Chapter 804

Julian's subordinate stuttered anxiously, "S-Sir, we've exhausted all resources. The ride-share company shows no record of this driver. His profile appears completely erased."

Julian couldn't fathom such incompetence in his own city. His voice turned icy. "Pathetic."

The line went dead.

His mind replayed Rosalind's exquisite features—the way her body had moved with such effortless grace across the dance floor. The memory ignited something primal within him. The more elusive she became, the hotter his blood burned.

Rosalind had awakened something dangerous inside him.

Julian scrolled through his contacts and pressed call. After three rings, his mother Beatrice answered.

"Darling?"

"Mother, arrange a dinner with the Whitmores tomorrow. Since our families have an engagement agreement, we should formalize my marriage to Rosalind."

"But the Whitmores seem reluctant—"

"I don't care!" Julian's knuckles whitened around the phone. "I will marry Rosalind. No one else."

As the sole heir to the Blackwood empire, Beatrice could never refuse him. Her tone softened immediately.

"Very well. I'll contact Patricia Whitmore. Our families have decades of friendship—they won't risk a public scandal. We'll settle this properly tomorrow."

Julian ended the call, marginally pacified.

Just then, stiletto heels clicked toward him. The bunny girl from earlier approached, her face marred with scratches—evidence of her brutal catfight with Arabella. Neither woman had emerged victorious, only mutually wounded.

By the time their hair-pulling spectacle ended, Julian had already vanished, chasing after Rosalind's departing cab.

The bunny girl's eyes brightened at spotting him now. Hesitantly, she stepped forward. "Julian...?"

He glanced up with vacant disinterest. "Do I know you?"

Her smile faltered. "I... I danced for you tonight. At your birthday celebration?"

"Ah." His acknowledgment held all the warmth of a December wind.

Hope flickered in her eyes. "You remember?"

"No."

"Could you possibly—"

The Ferrari's engine roared to life, spewing exhaust in her face as Julian peeled away without a backward glance.

All those claw marks for nothing.

Meanwhile, the cab arrived at the Whitmore estate. Rosalind helped Lillian out, studying the girl's pale face.

"Are you alright? That must have been terrifying."

Lillian shook her head bravely. "I'm fine."

Rosalind turned to the driver, suddenly realizing her predicament. "Thank you for tonight. What do I owe you?"

Her hands patted empty pockets. No purse.

The man arched an eyebrow. "Don't tell me I drove you halfway across Metropolia for free."

"I'm good for it! I live here, for heaven's sake." Rosalind bit her lip. "Give me your number—I'll transfer the funds immediately."

After a considering pause, he recited digits. "Don't make me hunt you down."

As the cab began pulling away, Lillian suddenly darted forward, calling out urgently—

"Everett!"