Chapter 906

Rosalind genuinely cared about Lucian and Madeline, so deeply that she offered her most sincere, heartfelt advice.

Madeline set down her fork, leaned across the table, and pressed her palm over Rosalind's lips.

"Please, just stop. I'm begging you."

Lucian watched Rosalind's flushed cheeks and Madeline's triumphant smirk. The corners of his mouth lifted in a rare, unguarded smile.

That night, Rosalind and Madeline shared a bedroom, while Lucian retired to the guest suite. By dawn, he was already en route to his office.

Seated at his desk, Lucian barely glanced up when Nathaniel entered, placing a sleek folder beside him. "Mr. Graves, your afternoon schedule."

Lucian continued annotating a contract, his pen moving in swift, precise strokes. Without lifting his gaze, he issued a command. "Clear everything after six."

"Is this for your dinner reservation?" Nathaniel ventured.

Lucian gave a single nod. "The restaurant is confirmed?"

"Everything's arranged," Nathaniel assured. Then, hesitating, he added carefully, "Is this... an intimate dinner with Ms. Fairchild?"

Lucian arched a brow. "Who else would it be?"

Nathaniel wisely kept silent. The entire company recognized it—Lucian was utterly devoted to Rosalind, treating her like the rarest treasure. He was hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

By late afternoon, Lucian had wrapped up his meetings. At precisely five, he rose and approached the floor-to-ceiling windows.

He studied his reflection briefly before smoothing a hand through his hair.

Just then, Reginald strode in. "You look fine."

Lucian adjusted his cufflinks.

Reginald shot him an amused glance. "Nathaniel mentioned your six o'clock reservation. A date?"

Lucian didn't deny it.

"With Rosalind?" Reginald pressed.

"Yes."

Reginald's expression darkened. "Have you forgotten how she rejected you? Called you unattractive? It hasn't even been that long."

Lucian met his gaze steadily. "She finds me handsome now. Isn't that enough?"

Reginald was speechless. This was next-level infatuation.

"Have some self-respect," Reginald argued. "She discarded you before. Now you're running back? What's wrong with you?"

Lucian's voice dropped. "She said she's attracted to me."

Reginald blinked. "What?"

"Last night," Lucian murmured, "she told me she's into me. I asked how much. She said very." His fingers flexed. "I wanted to stay angry, to punish her—but how? She said she's into me. Don't you understand? She said very into me."

Reginald stared—no, he didn't understand.

Lucian continued, voice rough. "I tried to resist. Planned a hundred ways to make her suffer—ignore her, never take her back, even if she begged." He exhaled sharply. "But I couldn't.

When she's near, I can't look away. When she's gone, I can't stop thinking. My mind, my heart—it's all her. The words she said when she rejected me? Gone. But her saying she's into me? That's branded into me.

I'm not unattractive anymore, right? If she wants this version of me, isn't that enough? Why cling to the past?"

Reginald had no response. Lucian was beyond saving.