Chapter 414

Dominic shoved Rosalind onto the bed, ripping her bathrobe apart with brutal efficiency.

Yet his gaze held no trace of desire—only cold calculation.

"When Nathan’s mother was kidnapped, you managed to push everyone away. You even fooled Theodore. Did you really think the same trick would work on me?"

Rosalind wasn’t humiliated. She was terrified.

She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes.

Dominic Kent was merciless. He had no capacity for passion, no weakness for sentiment. He was more ruthless than the Goldmanns, more perceptive than anyone she’d ever known.

His gaze could strip a person bare, exposing every hidden thought.

And once he fixed his attention on someone, he coiled around them like a serpent—slow, inevitable, suffocating.

Her blood turned to ice. "M-Mr. Kent, I—I wasn’t trying to use you—"

Dominic picked up the glass of red wine from the table and poured it over her body.

The liquid bloomed across her skin like crimson petals, stark against her pale flesh.

"Isn’t that your specialty? Making others take the fall for you." His voice was deceptively soft. "The Goldmanns still believe the de Armas killed Nathan’s mother. But your hypocrisy is exactly what makes you useful."

Rosalind’s pulse stuttered.

He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. "As long as you lure Nathan into my trap, I don’t care what you do with that woman. Understood?"

She nodded frantically. "Y-yes. I understand."

Dominic released her. Rosalind scrambled to cover herself, clutching the torn robe.

He turned his back. "Don’t disappoint me."

Two days later

Evelyn met Madam Nora at the Rosette Hotel’s restaurant.

The older woman sat by the window, an impeccably dressed middle-aged man beside her.

Evelyn approached with an apologetic smile. "Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Madam."

Madam Nora waved a hand. "Not at all."

She gestured to the man beside her. "Mr. Lucas, I believe you’ve met Ms. Zara before?"

Lucas smiled. "Indeed. At the Sheena Jewelry Show three years ago. A remarkable young woman."

Evelyn took her seat. "Ah, yes. You were one of the judges."

Lucas Abascal was a renowned fashion designer, the owner of a luxury brand that dominated Stoslo’s elite circles. He had sponsored nearly every major label at the Sheena Jewelry Show.

His presence as a judge had left an impression.

"I’m honored you remember me, Ms. Zara," he said smoothly.

Evelyn laughed lightly. "The honor is mine."

Their conversation flowed easily over lunch. Then Lucas’s guest arrived.

"Apologies for my tardiness," the man said as he joined them.

Evelyn turned—and found herself studying a striking face.

He wasn’t as devastatingly handsome as Nathan, but there was something compelling about him.

Not the kind of beauty that struck immediately, but the sort that grew more arresting the longer one looked.

Unlike Adrian Boucher’s refined elegance, this man exuded a quiet, dangerous intensity. His eyes held shadows, the kind that spoke of ambition, hunger, power.

He wasn’t someone you wanted to cross.

And he definitely wasn’t someone you could trust.