Rosette’s Point of View~~~I leaned over the sink, my palms pressed against the cold porcelain as I stared at my reflection in the mirror. My mascara was smudged, my lips swollen, and my dress looked like it had been dragged through a storm.I looked disgusting. Not because of the mess, but because of the woman staring back at me.How could I let this happen? Again?Behind me, I heard the faint sound of fabric shifting. Cesare was pulling his trousers back on. I didn’t have to turn around to know his eyes were still fixed on me. That man never looked away, like he could burn holes into me just by staring long enough.When his voice finally cut through the silence, it was deep, steady, and cruelly amused.“I hope I’ve made you miserable enough,” he muttered, his gaze catching mine in the mirror, “to be attracted to me instead of that bastard.”My chest tightened. Heat flushed through me, not the kind I wanted. Rage. Disgust. Shame.I didn’t answer him. My jaw clenched as I grabbed my
Rosette’s point of view ~~~My breath hitched the moment my back pressed against the cold tile of the restroom wall. Damn it, why did he have this hold on me? I was against this—against him—yet my skin tingled where his breath brushed my neck, and the warm ache that had started low in my belly, intensified.He didn’t answer with words. Instead, he moved, his hand cupping my chin roughly, tilting my face up to meet his dark gaze. “Explain all you can. But nothing will stop me from executing what I have in mind to do to you tonight,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as his thumb traced my lower lip. I tried to pull back, but he held me firm, his other hand sliding to my waist, pulling me against him. His hardness pressed into me, and I gasped, my body responding against my will, a flush creeping up my chest. “Don't do this. don't—” I started, but he crashed his lips onto mine, the kiss hard and demanding, his tongue forcing its way in and savoring everywhere he tasted last ti
Rosette’s point of view~~~“Or is your wife not satisfying you enough in bed?”Blake’s eyes glinted at me in that way that annoyed me, that made me want to poke my two fingers into it. That glimmer of lust, obsession, madness — whatever it was — made my skin crawl. Leila’s gasp still hung in the air, her face flushed red from rage, but he didn’t even glance at her. He only looked at me.And then he stepped forward.The bastard actually dared to close the space between us, not giving a single damn about the fury burning off his wife beside him. His hand lifted, brushing against my arm like he had the right. I jerked back immediately, my patience thinning to threads. Why can't he just keep his hands off me?“The only person I want…” he started, voice low and grating, “...through the moon and stars, up and down, is you.”I paused. That phrase, I used to say it a lot to Blake when he newly wed Leila. He would apologize and stupid me would come back to him, saying those exact words.How
Rosette’s point of view ~~~The moment I turned, my eyes landed on the last two people I ever wanted to see.Leila.And Blake.The sight of them standing there together was like a knife sliding into my chest.For a heartbeat, I froze, gripping the stem of my flute a little harder. My stomach churned. I hated them—no, hate wasn’t strong enough a word. I loathed them. Every nerve in my body screamed at the sight of them.Blake looked different. His jawline seemed smaller now. His nose was crooked, his cheekbones uneven, and there were faint traces of scars that makeup couldn’t quite cover. His once handsome face looked almost foreign now.The memory of that brutal morning flashed before my eyes. The way Cesare’s punches had echoed, the way blood painted Blake's face. The fear in me had been real, yes, but so was the relief. Because he deserved it. Every broken bone, every drop of pain, every mark on his face, he earned it.And even now, even with those warped features, he still had tha
Rosette’s point of view ~~~I turned fully toward Mr. Blakewood, ignoring Cesare completely even though I could still feel him standing behind me, radiating an uncomfortable warmth.Mr. Blakewood looked older than I remembered. Time had carved deep lines into his face, but it hadn’t touched the sharpness of his gaze. His dark suit fit perfectly, his posture was straight and his presence was heavy enough to command the entire place without even trying. He was easily in his fifties, but there was nothing fragile about him. If anything, the years had only made him more intimidating.Still, when his eyes landed on me, surprise flickered there.“It really is you, Miss Rosette,” His voice was deep, steady, the kind of tone that could silence a room in seconds.I immediately slipped into my act, widening my eyes, softening my lips into a polite smile like I hadn’t expected to see him either. “Mr. Blakewood,” I said, my voice laced with practiced warmth. “What a surprise.”We shook hands
Rosette’s point of view ~~~The gown on me, was perfect. A soft satin that clung to me in all the right places, the color a deep dark red that reflected the light every time I moved. The neckline dipped just enough to be bold but not desperate, and the slit running up my thigh made me feel like I could walk into a battlefield and win, not just an auction hall. The sleeves were off the shoulder, hugging my skin, leaving my collarbones bare. My hair, curled into loose waves, fell down my back, and I wore a single pair of diamond earrings, my father’s last gift before he passed. I pressed my lips together and straightened my back as I walked through the tall golden doors.The room was already buzzing with laughter, clinking glasses, murmurs of money, and deals disguised as casual conversations. Warm golden light, reflected off the glasses of champagne and the shine of expensive jewels wrapped around both young and aging necks. Every table was draped in white, the staff weaving bet