Chapter 809

Julian let out a dark chuckle. "Of course. I'll be expecting you. The Celestial, Penthouse Suite. Don't make the mistake of going to the wrong floor." Rosalind hung up without another word.

He was already lounging in the opulent penthouse of The Celestial, having arrived hours before her call. He'd known she would come.

As the sole heiress of the Whitmore dynasty, Rosalind had been coddled and adored since birth. Every whim catered to, every desire fulfilled. Sheltered like a rare orchid, yet fiercely devoted—she would never abandon her family or Whitmore Holdings.

No one lives just for themselves in this world. We all have our burdens to bear.

Julian poured himself a glass of burgundy, swirling the rich liquid absently. He wasn't drinking it—just watching the crimson waves lap against crystal.

Then—a chime. The doorbell.

She was here. Rosalind.

His lips curved. Faster than he'd anticipated.

Draining the glass in one smooth motion, he rose and crossed to the door.

When it swung open, Rosalind stood framed in the doorway, her sapphire eyes blazing with fury.

Julian smirked. "You're earlier than I expected."

"Move," she hissed through clenched teeth.

Amused, he stepped aside. She strode past him without hesitation.

With an entertained quirk of his brow, he shut the door behind her.

Rosalind whirled to face him, her glare scorching.

"So eager to enter my domain?" Julian's grin turned wolfish. "Aren't you worried about what might happen? Just the two of us here... things could get dangerous."

Her voice didn't waver. "I came knowing the risks. Now tell me—did you sabotage Whitmore Holdings?"

God, he loved her directness. No games, no pretenses. Straight to the heart of the matter.

Closing the distance between them, he nodded. "Yes. That worker belongs to me."

Silence.

Julian continued, "I know about your multinational deal. It'll tie up all your liquid assets—critical timing. One misstep and everything collapses."

He took another step closer. "So I paid a laborer handsomely to take a fall. Had him break his leg, stir up trouble, tarnish your reputation. Made sure your partners got cold feet. Even your father's accident today—that was me."

Every confession matched her suspicions exactly.

No surprise—only white-hot rage. "Our families go back generations! My father practically raised you! How could you do this? Have you no conscience?"

Julian closed the final distance between them, stopping just inches away. "I never wanted to hurt your family. You gave me no choice."

"How did I leave you no choice?"

"Three years," he growled. "Three years of you ignoring me, acting like I didn't exist. You knew I wanted to marry you, yet you refused every overture. So I found another way to make you say yes."

CRACK!

Rosalind's palm connected sharply with his cheek.