The Gentleman's Mask

The night was cool peaceful as Seth Robinson escorted Arla-Rosa back to her dormitory. Under the glow of the street lights, she looked almost ethereal in her new gown, the diamond on her finger catching every flicker of light.

Seth smiled, that well-practiced, reassuring smile, and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. Arla-Rosa blushed, lowering her gaze shyly. "Thank you for tonight, Seth," she murmured, in a barely audible voice that carried a soft lilt in the darkness. Seth took her hand and kissed the back of it tenderly. "Anything for you, my rose."

She smiled, that trusting, guileless smile he both adored and despised and slipped through the dormitory gates. Seth watched her disappear inside before his facade crumbled like sand.

Without a backward glance, he turned and strode to his car, yanking the door open with more force than necessary. His fists clenched the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles whitened.

Damn her! Even after a ring and a fairy-tale evening, she still clung to her ridiculous notions of virtue. "Saving herself for marriage," he muttered under his breath, his lip curling in disgust. "What century is she living in?" Suppressing his irritation, he jammed the key into the ignition and drifted away from the curb, speeding through the night towards Aretha’s apartment.

The door swung open before he could even knock. Aretha stood there, barefoot, her hair loose, wearing nothing but one of Seth’s old shirts. Her lips curved into a knowing smile. "Rough night?" she drawled, stepping aside to let him in.

Seth didn’t answer. He grabbed her by the waist, his mouth crashing down onto hers.

For a while, words were unnecessary, they tangled together in a frenzy, anger and frustration fueling every touch. It wasn't about love. It was about dominance, release, and ownership. When at last they sprawled across her leather couch, breathless and spent, the mask of passion fell away, replaced by cold calculation.

Aretha propped herself up on one elbow, eyeing Seth with a lazy sort of shrewdness. "You realize she’s not as stupid as she looks," she said, running a hand through his hair. "If you push too hard, she'll slip through your fingers." "I proposed," Seth muttered. "The idiot is halfway in love with me already."

"Halfway isn’t enough." Aretha’s eyes glittered. "She’s a goldmine. We can’t afford mistakes now." Seth leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He knew she was right. Without Arla-Rosa, he was nothing but a glorified clerk, outmatched and outclassed by his brothers. But with her? He would inherit it all.

"We need to invest in her," Aretha said decisively. "Pamper her. Give her a taste of the life she thinks she’s getting with you." Seth cracked one eye open. "Meaning?" "Meaning you get her a nice apartment. Somewhere safe, close to campus. No more cramped dormitories. Buy her a cheap little car, teach her to drive. Let her think you're building a future together."

Seth chuckled darkly. "She'll swoon." Aretha grinned, wicked and beautiful. "Exactly. Play the doting fiance. Earn her trust. Once your name is signed beside hers on every dotted line, we won't need to keep pretending." Seth reached for the whiskey on the table, swirling it thoughtfully. "You’re ruthless."

"You love it," Aretha said smugly, tracing a finger down his bare chest. "Besides, it's not like we're lying to her. Not really. You’ll give her a ring. A house, maybe even a couple of brats running around one day." He laughed. "Charming."

Aretha’s expression hardened slightly. "Just remember, love, she's the golden goose. Don't let her out of the pen." Seth nodded, a sharp gleam entering his eyes. He would secure Arla-Rosa so tightly that she'd never think of leaving. She would be his perfect, obedient rose.

By noon the next day, Seth had already set everything into motion. The apartment, a modest but charming one-bedroom unit, just a stone’s throw from campus, was leased under Arla-Rosa’s name. He arranged for basic furnishings: a cozy bed, a plush sofa, a delicate dining table with floral engravings.

The kind of place a young woman would find enchanting. As well as a mini study with a single chair and desk. Next came the car. Not flashy, that would only draw suspicion. A sweet little hatchback in pastel blue, spotless and reliable.

At lunchtime, he showed up at Arla-Rosa’s dormitory unannounced, holding a small bouquet of lilies and that same boyish grin that had melted her resolve before. "Hey, beautiful," he greeted, handing her the flowers. Arla-Rosa's cheeks pinked. "Seth! You didn’t have to..."

"I wanted to." He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, marveling again at how easy she was to manipulate. "I was thinking... it's not very romantic for my fiancee to be living in a cramped dorm, is it?" Her eyes widened slightly. "I.. I don't mind, really."

"But I do," he interrupted smoothly. "You deserve better." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out two envelopes. "The first," he said, handing one over, "is the lease for your new apartment. It's fully paid for the next year. You can move in whenever you want."

Arla-Rosa blinked at him, clearly overwhelmed. "And the second," he added, handing her the second envelope, "is your very own car. Well... the keys are in there. And a little note from me." She opened it with trembling fingers. The shiny set of car keys fell into her palm along with a small card that read: "For the future we’ll build together. Love, Seth."

Tears pricked Arla-Rosa's eyes. She struggled to find her voice. "I... I don't even know what to say," she whispered. "Say you love me," Seth teased gently, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I do," she said fervently, throwing her arms around his neck. "I love you so much, Seth."

He closed his eyes briefly, hiding the flicker of triumph that burned within him.

Everything was falling into place. Arla-Rosa, for all her brilliance, was still the lonely girl who wanted to be loved. And he, who was ruthless, calculating, patient, would be the one to give her exactly what she thought she needed. Until it was far too late.