Chapter 825

What?

Rosalind froze, utterly stunned.

Lucian had come to play golf... for her?

At this critical moment when Whitmore Holdings teetered on the edge of collapse, its funds dangerously depleted, he stood firmly by her side.

Her heart swelled with overwhelming gratitude. Those luminous eyes shimmered as they met his. "Thank you."

She meant every syllable.

Lucian's lips curved into that faint, knowing smile she'd grown to recognize. "Don't mention it."

The evening concluded with warmth lingering in the air. After Reginald's departure, Rosalind found herself walking alongside Lucian beneath the restaurant's golden awning.

She turned to him, the city lights reflecting in her gaze. "I can't possibly express how much this means. Without your intervention, Mr. Blackwood would have severed ties with Whitmore Holdings completely."

Lucian shook his head, the movement almost imperceptible. "The pleasure was mine. Consider it repayment for everything you've done for Lillian these past years."

At the mention of his sister, Rosalind's entire demeanor brightened. "You should see her now—absolutely brilliant these past three years. Truthfully, I barely guided her. She achieved everything through sheer determination. Just got accepted into a prestigious research program—only comes home fortnightly now. When she returns, we must arrange a reunion."

Lucian observed the genuine pride radiating from Rosalind. He knew better than anyone that without the Whitmore family's protection, even Lillian's brilliance could have been extinguished long ago. They'd been her unshakable fortress.

Rosalind's smile turned playful. "I've compiled years of Lillian's photos—wait until you see how she's blossomed—"

Mid-sentence, strong arms enveloped her.

She stiffened in surprise.

Lucian held her firmly, his voice a velvet murmur against her ear. "Rosalind... thank you."

A smirk tugged at her lips. "That didn't sound particularly heartfelt."

He loosened his grip just enough to cradle her face. Then his lips claimed hers in a kiss that sent tremors down her spine.

That same liquid weakness from their hotel encounter flooded her senses. Her fingers tangled in his hair for balance as her knees threatened to buckle.

When they parted, Lucian's darkened gaze held hers. "Must you return tonight?"

Dazed, Rosalind barely registered the question. "What?"

His thumb traced her swollen lower lip. "If your parents wouldn't object... come home with me."

The implication ignited her cheeks. "Y-Your place? Why would I—" She cut herself off, mortified.

Lucian's chuckle vibrated against her skin. "What do you imagine?"

Before she could formulate a response, an approaching voice interrupted. "Lucian."

Rosalind sprang back as if scalded. Turning, she recognized Reginald—Lucian's longtime friend—accompanied by a striking woman she'd never seen before.

Genevieve.

The name clicked into place. The refined doctor who'd been overseeing Lucian's care.

Reginald's gaze flickered between them with barely concealed amusement. "Ms. Fairchild? What a... pleasant surprise."

Rosalind smoothed her dress with practiced composure. "Reginald. It's been too long."

His grin turned razor-sharp. "Well, you are the Whitmore heiress. People like us rarely merit your attention."

The ice in his tone crystallized the air between them. Rosalind's smile faltered as the unspoken hostility settled over the group like frost.