His Untamed Rose novel Chapter 131

“What do you mean?” Keegan watched the soft-spoken, fair-skinned woman across from him with keen interest, his tone suddenly much gentler. “Do you know Linus?”

“How could I?” Lumina smiled faintly. “I was just thinking, if you’re planning to bring Linus here, and he shows up with friends, wouldn’t it be awkward for me to stay?”

Keegan grinned. “Well, I don’t know if he’ll bring anyone along, but since he’s coming, why not have dinner together and get to know each other? Linus is a pretty remarkable guy.”

“It’s fine. I’ll just head out that day, no need to worry.” Lumina’s voice was calm, almost detached.

The truth was, she and Linus knew each other.

But since she’d severed ties with that man, she had no intention of seeing anyone in his circle again.

No need to stir up old wounds and let the past reopen what had barely healed.

...

A month might be nothing to the Royce Group—barely long enough to confirm a new trainee, let alone change anything of consequence.

But for Cedric, time had crawled unbearably slow.

Work kept him busy enough during the day to ignore the ache of loneliness. But when night fell, or in those early hours before dawn, lying alone in bed and staring at his solitary shadow on the wall, the emptiness cut at him, slow and relentless as a dull blade.

He hadn’t slept through the night in ages.

Yet this afternoon, during his lunch break, he somehow managed to drift off in the lounge attached to his office.

In his dream, the light flickered and cast shadows on the wall—two entwined figures, indistinct but achingly familiar.

The first time, she had only just turned twenty.

The medicine wore off for her, but for him, the intoxication only deepened.

A knock at the door snapped Cedric out of his reverie.

He opened his eyes, dark and clouded, still wrapped in exhaustion.

He stared blankly at the office—desk, chairs, coffee table, pens and paper—the familiar trappings of his world.

The door opened, a sliver of light spilling in, illuminating his face, still flushed and shadowed by dreams that hadn’t quite faded.

He narrowed his dangerous, fox-like eyes.

“Cedric?” Winona hesitated under his stare, her body tensing involuntarily.

That raw, slightly wild look in his eyes—tinged with longing—was impossible to miss. The veins stood out on his hand where he gripped the blanket, and under the edge of his shirt, muscle tensed.

One glance was enough for Winona’s face to burn. She quickly averted her gaze. “Did I wake you, sir?”

He didn’t answer, rubbing his brow as if he hadn’t fully shaken off the dream. He exhaled heavily. “Wait outside.”

Once the door closed, Cedric leaned against the headboard and took a gulp of cold water, trying to douse the fire raging inside him. It didn’t help. In the end, he poured the rest of the water over his head, letting the icy shock numb what was left of his restlessness.

Winona waited quietly in the hall, her chin tucked down, uneasy. Something about the way Cedric looked lately was off.

Hilton approached from down the corridor, calling out, “Ms. Tatum, what are you doing out here all alone?”

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