Blind Date Turned Proposal novel Chapter 1191

The declaration from Dexter sent a shockwave through Josie. While she had considered numerous ways to deal with Arnold, the finality of death had never been part of her contemplation. It felt too final, too extreme, and besides, there were unresolved matters concerning her father that needed addressing.

She quickly voiced her concerns, “No, no matter what direction this situation takes, we need to keep him alive. The issue with my father hasn't been settled yet.”

Dexter's response was cool and unyielding, “Your hope is admirable, but I can't guarantee anything.”

His silhouette became more pronounced under the moonlight streaming through the window, giving his dark attire an ominous sheen.

“Let me take the lead on this. I'm prepared to exhaust every avenue,” he stated, though the air between them always seemed to grow tense whenever this topic was broached.

As they stood at an impasse, the sound of footsteps and the turning of a lock from outside disrupted the moment. Josie's gaze darted toward the door, only to find Dexter had vanished into the bathroom in the blink of an eye.

When she turned back, Arnold was leisurely making his entrance. “I was half expecting to find my room in shambles,” he commented with a hint of amusement.

Josie took a deep breath and settled herself on the expansive bed, her posture relaxed. “You've really outdone yourself,” she remarked, “Winning over Lucas Yowell's daughter. Is she aware that you have another side to you—that of Arnold Carter, a man on the run?”

Arnold's expression briefly faltered before regaining its composure. “You recognized her then. Quite astute.”

“Thanks to your escapades, I've had my fair share of mingling with the elite. What did you expect?” Arnold mused, stepping further into the room. “In this world, you carve out your own identity. If I claim I'm Robyn, she has no choice but to accept that as truth.”

That was when it clicked for Josie. “So there is an actual Robyn Mills out there. You've obscured him, usurping his identity,” she realized, understanding why Arnold's integration had been so seamless.

Arnold's smile was tinged with condescension. “I thought you'd be quicker on the uptake. Discovering this only now doesn't speak highly of your wits.”

Arnold casually walked over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle of brandy. Josie observed him closely, her anxiety easing slightly as he seemed not to dwell too much on her question.

“The more reserved a woman is, the more she's drawn to men who defy norms. And such men are invariably attracted to the 'bad' women,” Arnold mused, pouring himself a drink. “Josephine isn't 'bad' enough.”

Their eyes met, a silent conversation in the flickering shadows.

“And what about me?” Josie asked, a challenge in her gaze

“Your appeal to Dexter was never just about your virtues. It was your wit, your guile, and your decisiveness that drew him in. If you were as docile as Josephine, would he still feel the same?” Arnold's words hung in the air, prompting Josie to glance toward the bathroom door, which was slightly ajar, revealing a shadow within.

Deep down, she wanted to know, was that really the case?