Chapter 826

Rosalind's fingers trembled slightly as she recalled how different things had been three years ago. Back then, Reginald had adored her. In fact, everyone close to Everett had treated her with warmth.

But now? The hostility radiating from Reginald was palpable. And then there was Genevieve—a woman Rosalind had never met before, yet who clearly held a significant place in Lucian's life.

Genevieve's attentive gestures spoke volumes. She knew exactly how Lucian liked his coffee, when he needed his documents organized, even the way he preferred his ties knotted.

Rosalind curled her hands into fists, nails biting into her palms. Words failed her.

Reginald shot Lucian an impatient look. "We're starving. The fondue ingredients are ready—Genevieve prepared everything. We've been waiting for you."

Genevieve turned to Rosalind with polite detachment. "Would you care to join us, Ms. Fairchild?"

Before Rosalind could respond, Reginald cut in sharply. "She's busy. Let's go, Lucian."

He tugged at Lucian's sleeve.

Lucian hesitated, his gaze lingering on Rosalind. "Let me take you home first."

Rosalind forced a smile. The message was clear—she wasn't welcome. "Don't worry about me. My driver's waiting. You should go."

Reginald scoffed. "See? She's fine. Let's go already."

With a final nod, Lucian let himself be pulled away. "I'll see you soon."

Rosalind's lips curved in a brittle imitation of a smile. "Of course."

She stood frozen as the sleek black car swallowed them whole, tires whispering against the pavement before vanishing around the corner.

The distance between them wasn't just physical. Three years had carved a canyon she didn't know how to cross.

She knew nothing about what had happened to Everett during that time—nothing about the scars marring his face, nothing about the wife he'd married three years ago, nothing about Genevieve's role in his life.

She had imagined their reunion a thousand times. Explanations. Apologies. Reconciliation.

Instead—silence.

A familiar voice sliced through her thoughts. "He's gone. Why are you still staring?"

Rosalind turned to face Julian Blackwood.

Of course. He just couldn't resist twisting the knife.

She lifted her chin. "Mr. Blackwood already agreed to maintain the partnership with Whitmore Holdings. Your little scheme failed."

Julian's lips curled into a smirk. "You think you've got Lucian wrapped around your finger? That woman—Genevieve? She's been his girlfriend for three years."

Rosalind's breath hitched.

Girlfriend.

Julian stepped closer, savoring her reaction. "They're inseparable. While you were pining, he moved on."

The words landed like a physical blow.

All this time, she'd believed Everett was waiting, just as she had. That their love had been suspended in time.

But he'd had someone else. First his wife. Now Genevieve.

She was the only one who'd stayed frozen in place.

Rosalind's vision blurred. A hot, suffocating pressure built behind her ribs.

Julian studied her with cold amusement. "Does it hurt that much?"

She met his gaze, voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "You already had Lucian investigated. You know exactly who he is."

Julian's jaw tightened.

Oh, he knew. His men had dug through every layer of Lucian Graves' identity until they hit bedrock—the truth that Lucian was Everett Sinclair.

That bastard had survived everything. The acid attack. The car plummeting off the cliff.

And now he'd returned, reborn as Lucian Graves.