Page 118 of My Rose

“Happy is the man who has broken the chains which hurt the mind and has given up worrying once and for all." ? Ovid

Footsteps echoed like stones being thrown into glass—heavy, like my racing heart.

I leaned back in the armchair, an ominous yellow light beside me on the small table Rose and I almost broke that first nightin our house. The first of many, and after tonight, they’d all be just as peaceful as they should have been from the start.

“Look at what you’ve done to the place.” My father’s voice sounded from the door, full of disgust. He strode deliberately to the entryway table, where Rose had put the picture of us from when we were kids. His fingers whitened as he held the frame. “You’ve really fucked up this time, Briggs.”

I unbuttoned the top button of my perfectly ironed white shirt, loosening my collar as I sighed. “I know.”

His brow angled as he set the frame back down. “Where is she?”

I shrugged and raised the flask from the table. “I don’t know. Probably out spending my money or spreading her legs.” I downed long pulls of the whiskey as my father took a seat on the couch in front of me.

His tongue clicked. “Should’ve let me end it all on the rooftop. I don’t know what you were thinking, but I’m glad to see you’ve finally come to your senses.” I nodded, trying to hide the tick of my jaw by scrubbing a hand down my face. “Does that mean you don’t know when she will be back?”

His eagerness to see Rose was twisting my gut, but I shook my head, playing the role I needed to. I took my phone out and tossed it to him. “Her location is there. Bitch is tracked.”

A sly grin spread over his face as he tapped his fingers on the screen, still staring at me. “I’m proud of you, son.” That was the first time he’d ever said those words to me, yet it did not affect the rage simmering within me.

I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “She was at least a good fuck. Too bad she won’t be around much longer.”

Rose was going to fucking kill me for that line. She was afabulousfuck. The best lay of my entire life. I couldn’t wait to remind her of that very fact once this was all over.

“Clarissa is still a viable option.” He tossed my phone on the coffee table between us. “Dean would be thrilled to have you tame his insubordinate daughter. It would be good for both of you. Good for the company.”

“Right.” I swallowed past the bile that sentiment forced into my throat. “Speaking of the company”—I leaned back, my knees hitting either side of the chair—“I’ve been thinking about VanLuxe and the revenue we’re missing out on.”

His brows shot up toward the ceiling. “Go on.”

“The girls,” I started, my fingers splaying over the armrests. “They should be monetized more…effectively.”

The side of his mouth twisted up. “They already are.”

I tilted my head, matching his smirk with my own. “How many are we exporting a year?” I shot for casual, though every nerve in my body was firing off.

“I’d be happy to share those numbers with you, assuming you’re ready to step into the role you’ve been raised for and leave this”—he swirled a finger, gesturing to the entire house and the life I’d made here—“all behind.”

“She was a mistake. One I won’t be making twice,” I growled low.

“Excellent.” He checked the time on his watch, then glanced between my phone that still sat on the table and me. “Since you’re finished, I don’t think you’d mind sharing before we end her?”

If it weren’t for all the times I’d been put in a chair that first year and wrung dry of every emotion I had to give, I would have wrung his neck right then and there. “Have at it.” My teeth ground together uncomfortably, and I took a heavy swig from the flask to cover that, too, before reaching for the phone.

The wickedness spread along Ben’s face at the prospect of him taking what was mine. “You’ve impressed me, Briggs. Truly.” He adjusted his suit jacket and took up a more relaxed position on the couch. “Now then. Why don’t you explain to me how our estate burned down.”

I pursed my lips and exhaled sharply. “It was time to end that chapter.” That was the first honest thing that I’d said to him since he walked in. I squared my shoulders back, knowing with absolute clarity thatchapter—the one where my life had never been mine—was about to end.

“Ruthless. The way you should have been from the start.” The way my brother had been. I’d had every intention of asking if Beck knew about what was going on—to make him out to be a villain like the man before me. But that was the past, and he was gone.

My eyes fell to the photo of Rose and me as glimpses of my future stirred my thoughts. My father noticed before I could glance away. “It was foolish of me to think she’d fit in with the life I planned to lead.”

“Women have a way of swaying our minds in the worst way.” He reached for the decanter on the coffee table and poured himself a glass. “Part of why selling them once they are done being useful is so”—he took a sip from his glass—“fulfilling.”

Fucking disgusting.But this is what I needed him to confess.

“I can see that. Is that what made you start with VanLuxe? When she left us? Or is thatwhyshe left us—because of the club?”

He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes darkening to that shade they always did right before he’d pummel into me. “Us?”

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