Chapter 956

Rosalind inhaled deeply, steadying her nerves. "Enter."

The door swung open, revealing Lucian's imposing figure.

Tension crackled in the air like static electricity. Though neither acknowledged it, the memory of their earlier encounter lingered between them.

Lucian closed the distance with measured steps. "My apologies for not knocking before."

Rosalind's fingers tightened around her sweater. "No matter. What brings you here?"

His gaze dropped to her midsection. "Have you forgotten our arrangement? Daily check-ins are mandatory."

She hadn't forgotten. She'd simply hoped he might—especially after leaving with Isabella earlier. The way they'd departed together suggested other priorities.

"Proceed," she murmured, shifting to grant access.

Lucian knelt gracefully, his warm palms cradling her swollen belly. "Any disturbances today?" His baritone voice resonated through her skin.

"None."

"Then why did Mathilda report barely touched meals?" His thumbs traced idle circles.

Rosalind lifted her chin. "I dined at The Velvet Lounge with Harrison. Ironically, we spotted you there."

She searched his face for tells, but his expression remained impassive.

"Didn't notice you."

"Naturally. You seemed... preoccupied with your new executive assistant." The words tasted bitter.

Lucian's hands stilled. After a weighted pause, he confirmed, "Indeed."

The confirmation stung more than she'd anticipated. At his status, maintaining bachelorhood was unrealistic. Young, ambitious women like Isabella were inevitable.

Suddenly, Lucian pressed his cheek against her stomach, his breath warm through the fabric. Rosalind stiffened.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Relax. This is for the child, not you."

She exhaled shakily. "Of course."

"Behave for your mother," he murmured against her belly. "I'll return tomorrow." The featherlight kiss he planted sent unexpected tremors through her.

As he rose, a melodic ringtone shattered the moment. Isabella's name flashed on his screen.

Rosalind remembered the coy way Isabella had requested his number at the bar. Now she was calling—from outside the manor, no less.

"Mr. Graves?" Isabella's saccharine voice carried clearly. "I'm waiting at the gates. Shall I keep the engine running?"

Rosalind's nails bit into her palms. The audacity to loiter at their home.

"Departing now," Lucian answered curtly.

He pocketed the phone, his gaze sweeping over Rosalind one final time. "Rest well."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him like a full stop to their fractured conversation.