Chapter 911

Rosalind's lashes fluttered in confusion. What was he implying? Whether he returned tonight or not was hardly her decision to make.

Rainwater traced the sharp angles of Lucian's jaw before falling in steady droplets.

Concerned he might fall ill, Rosalind hurriedly offered, "You're drenched. Let me get you a towel."

She disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a plush towel, holding it out. "Dry yourself off. You should shower too—I don't want you catching a cold."

Lucian carelessly flung the towel onto the floor. "Why the sudden concern? Planning another scheme?"

Rosalind stared at the discarded towel, baffled. "What's wrong with you today? Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed, or did your precious date not go as planned?"

She turned to leave, but Lucian seized her wrist, yanking her back.

"Let go of me!" she snapped, twisting in his grip.

A cold laugh escaped him. "So you did know about my date. Were you hoping I'd have such a fantastic time that I'd end up in a hotel room? That would've made your day, wouldn't it?"

Rosalind couldn't follow his logic.

What was he even accusing her of? He was the one who had gone out with another woman, yet here he was, taking his frustrations out on her.

Her clear eyes locked onto his stormy expression. "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, get out!"

Lucian pulled her closer. "Did Vivian put you up to getting my Instagram?"

Rosalind hadn't planned to mention it, but since he asked, she answered truthfully. "Yes. She asked me to. I didn’t expect you to actually give it to me—but you did. You followed her and took her out. Does your girlfriend know about that?"

His eyes narrowed dangerously. "My girlfriend? Who exactly are you referring to?"

"Genevieve," Rosalind said. "Isn’t she your girlfriend?"

That seemed to ignite his temper. "How many women are you trying to push me toward? Genevieve, Vivian—what do you take me for? Some kind of playboy? Should I schedule one for mornings and the other for evenings?"

"I wouldn’t know how to manage that," she replied flatly.

Lucian scoffed. "Oh, I think you'd be an expert at it! Two-timing, three-timing—it’s your specialty, isn’t it?"

Rosalind was stunned. "When have I ever dated multiple people at once?"

"Julian. Gregory. Me," he bit out. "Which one of us hasn’t been wrapped around your finger?"

She was speechless. That wasn’t true.

She had never crossed lines with anyone but Lucian. She had kept her distance from the others.

Her patience shattered. She had spent the day thinking about him while he was out with another woman—and now he came back just to take his anger out on her?

Rosalind snapped, "However many men you think I’m involved with, I can assure you, you’re not one of them. What I do is none of your business!"

She tried to wrench free.

"Let me go! Don’t touch me!"

But Lucian’s eyes darkened with something dangerous. Whatever restraint he had been clinging to finally snapped. All he saw was her defiant expression, her lips moving, each word provoking him further.

And in that moment, he had only one thought—to silence her.

Lucian crushed his mouth against hers.