The Vanity of Roses

by Lily White

  “That’s what Haley told me. Lisbeth is cold toward Isabelle, but not the rest.”

  Lisbeth Rose.

  A woman who, years ago, wouldn’t deign to speak to a servant was now friends with willing whores.

  Unable to believe it, I stared at Jacob while wondering if I’d misjudged her.

  As if following my thinking, he said, “She was friends with the cleaning staff, too. When will it be enough for you?”

  I didn’t answer, my mind still trying to make sense of what he’d said.

  Silence. Then Jacob broke it with a question that I’d never thought to ask myself.

  “Do you really want to break her?”

  “Why wouldn’t I?”

  Jacob smirked, only one corner of his mouth curling.

  “Because then she wouldn’t be as much fun. Tell me how many women have affected you like she does.” He laughed. “Hell, name one.”

  Only one name came to mind, and it belonged to a woman locked away for the time being, at least until I could decide what to do with her.

  His voice dragged me back. “That’s what I thought.”

  I sniffed at the judgment in his tone, a bead of sweat slipping along my neck to trail down farther over my chest.

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Liar.”

  Shaking his head, Jacob clapped his taped hands together, jumped a few times and rolled his shoulders.

  “You keep telling yourself whatever you need to. But the way I see it is you’re torturing yourself more than her at this point. Whatever you do, she finds a way to live with it. She makes friends. She endures. While you stew in whatever bullshit you’re refusing to let go. So, keep stewing if you want. Or, put yourself out of your misery and let it go.”

  He allowed the silence to linger, but then pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning.

  “As for me, I’m jumping in the shower, sneaking a woman upstairs for the night and letting go to the fact that I can’t get enough of her. While you, apparently, are going to continue being an idiot and resisting what we all know will happen.”

  His eyes met mine, sincerity shining behind them.

  “You loved her all your life. Hated her, too, but only because you loved her. She’s changed, Callan. So, I guess the only question left to ask is: Are you willing to change as well?”

  My pulse was a drum through my veins, hard and forceful. Everything about Lisbeth drove me to the brink. I could have continued arguing, but there was no point. Jacob wouldn’t believe anything I had to say. Most likely because he was right to tell me I was full of shit.

  Sighing, I stabbed a hand through my hair and tugged at the strands.

  “I’ll deal with her tonight.”

  “Thank fuck. You’ve been a moody bastard, and I’m sick of watching you stalk around the mansion just looking for a reason to fight.”

  I laughed, a soft bark of sound.

  “Do I ever need a reason?”

  Cocking a brow, Jacob nodded.

  “For that matter, do any of us?”

  Stepping away, he called over his shoulder.

  “I’m out. I recommend you go downstairs and finish this shit. Try not to hurt her too much.”

  Easier said than done.

  Lisbeth had her claws in me. She always had. And when she raked them across my skin, I bled violence that would rip her apart if I didn’t restrain it, would destroy her if I didn’t hold myself back.

  She was the only one.

  Her voice.

  Her scent.

  Her face.

  Her body.

  Everything calling to me while pushing me away at the same time.

  Avoiding her wasn’t ending a battle, it was only fanning the flames, the tension inside me building until all I knew was the need I had for her.

  But could she ever truly make up for what she’d done?

  Could she ever repair the damage caused by her lies?

  I didn’t like to think that rather than suffering her pride, it was mine I choked on now.

  Forgiveness is difficult when the ego refuses to bow down, and absolution is impossible when we’re chained to a refusal to accept sin.

  Are any of us ever truly blameless?

  Was there a single person who could claim they didn’t carry the fault of hurting another, whether it was on purpose or simply an unintended ripple of them fighting for whatever it was they wanted?

  In this fight, I was as responsible as her. And until I accepted that my continued hatred was only a mechanism of self-defeat, I could never win.

  I was a Rose in name only. Lisbeth has been right about that. But I certainly had their vanity.

  Which meant I wouldn’t submit. I wondered how well that would work when Lisbeth wasn’t the type to submit either.

  That only made Jacob more correct than I wanted him to be.

  It was Lisbeth’s fire that attracted me to her when I was young, and it was that same fire that held me enthralled even now.

  Call me a glutton for punishment, or maybe the truth was more sinister than that.

  Call Lisbeth the only woman I’d ever known who was strong enough to carry the burden of all the pain I could give her.

  Strength needs strength.

  If for no other reason than for the challenge it gave.

  I laughed to think about it.

  We would eventually destroy each other because of that challenge.

  But I suspected we would both fall into the embers of our own flames with matching smiles for having been held to the fire in the first place.

  Pushing to my feet, I took a shower in the gym, got dressed and decided to stall the inevitable for a little longer.

  With Jacob’s fight coming up, I wanted to give him permission to marry Haley. I needed to find Franklin to discuss the terms of the release of her contract.

  After wandering the mansion and not finding Franklin in his office or the family suites, I checked the dining room and a few other places. Eventually, I found Gretchen standing near the front doors, one hand playing with the charm of her necklace while the other peeled a set of curtains aside to look out front.

  Curious, I stepped up behind her.

  “What are we looking at?”

  She jumped in place, her hand releasing the curtain so quickly that I barely glimpsed the two people standing out front. One I could tell was Franklin, but the woman he spoke with had her back to me, silver dusted dark hair falling down the length of her back.

