Chapter 886
Lucian's voice echoed through the hospital corridor as he called after Rosalind, but she kept walking without turning back.
His vision blurred suddenly. The world tilted. With a heavy thud, Lucian's body hit the cold linoleum floor.
The sound made Rosalind whirl around. Her breath caught when she saw him lying motionless. "Lucian!"
She took two frantic steps forward before freezing in her tracks. A familiar silhouette emerged from the opposite hallway - Genevieve.
Genevieve rushed to Lucian's side, her hands fluttering over his unconscious form. "Lucian? Can you hear me?"
Rosalind's feet rooted to the spot as their agreement flashed through her mind. The deal was simple: she would walk away, and Genevieve would deliver the Frostbloom.
"Mr. Graves!" Nathaniel came sprinting down the corridor. "We need medical assistance immediately!"
The emergency team swarmed around Lucian, lifting him onto a gurney with practiced efficiency. Rosalind watched helplessly as they wheeled him away.
Genevieve approached with measured steps. "I've been expecting this moment. You've honored our arrangement?"
Rosalind's throat tightened. "It's done."
A satisfied smile curved Genevieve's lips. "Excellent."
"The Frostbloom?" Rosalind pressed.
"Don't worry," Genevieve assured. "I'll personally ensure Lucian receives it. You should leave now. His wellbeing is no longer your concern."
The dismissal stung. "Will you truly care for him?" Rosalind couldn't help asking.
Genevieve's chin lifted. "Naturally. The next time you see Lucian, he'll be fully recovered - and completely over you."
Rosalind's nails bit into her palms. "Very well."
Turning away felt like tearing her own heart out. Each step toward the exit was agony, her chest constricting with unbearable pain.
Days passed without contact. Rumor had it Genevieve never left Lucian's bedside. He was discharged within the week.
Later, Harrison called with updates. The six-hour reconstructive surgery had been successful. Given a month's recovery, Lucian's face would heal perfectly.
Rosalind absorbed this information secondhand, never daring to reach out. Their story had reached its final chapter.
She told herself this was for the best. Lucian was healing. Everything had worked out as planned.
Yet the emptiness gnawed at her. Nights became endless as she lay awake, wondering about his recovery, craving just one glimpse of him.
Victoria noticed the change. "Darling, you've been so withdrawn lately. What's troubling you?"
Not wanting to burden her parents, Rosalind forced a smile. "Just exhausted from the new collection deadlines."
"I had Cook prepare your favorite chicken broth." Victoria bustled toward the kitchen. "You're wasting away before my eyes."
Returning with a steaming bowl, Victoria pressed it into Rosalind's hands. "Drink up while it's hot."
Rosalind reached for it, then suddenly doubled over. Violent nausea wracked her body as she retched uncontrollably, bringing up nothing but bile and tears.
"Good heavens!" Victoria rubbed her back anxiously. "What's brought this on?"
In that moment, realization struck like lightning.
Her cycle was over a month late.
Could it possibly be...? Was she carrying Lucian's child?