable.

"Clean your hands, sir," the bodyguard murmured, offering a handkerchief.

Julian took it, wiping his fingers with slow, deliberate strokes. His gaze never left Everett's ruined face. "Just die quietly. Don't worry—Rosalind will forget you soon enough. I'll make sure of it. I'll love her the way you never could."

Everett's bloodshot eyes burned with defiance. He tried to drag himself forward, his body trembling with the effort.

But he was too weak. Too broken.

Julian turned to the bodyguards. "Push the van off the cliff. I want him erased. Understood?"

The men nodded. "Consider it done."

They slammed the doors shut, revved the engine, and sent the van hurtling toward the cliff's edge.

The crash echoed through the ravine as metal met rock below.

Julian tossed the handkerchief aside, watching it flutter to the ground. Finally, Everett Sinclair was gone. Soon, Rosalind would have no choice but to accept him.

Rosalind sat in her room, a book open in her lap, when a sudden, searing pain lanced through her chest.

It felt like a blade carving into her heart. A crushing, inexplicable loss gripped her, as if something vital had been torn away.

Lillian noticed immediately, rushing to her side. "Rosalind! What's wrong?"

Rosalind clutched her chest, breath ragged. "I don't know... It hurts. Like something's... missing."

"Your heart? I'll call a doctor!" Lillian turned to leave.

Rosalind grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "No. Don't."

Lillian froze, staring at her in shock. "Why...?"

Rosalind frowned. "What?"

Lillian's voice softened. "You're crying."

Crying?

Rosalind touched her cheeks. Her fingers came away wet. Tears she hadn't even realized were falling streaked her face, unstoppable.