Chapter 881

Rosalind stared at the note in her trembling hands, reading the single line repeatedly until the words blurred. Her breath caught when she glanced out the window and spotted Lucian's sleek black car parked below.

He had come after her.

Now he was demanding she come down to meet him.

Her fingers tightened around the phone. "This isn't a good time, Lucian. Whatever you have to say, say it over the phone."

"Mr. Graves now?" His bitter laugh sent chills down her spine. "That's rich, considering how you screamed my name last night. Typical - forget everything once the sheets cool?"

Rosalind remained silent for three heartbeats. "Just say what you came to say. If you're done, I'm hanging up."

"Don't you dare!" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, colder than Arctic winds.

"Then get to the point."

"Why did you leave?" The raw pain in his question made her flinch. "I woke up alone. No note, no explanation - just gone."

Silence stretched between them.

"I can pretend none of this happened," he continued, desperation creeping into his tone. "The wedding plans have already started. Whatever venue, whatever dress you want—"

"Stop!" She cut him off sharply. If he kept talking, she'd crumble. "Did you read the note on the nightstand?"

When he didn't respond, she pressed on. "I left everything I needed to say in that note."

"I saw it." His voice turned flat. "And I don't accept it."

Her grip on the phone turned painful. "We're done, Lucian. There's nothing more to discuss."

"Like hell we are!" His sudden shout made her jump. "I'm not breaking up with you!"

The words lodged in her throat like shards of glass.

"Did you hear me, Rosalind? I refuse to let you go!" His voice cracked with emotion.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She didn't want this either, but it was necessary.

For his sake.

As Everett, he'd lost his father young, branded a drug dealer's son. The whispers followed him through childhood until his mother's death and that tragic cliffside accident plunged him into permanent darkness.

Now as Lucian, he stood at the threshold of light - so close to redemption.

She wanted that light for him.

With a heart heavier than lead, she forced out the words: "It's over. Face your demons alone." Her finger hovered over the end call button.

"Come down here!" he roared.

"No."

"If you're ending this," he snapped, "have the decency to say it to my face! I'm right outside!"

"I've said all I need to say."

"Then I'll wait here all night!"

"Do what you want." She disconnected.

From her window, she watched his motionless silhouette beside the car. He wasn't leaving.

Then heaven opened.

Lightning split the sky as torrential rain hammered down. Still he stood there, getting drenched, staring up at her window.

Her chest constricted.

Why wouldn't he leave? Why torture himself like this?

Below, Lucian remained rooted. He'd wait until she came down, until hell froze over if necessary.

Last night had been perfect. Then she'd vanished with that damned note. He wouldn't accept it.

Icy rivulets streamed down his face when suddenly - the rain stopped.

An umbrella appeared above him.

He turned slowly.

Rosalind.

She'd come.

His eyes blazed with hope. "You came! I knew you wouldn't—"

He reached for her hand but stopped when rainwater dripped from his sleeve onto hers. Flustered, he tried wiping it away. "Sorry, I'm soaked. Let's go inside and—"

She interrupted coldly, "Say what you need to say."

"You think I'm here to beg?" Her voice cut like shards of ice. "I came so my parents wouldn't worry. That's all."

The words struck him like physical blows.

He stared at her rain-pale face - still breathtaking, but all warmth gone.