Chapter 952

Lucian Graves' lips curled into a smirk. "Ironically enough, Mr. Blackwood happens to be at this very lounge tonight."

Dominic was here?

"Where?" Rosalind Fairchild asked sharply.

Lucian gestured toward the VIP section. "Right there in the corner booth."

Rosalind's gaze followed his direction and immediately spotted Dominic Graves seated in an opulent velvet booth. He was surrounded by several sharply dressed young executives, clearly enjoying a night out.

Her breath caught when she recognized the woman beside him - Genevieve.

The elegant doctor was practically glued to Dominic's side, laughing at something he said. The dim lighting cast shadows across Dominic's chiseled features, making his expression unreadable.

"Seems our dear Mr. Blackwood has found himself some charming company," Lucian remarked with a teasing lilt.

Rosalind watched as the executives began playfully ribbing the pair. "Dr. Blackwood, are you and Mr. Graves an item now?"

"Of course she is! Look how close they're sitting. They make quite the striking couple."

"When's the wedding? We'll need to start planning the bachelor party!"

Genevieve laughed melodically, waving them off. "Oh stop, you're being ridiculous."

Reginald, sitting nearby, looked particularly pleased with the teasing - no doubt thrilled that Dominic and Rosalind had parted ways.

"Dominic," Reginald said pointedly, "you and Genevieve have been inseparable lately. When are you going to make an honest woman out of her?"

The entire group seemed determined to push the two together.

Dominic remained silent, simply raising his crystal tumbler and draining it in one smooth motion.

"Easy there," Genevieve murmured, placing a delicate hand on his arm.

Rosalind felt an acidic taste in her mouth. This confirmed it - their breakup was final. Dominic believed she'd terminated her pregnancy, and that betrayal had cut deep.

Now he was free to move on. And apparently, he had.

Just then, the emcee's voice boomed through the lounge. "Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next performer - the stunning campus belle of Westfield University, Isabella Delacroix!"

The crowd erupted in cheers.

Rosalind turned to see Isabella take the stage. The young woman radiated youthful beauty in her flowing chiffon dress. As the music swelled, Isabella launched into an energetic contemporary routine.

Every movement flowed with breathtaking grace - her pirouettes flawless, her extensions perfect. The audience watched mesmerized.

Harrison leaned toward Rosalind. "Don't you think she resembles you somewhat?"

Rosalind had already noticed. Isabella could have been her younger doppelgänger - same delicate features, same ethereal presence.

Lucian settled beside her. "You might not know this, but Isabella has quite the nickname at Westfield."

"What's that?" Rosalind asked.

"They call her 'Rosalind 2.0'."

The moniker made sense, given their uncanny resemblance. Rosalind simply sipped her drink without comment.

On stage, Isabella's performance reached its crescendo. With a final spinning leap, she descended into the audience, weaving between tables to amp up the energy.

Then, with calculated precision, Isabella made her way toward Dominic's booth. Her doelike eyes locked onto him as she executed a perfect spin - landing directly in his lap.

Rosalind's stomach lurched. There Isabella sat, perched on Dominic's thighs, gazing up at him with adoring eyes.

The crowd went wild, whistles and applause filling the luxurious lounge.