Chapter 797

Arabella's face transformed in an instant.

Rosalind's piercing gaze swept over her from head to toe.

"Julian left you three years ago, yet you're still obsessed with him. I suppose that's understandable. With his meteoric rise these past few years, what other man could possibly compare? But he's moved on, darling. All this primping tonight - you're hoping to lure him back, aren't you? Those Instagram models swarming around him must have you positively green with envy."

Arabella's expression darkened completely. She hadn't anticipated Rosalind knowing all her secrets.

Rosalind smirked, "I'm not the one starting drama here, so don't test me. Your little games don't interest me. Try to humiliate me, and I'll return the favor tenfold."

Arabella trembled with rage. She'd always despised Rosalind - born into privilege, effortlessly beautiful, and most infuriatingly, the only woman Julian had ever truly loved despite his string of flings these past three years.

Julian still carried a torch for Rosalind.

The bitter jealousy consumed Arabella.

Clenching her manicured nails into her palms, she hissed, "Don't get too arrogant! Julian and I will reconcile."

Rosalind rolled her eyes. "Please. I'm not your relationship counselor. If you two make up, it's no skin off my nose."

Arabella's mouth opened and closed wordlessly. Frustrated by her constant verbal defeats, she stomped her stiletto and stormed away in a cloud of expensive perfume.

Rosalind settled back into the plush booth, tilting her head to slowly sip her cosmopolitan.

The alcohol burned hotter than expected, scorching her throat with its spicy bite. The fire spread through her chest like liquid heartbreak.

As she reached for another drink, Lillian's delicate hand gently intercepted hers.

"Rosalind," Lillian murmured, concern shadowing her features. "Are you thinking about Everett again?"

Rosalind remained silent.

Lillian's expression fell. "Three years since he married that woman and vanished. Three whole years without a single word."

Her voice trembled slightly.

Rosalind shook off the melancholy. "No sad stories tonight, Lil. Come on - let's dance."

She grabbed Lillian's wrist and pulled her toward the pulsating dance floor.

Lillian hesitated, eyes wide. "I don't know how!"

Rosalind flashed a wicked grin. "I'll show you."

With fluid, hypnotic movements, Rosalind began dancing - her body moving with the music like liquid fire, every motion radiating confidence and grace.

Meanwhile, Arabella seethed with barely contained fury, but she hadn't forgotten her true objective tonight - Julian.

Rosalind was right; Julian had become untouchable these past three years. No other man came close.

Devilishly handsome, thrillingly unpredictable, and legendary between the sheets - she simply couldn't let him go.

Rumors said dozens of models had come to celebrate Julian's birthday tonight. Sitting idle wasn't an option - she needed to make her move before someone else did.

Smoothing her scandalously tight dress, Arabella marched toward the roped-off VIP section.

A broad-shouldered bodyguard in all black materialized before her. "Private event. Mr. Blackwood's reserved the entire area."

"I know Julian," Arabella insisted. "We used to date. Let me through."

"Invitation?" the guard demanded.

Arabella faltered. "I don't have one."

The guard shook his head. "Then I can't help you. We've turned away dozens trying to crash Mr. Blackwood's party tonight. You'll need to leave."

Arabella's blood boiled.

Through the glass partition, she spotted Julian lounging on a velvet sofa, swirling a glass of burgundy while watching a parade of lingerie-clad models dance before him.