Chapter 860

Rosalind's stormy gray eyes shimmered with unshed tears. "You could have just been honest with me."

Lucian studied her delicate features, the way moonlight traced the curve of her cheekbone.

"Back then, you were a radiant socialite with the world at your feet," he murmured. "And I? A man with nothing but debts and danger trailing behind me. You deserved better than being dragged into my mess."

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck, her breath warm against his skin. "You absolute fool."

His arms tightened around her. "Doesn't matter now."

Rosalind pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. "Then explain your scars. And if that marriage was a sham—why did you vanish for three years?"

At the mention of his scars, Lucian's expression darkened. "You truly don't remember what happened?"

She stiffened. "What are you talking about? I have no idea—"

Before she could finish, her phone buzzed on the seat beside them. Julian's name flashed across the screen.

Lucian's jaw clenched. "Julian's calling you."

Rosalind hesitated, then answered. Julian's voice crackled through the line, sharp with impatience.

"Where the hell are you? I need to see you—now!"

She frowned. "It's the middle of the night. What could possibly—mmph!"

Lucian crushed his lips against hers, swallowing her words.

Rosalind gasped, her fingers curling into his shirt as the world tilted. In one smooth motion, he lowered her onto the leather seat, caging her beneath him.

She shoved weakly at his chest. "Stop—I'm on the phone—"

He smirked, trailing kisses down her throat. "Then talk."

His mouth found hers again, rougher this time, demanding. She whimpered, the phone slipping from her grasp.

"Lucian—you're hurting me—"

He nipped at her earlobe, voice a dark whisper. "Good."

A shiver raced down her spine. She had always been his—from the very beginning.

On the other end, Julian's voice turned razor-sharp. "Rosalind? Who's there with you? Answer me!"

Irritation flared. "Since when do I owe you explanations?"

"You're with him, aren't you?" Julian snarled. "What the hell are you doing right now?"

"I—"

Lucian snatched the phone from her hand. His voice dropped to a dangerous timbre. "Julian."

A beat of silence. Then—"Lucian Graves. So she is with you."

"Whatever you want," Lucian said coolly, "it can wait."

He ended the call and tossed the phone aside. When his gaze returned to Rosalind, it burned with possession. "Are you done with him?"

She blinked. Done? There had never been anything to begin with.

Lucian cupped her face, his thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. "You let me have you. Did you think I'd let you walk away now?"

Her breath hitched. "What are you saying?"

A slow, predatory smile curved his mouth. "You're mine, Rosalind. So—be my girlfriend."