Chapter 115

Reudie furrowed her brows and turned to lock her clear, cold gaze with Julian’s angry eyes. She raised her eyebrows and asked, “What’s the matter, Mr. Galloway? Got something to say?”

“Legire,” Julian’s voice was cold and commanding. The words were sharp and firm, making Rosalie freeze for a split second.

Unexpectedly, Roseanne brightened at Julian’s words. She thought with a smug grin, ‘I knew it! Julian won’t let me suffer. So what if she’s his ex-wife! They’re divorced now, and she’s nothing. She’ll be the one apologizing to me in the end, won’t she?’

Standing behind Julian, Kaleb watched, his face turning a little exasperated. He thought, shaking his head, ‘No hope for him. Seriously, this guy just doesn’t learn his lesson. But at least he’s got a talent for digging his own grave.’

Meanwhile, Rosalie remained calm. Hearing Julian’s cold, authoritative command, she let out a light laugh and replied, “Excuse me?”

“Apologize,” Julian gritted his teeth, his frustration spilling over. He hated how Rosalie was completely ignoring him. More than that, he was scared that one day, she’d completely cut him off. If he didn’t do something to make her notice him, he feared he’d fade completely from her life.

But, of course, Julian’s way of making her see him was all wrong. He was only pushing Rosalie further away, just like he always had, yet he never realized it.

“You slapped her, and now you just want to walk away?” Julian added, his anger blinding him to the cold flash of disappointment that flickered in Rosalie’s eyes.

That brief moment of disappointment quickly vanished, but it had landed a hit nonetheless. Rosalie lifted her eyelids slightly and stared back at him with a mix of disbelief and scorn. Then, noticing Roseanne’s smug, almost victorious expression, Rosalie smirked and jerked her wrist free of Julian’s grip.

“Julian, if your brain isn’t doing you any favors, maybe you should just donate it. It’s not like it’s useful for anything else,” she said, her voice dripping with disdain.

Without waiting for his dark, menacing expression to worsen, Rosalie hopped into a cab. As the door slammed shut, she told the driver, “Oakfield Tower, please.” Her voice, so sharp with Julian moments ago, now softened, almost gentle.

Once inside the car, she straightened her back, but only for a moment before slouching slightly. She gazed out the window, her eyes following the passing cars without blinking. She was trying hard to hold back tears. The pain was there, lurking just behind her eyes, but she fought it down. She had known Julian would side with Roseanne, and she had prepared herself, but still, his demand for an apology without considering her side stung. The coldness in his eyes, the absence of any warmth—it made her feel sick, and her chest tightened.

Outside the cab, Julian watched her drive away, his face even darker. Sensing an opportunity, Roseanne walked over and added fuel to the fire. “Can you believe her! Not only did she hit me, but now she’s insulting you, too. She really has no shame. I’ve never met someone so rude and disrespectful.”