Banter

Rose POV

The first thing that hit me when I opened my eyes was the smell of food… warm, rich, comforting. For a moment, I didn’t know where I was. The soft sheets, the quiet hum of the air conditioner, the faint scent of expensive cologne… none of it felt familiar.

Then the memories came rushing back… the attack, the panic, the pain, Luther’s arms around me, the sound of his voice telling me I was safe.

Safe. That word sounded foreign to me.

I turned my head and saw a tray on the nightstand. Bread, omelette, orange juice… simple, but neatly arranged. I didn’t wait to think; I was starving. The first bite melted in my mouth, and before I knew it, I’d eaten half the plate. For the first time since yesterday, I felt a small sliver of calm.

Still, the silence of the room pressed on me. Everything here screamed luxury… the velvet curtains, the gold-trimmed mirror, the faint sparkle of marble floors that peeked from under the rug. Luther’s house. I had never imagined I’d be inside his world like this.

After eating, I went into the bathroom. Even that looked like something from a magazine. I stood under the shower for a long time, letting the warm water wash away the memories of last night. When I came out, a soft silk outfit was neatly folded on the bed. I hesitated… who had left it there? Maybe one of Luther’s staff. Either way, I didn’t have many choices.

Once dressed, I stepped out into the hallway. The house was even more beautiful than it looked from inside the room. Everything was spotless… silver chandeliers glimmered above my head, and the faint smell of cologne mixed with wood polish filled the air.

I was still staring at the wide staircase when a familiar voice echoed behind me.

“Miss Rose.”

I turned quickly. It was Marco, Luther’s right-hand man. His dark suit fit perfectly, and his usual serious expression softened a little when he saw me.

“Marco,” I said with relief. “I was just… looking around.”

He nodded politely. “You’re free to. This is a safe place.”

“I figured that much,” I said, glancing around again. “Where’s Luther?”

“He had some business to attend to this morning,” Marco replied. “He should be back soon.”

I nodded, trying not to show the slight disappointment that crept into me. “Oh… okay.”

“If you need anything, let the staff know,” Marco said before walking off down the hall.

I watched him leave, then wandered toward the main living area. Every corner looked like a piece of art. Luther wasn’t just powerful; he had taste

.

I stopped by a large glass window that overlooked the gardens. For a second, I almost smiled. The morning sun lit up the green leaves, making them shimmer. I hadn’t felt this kind of peace in a long time.

But the peace didn’t last.

The sound of sharp heels clicking against the floor snapped me out of my thoughts. It was steady, deliberate, and coming closer. I turned… and froze.

Marylin.

Her long red dress hugged her like it was made just for her, and her dark hair fell in perfect waves over her shoulders. The smirk on her lips told me she’d seen me long before I saw her.

“Well, well…” she said slowly, stopping a few feet away. “Look what we have here.”

I didn’t answer. My stomach tightened. Of all the people I didn’t want to see, she topped the list.

She tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with mock curiosity. “You know you’re not supposed to be here, right?”

I said nothing. My fingers curled at my sides. I didn’t owe her an explanation.

When I didn’t respond, her smirk widened. “Won’t you answer me, you low life?”

That snapped something in me. I lifted my chin. “I don’t have time for your nonsense.”

I turned to walk away, but her voice sharpened. “Don’t you dare walk out on me!”

Before I could take another step, she caught my wrist. Her grip was firm, her nails digging in just enough to make me stop.

I spun around and glared at her. “Let go, Marylin.”

She smiled sweetly. “Oh, I hit a nerve? You think you can just stroll into Luther’s house and act like you belong here?”

“I didn’t stroll in,” I said, pulling my hand free. “He brought me here.”

Her smile faltered for half a second. “Brought you here?”

“Yes,” I said evenly. “After I was attacked last night. He saved me.”

Marylin blinked, then let out a small, sarcastic laugh. “Of course he did. Luther always had a weakness for lost little girls, didn’t he?”

My blood boiled. “You can insult me all you want, but it won’t change the fact that I’m here.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You think staying here means anything? Don’t get comfortable. You’re nothing but a passing distraction.”

I crossed my arms. “Funny… you sound scared.”

“Scared?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disdain. “Of you?”

“People don’t attack what they’re not threatened by.”

Her smile disappeared entirely. The air between us grew thick, charged with something darker than hate. She took a step closer, her perfume filling the space.

“Listen carefully, Rose…” she said quietly, her tone low and dangerous. “Whatever fantasy you’re building in your head, drop it. Luther and I… we go way back. You’re a mistake. One he’ll regret.”

I stared at her, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. “If that’s true, you wouldn’t be here trying to convince me.”

For a moment, she said nothing. Then her hand shot up, her finger pointing dangerously close to my face. “Watch your mouth.”

I didn’t flinch. “Then stop talking to me like I’m beneath you.”

Her eyes flashed with fury. “You don’t belong in his world. You’re not one of us.”

“I didn’t ask to be,” I shot back.

The silence that followed was deafening. She was breathing hard now, her chest rising and falling. I could see the anger in her eyes… but there was something else too. Fear.

She took another step forward, voice dropping to a whisper. “You think you’re special because he saved you? You’re nothing but a charity case, Rose.”

I clenched my jaw. “Then why do you sound jealous?”

Her lips parted slightly, shock flashing across her face. It lasted only a second before her expression hardened again. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

“I’m starting to,” I replied.

Her hand twitched at her side, and for a second, I thought she might actually slap me. But before she could say another word, a voice cut through the tension.

“What’s going on here?”

Both of us turned sharply toward the doorway.

Luther stood there, tall and composed, though the look in his eyes was anything but calm. His gaze moved from me to Marylin, and the air in the room shifted immediately.

His voice was low, steady, and carried that tone that made even the toughest men hesitate.

“Marylin…” he said slowly, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here?”