Chapter three

Masks and Smiles

Rosette's pov 

The morning light was treacherous, painting the grand halls with false serenity. Every polished surface gleamed with wealth, every window framed the city like a jewel in a cage. But I saw through it all. I saw the rot beneath the gold, the lies hidden behind smiles, the power that masked cruelty.

I moved like a shadow through my family estate, my heels silent on the marble floor. Margaret’s breakfast chatter floated from the dining hall, the sound of normalcy that was meant to lull me. But I was no longer her child to mold. I was no longer the naive woman who had bled for trust. I was danger incarnate, and every step I took reminded me that I was awake, aware, and armed with knowledge that could destroy everyone who had ever wronged me.

Blake would arrive soon. That name alone twisted my stomach. In my last life, hearing it had brought warmth. Now, it made my blood cold. He would not recognize the Rosette he had once destroyed. I had changed, yes—but he would soon understand the depth of my vengeance, even if it meant witnessing the ruin of everything he had built.

The first hint of him arrived in the form of the hum of his car outside, followed by the click of heels on the marble hall as Margaret announced his presence. “He is here,” she said, with that same calculated warmth that once hid so many knives.

I stepped into the hall, poised, composed, a perfect mask of elegance. My black dress clung in all the right places, not for love, not for seduction, but for control. I needed him to see me, to remember me—but to fear me more than he ever had.

Blake entered with a grin that had once made my heart betray me. He was the same. Everything about him—his dark, unruly hair, his tailored suit, his predatory gaze—was designed to dominate. But he would soon learn that the prey had become a predator.

“Rosette,” he said, stepping closer, his voice dripping charm. “You look… radiant.”

I smiled, a slow, deliberate curve of my lips. “Thank you, Blake. You look… ambitious, as always.”

His brow twitched slightly at the word. A small crack in the mask of the man who had thought he could own me.

As he leaned closer, I caught the faint scent that had once driven me to weakness—cologne, expensive, intoxicating. My hand twitched, not to touch, but to remind myself I was not his. I inhaled, steadying my heartbeat, feeding the venom of revenge that pulsed through me.

We sat to breakfast. Margaret fussed over both of us, the picture of a perfect family morning. But beneath the veneer, the tension was sharp enough to cut through steel. Every word Blake spoke was a test. Every gesture was calculated. And I matched him in every way, measuring, probing, smiling as though I were his compliant little Rosette—while inside, the fire of wrath consumed me.

“You’ve changed,” Blake finally said, his dark eyes sharp. “I can feel it. Different energy. More… assertive.”

I let a gentle laugh escape me, sweet and melodic, the sound of innocence he had once loved. “I suppose life has a way of teaching lessons we don’t always want to learn.”

He leaned back, studying me like a hunter appraising a prey it thinks it has trapped. “And yet,” he said, voice lower, more dangerous, “some things never change.”

I smiled again, sharper this time, letting the ice beneath the mask show for a heartbeat. “Some things, Blake… are meant to die.”

The words seemed to hang in the air, and I saw a flicker of something—uncertainty, irritation—in his eyes. He masked it quickly, but I had seen it. That was the first victory of the day, and it tasted sweeter than any revenge I had yet consumed.

Blake tried to steer the conversation to business, to trivialities, to reminders of the empire he believed he controlled. I played along, nodding, laughing lightly at the right moments. But every carefully chosen word was a thread I was pulling, unraveling his confidence without him noticing.

Then came the first subtle trap. “I was thinking about the Jenner estate,” I said, voice low, measured. “There are changes I would like to implement. You know, for efficiency, for security.”

His smile faltered. A microexpression, gone in a heartbeat, but I caught it. He leaned forward slightly. “Security? Are you implying something happened in my absence?”

I let my eyes glint with mock innocence. “Nothing. Just… precaution. You know me, always cautious.”

But the seed was planted. He would think. He would doubt. That doubt was the beginning of fear, and fear was a weapon I wielded now with precision.

The morning dragged on, each word a duel, each glance a challenge. I felt alive in a way that I had never been before. This was not just revenge. This was awakening. And the first player on the board—the man who had taken everything, was exactly where I wanted him.

After he left, I walked through the halls, each room echoing with memory. Every portrait, every artifact whispered of the past, of mistakes I had made, of trust misplaced. And I vowed silently, meticulously, that every stone I had once stumbled over would now become a weapon.

My eyes caught the faint shimmer of sunlight on the silver frames lining the hallway. I traced a finger over one, imagining Blake’s face contorted with confusion, frustration, and fear when he realized the woman he had destroyed was no longer the same.

Somewhere in the distance, I knew Cesare Llewellyn was moving, watching, calculating. In my last life, I had underestimated him. Not again. He would either be an ally, or another obstacle to annihilate.

But for now, the prey was mine to play with. And Blake, the man who had thought he could own me, would be the first to learn that the Rosette Jenner he had destroyed was dead.

In her place stood something stronger, sharper, and utterly relentless.

I would wear my mask perfectly. I would smile. I would pretend to be the obedient, pliable Rosette, but behind every word, every gesture, every glance, I would be carving the path of vengeance.

And the moment he realized, it would be too late.