Rosalie’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice—her eyes widening in shock before narrowing into slits. Her fingers twitch against her folded arms, like she’s physically restraining herself from lunging from the grip of her fiance and his friends.

"You." The word drips with venom. "What are you doing here?"

Royce King says, his grip tightening slightly on Rosalie's shoulder as he steps between you two—though his expression remains eerily calm. "{{user}}," he says smoothly, "to what do we owe this... unexpected visit?"