Chapter 880

How could this be happening?

Just last night, she had tearfully accepted his proposal beneath the starlit sky. They had planned their wedding, their future, their forever.

And now?

She was ending it all with a single text.

Why?

Lucian Graves didn’t bother with formalities. He threw on his coat and stormed downstairs. The innkeeper, wiping down the counter, glanced up with a knowing smile. "Ah, Mr. Graves! Your fiancée left earlier—said she had an urgent flight back to Metropolia."

His jaw tightened. "Which airport?"

"The international one, sir. She seemed… in a hurry."

Rosalind Fairchild had left without a word. Without an explanation. Without him.

Lucian didn’t hesitate. He booked the next flight out, his mind racing.

By the time he landed in Metropolia, Nathaniel was already waiting at the arrivals gate. "Sir."

Lucian slid into the back of the sleek black car. "Where is she?"

"Straight to the Whitmore estate," Nathaniel confirmed.

Home.

Of course she’d go there.

"Drive."

Thirty minutes later, the car rolled to a stop outside the grand iron gates of the Whitmore mansion. Lucian pulled out his phone, dialing for the fifth time.

This time, she answered.

"Hello?"

His grip on the phone turned bone-white. "Come outside. Now."

Rosalind stood at her bedroom window, watching the scene unfold below. The floor-length curtains fluttered around her like ghosts of the future they’d planned.

She had known he would come.

But she hadn’t prepared for the storm in his eyes when he finally saw her.