Chapter 896

Rosalind's cheeks burned crimson, her breathing shallow and erratic. "Lucian..."

His voice emerged rough and strained as he whispered, "Genevieve..."

He had called out Genevieve's name.

A glacial wave crashed over Rosalind, freezing her to the core.

So he believed she was Genevieve? Had they already been intimate?

Genevieve had mentioned their impending marriage. Did that mean... they'd already crossed that line?

Rosalind's heart shattered like fragile glass. Her normally serene eyes now blazed with anguish. She shoved Lucian away violently and fled to the bedroom.

The door slammed with finality as she collapsed against it, sliding down to the floor in a heap.

Wrapping her arms around her knees, silent tears streamed down her face like molten silver, each drop scalding her skin.

The pain in her chest was unbearable.

So this was the agony of hearing the man you love whisper another woman's name against your skin.

Rosalind bit her lip bloody to stifle her sobs, though her entire body trembled with suppressed grief.

Meanwhile, Lucian remained motionless on the couch. He draped an arm over his eyes, attempting to smother the lingering fire in his gaze.

The craving for her still burned through his veins.

His throat worked convulsively. When he finally opened his eyes, they reflected only hollow emptiness against the ceiling.

No one could decipher his thoughts. After an eternity, a bitter chuckle escaped him - self-deprecating and utterly devoid of warmth.

Rosalind finally succumbed to exhaustion near dawn, causing her to oversleep.

Lillian had to rouse her gently. "Rosalind?"

She sat up blearily. "How are you feeling?"

Her fingers brushed Lillian's forehead. The fever had subsided, though residual warmth lingered.

Lillian appeared markedly improved - color had returned to her cheeks and vitality to her movements. "Much better. But... what happened to you? Your eyes..."

Rosalind's eyes were swollen from last night's torrent of tears.

"Poor sleep," Rosalind deflected. "I'll apply a warm compress."

In the bathroom, she pressed a steaming towel against her throbbing eyelids.

"Lucian prepared breakfast," Lillian mentioned. "You should eat before resting more."

Just his name sent fresh daggers through Rosalind's chest. But life continued, and she couldn't burden Lillian with her heartbreak.

She forced a smile. "Of course."

After ten minutes, the swelling diminished. Rosalind dressed and followed Lillian out.

Lucian stood impeccably attired in a crisp white shirt and tailored trousers. He placed a glass of milk on the table. "Breakfast is ready."

His composure was flawless, as if last night's events had never occurred.

Rosalind attempted to mirror his detachment but faltered. "I'll fetch the cutlery."

She turned abruptly - directly into Lucian's solid chest.

Startled, she looked up into his penetrating gaze and froze.

Lillian erupted in exaggerated giggles. "Honestly! Must you two be so obvious? I'm far too young for such scandalous displays!"

She dramatically covered her eyes. "Pay me no mind! I saw nothing! Continue your... whatever this is!"

Rosalind's face ignited with embarrassment - words failed her completely.