Chapter 879

Tonight, Lucian was utterly irresistible.

This enchanted evening felt too perfect to end.

Before parting ways, Rosalind thought they'd created a memory beautiful enough to last a lifetime.

Lucian was euphoric. Rosalind would never know that making her his wife had been his deepest desire all along. He ached to claim her as his own forever.

Lucian cradled Rosalind's delicate hands in his. "Let's do it again."

Rosalind blinked in astonishment.

She was completely spent, yet he wanted another round? Where did he find such boundless energy?

"Save some for next time," she murmured, tracing circles on his chest. "I'm not going anywhere."

A wicked grin curved Lucian's lips. "Oh, there will be a next time. But tonight, I need you."

He drew the silk sheets over them both. Within moments, the room echoed with Rosalind's breathless whimpers and wanton moans that would make a saint blush.

Dawn found Rosalind nestled against Lucian's bare chest.

He slept deeply, his breathing even.

She studied his tranquil features, fingertips ghosting over his masked face. Sometime in the night, he'd replaced the disguise.

Her touch traced his angular jaw, memorizing every contour. She prayed next time they met, he could reveal his true self.

Genevieve claimed the one who loved deeper would lose. But Rosalind knew the truth - in this game of hearts, Genevieve never stood a chance.

Rosalind could never willingly release Lucian, yet leave she must.

One final kiss, her eyes shimmering with unspoken longing, before she slipped from his embrace.

She dressed in silence, packing only essentials.

The farewell note proved harder than expected. Words failed her until she settled on a single line. The pen clattered onto the nightstand as she shouldered her bag.

At the doorway, she paused, pressing a featherlight kiss to Lucian's brow. "Goodbye, my love."

Then she was gone.

Lucian awoke to sunlight streaming through the curtains. Last night's exertions had left him dead to the world.

He'd arranged their private jet for today. Still drowsy, he reached across the bed. "Rosalind?"

His arm met cold sheets.

Adrenaline shot through him. His eyes flew open.

The room stood empty.

"Rosalind!" He bolted upright, scanning the space.

Nothing.

He tore through the suite, flinging open bathroom doors. "Where are you?"

Only silence answered.

Fumbling for his phone, he dialed her number.

Ring after unanswered ring. Then the robotic voice: "The number you have dialed is unavailable—"

Dressing hastily, he spotted the note on his pillow.

His hands shook as he unfolded it. One sentence.

For a heartbeat, he thought his eyes deceived him.