Chapter 950

"Carry this child to term and surrender it to me." Lucian Graves' voice was firm, his piercing gaze locked onto Rosalind Fairchild. "Name your price—anything within my power to grant. Just ensure this baby enters the world safely, and I'll honor your demands."

Rosalind hadn't anticipated Lucian would concede this much for the unborn child. It struck her then—his love for this baby ran deeper than she'd realized.

Yet, he had misjudged her entirely.

With no proof of her innocence and the looming threats from Julian Blackwood and Genevieve, she couldn't afford a misstep. For now, she had to play her part.

"Fine," Rosalind agreed coolly. "I'll keep the baby."

Relief flooded Lucian's expression. The child was inside her. If she had wanted to harm it, she could have done so already. But she had agreed. That alone was enough to ease the tension in his shoulders.

"State your terms," he demanded.

"We end this. Permanently." Her voice was ice. "No more contact. No more interference. We're through."

Lucian stiffened.

Rosalind shoved past him. "You're suffocating me. Stay out of my life."

His jaw clenched, knuckles whitening as he fought to keep his composure. After a weighted silence, he exhaled sharply. "Done."

Her chest ached.

"But mark my words," Lucian added, his tone darkening, "if anything happens to that child, I won't hesitate to destroy you. And Whitmore Holdings will burn alongside you. Don't test me."

A threat.

Rosalind nodded stiffly. "The baby will be fine."

"I'll be checking in. Daily."

She tensed. "It's barely a fetus. How exactly do you plan to monitor it?"

His palm settled over her abdomen, warm and possessive. "I'll ensure its safety myself."

The heat of his touch seeped through her skin, unsettling yet steady. Rosalind swallowed. "Fine."

"You'll remain here at Rosewood Manor for the duration of the pregnancy."

Her protest died on her lips as he cut her off.

"Relax. I won't be here. The office will keep me occupied."

Trapped. But she nodded. "Understood."

Lucian withdrew his hand. "Rest. I have business to attend to."

Then he was gone.

From the upstairs window, Rosalind watched as Genevieve intercepted him on the manicured lawn below.

The woman wasted no time. "Lucian, I heard Ms. Fairchild was at the hospital today. Is she pregnant?"

He strode toward his car without sparing her a glance.

Undeterred, Genevieve pressed on. "Why was she there? Was she trying to—" Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "End it?"

A calculated pause.

"How could she be so cruel? That's a life she's discarding!"

Lucian halted beside his sleek black car, keys glinting in his grip. "Don't mention her again. We're finished."

Genevieve's lips curled in triumph.

It had worked. Her scheme to drive them apart had succeeded.

Lucian and Rosalind were over—because of the baby.

Perfect.