  “Mr. Rose,” Gretchen admonished. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  I gave her the same boyish grin I gave Ellen when I was caught doing something I shouldn’t. Unlike Ellen, Gretchen didn’t melt right away, so I took a step back when her glare slapped me harder than her hand ever could.

  “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  “Yes, you did. Don’t lie.”

  She clucked her tongue and shook her head. Her eyes met mine again, harder this time.

  “I’ve actually been looking for you, so I’m glad you found me.”

  Still curious about why she’d been spying on Franklin, I shot my gaze past her to the front door.

  “Can it wait? I need to speak with Franklin.”

  I stepped around her to go outside, but she grabbed my arm to tug me back. My body didn’t budge, not much, but I stilled in place to keep from dragging her forward.

  “No. I’d like to speak with you now.”

  Arrogance arched my brow. Regardless of how well I respected the employees in the mansion, I didn’t appreciate being kept from what I was doing.

  “This better be important.”

  Her eyes darted to the front door and back to me.

  “It’s about Lisbeth.”

  Squaring my shoulders, I bit my tongue to keep from telling her how Lisbeth was nobody’s business but mine. However, I respected Gretchen, and for that reason I’d entertain whatever it was she wanted to tell me.

  “What about her?”


  Gretchen stood primly before me. She was a respectable woman, strong in her own way. I knew her temper was sharp, and she wasn’t easy to push over. But in this, I hoped she wouldn’t overstep her position.

  She straightened the sleeves of her blouse, her lips pursing before she answered.

  “Will you ever bring her up from the lower floors? Lisbeth has done nothing to deserve-“

  I stepped toward her, my stare chasing off whatever it was she was about to say.

  “Are you questioning the way I run this house?”

  While many would back down immediately, Gretchen met my stare.

  “You care for her. As do many people in this house, including members of the housekeeping staff. And they all respect you as their employer. How do you think it will look to them? Everyone knows where she is, and everybody has seen the marks that appeared on her following the nights she spent as your personal servant. And while I know better than to question your authority, I’m also the woman you hired to ensure the staff work their asses off to keep this mansion going. As that woman, I’m telling you that people are frightened.”

  “Why should I give a fuck?” My voice was a deep growl, tension bleeding off me in waves of heat.

  “Because you are the type of man to give a fuck, Mr. Rose.”

  She bristled as if the curse word was beyond her comfortable level of decorum.

  “And I simply wanted to remind you.”

  I searched her face for signs of disrespect or deception. Not finding any, the truth of her words stabbed my chest.

  In my mission to teach Lisbeth a lesson, I was slowly becoming just as bad as the man who raised her, just as horrible as the one who’d scarred me for doing nothing more than attempting to speak to his daughter.

  Had I not already decided to deal with Lisbeth tonight, the reminder would have been a slap to the face.

  “I’m dealing with her tonight,” I said, turning away to go outside.

  “And what will you do with her?”

  Stopping again with my fingers gripping the doorknob, I twisted just enough to meet Gretchen’s stare.

  “Whatever I damn well please.”

  Her eyes flicked to the window, gaze staring out between the small crack in the curtains.

  Nodding her head, she returned her stare to me.

  “Fine. I just wanted to remind you why this house runs as efficiently as it does.”

  Brows tugging together, the thought occurred to me that Gretchen was stalling me for another reason. Rather than asking, I stormed out the door instead, just in time to see a car pull away as Franklin turned to look at me.

  “Callan. I thought you were in the gym with Jacob.”

  Striding toward him, I stared over his shoulder at the retreating taillights as the car turned a bend.

  “Who was that?”

  He turned to follow my line of sight, his face the usual blank mask.

  Returning his attention to me, he waved the car off.

  “That was Natalia Hilliard. One of the grocery reps who manages our supplies. She came to settle a payment discrepancy.”

  Staring at him, I wasn’t sure why I didn’t believe what he had to say. But rather than confronting it, I decided to deal with what I’d come to discuss.

  “I want to let Haley out of her contract for Jacob’s fight.”

  Franklin’s eyes rounded.

  “That’s in two days, and she has another year left in our agreement.”

  “She’s his, Franklin. We’ll never use her for another fighter. And if she wishes, she can still play the part of slave on the nights he’s in the ring.”

  Opening his mouth to argue, Franklin pinned my stare with his, but something stopped him from saying the first word.

  “He’s my brother in every way but blood,” I reminded him. “That has to count for something.”

  Silence fell between us for several seconds, but eventually Franklin nodded his head.

  “Fine. I’ll speak with Colton, and we’ll arrange the terms of her release.”

  The tension bled from my shoulders. I’d expected more of a fight. “Do it without Jacob knowing. It’ll be a surprise.”

  Another nod.

  Conversation finished, I turned to deal with another problem.

  “Where are you going?”

  My steps paused as I glanced back at him. “To the lower levels to deal with another woman and the terms of her release.”

  Shock constricted Franklin’s expression.

  “You plan to let Lisbeth go? Even after she attempted to run away?”

  “No,” I answered honestly, both to him and myself. Jacob was right. It was time I faced what I wanted from this.

  “I plan to show her why she was stupid for ever wanting to run away in the first place.”

  His lips pulled into a thin line.

  “And how do you plan on doing that?”

  I laughed. “Have I ever asked you about your sex life, Franklin?”

  He shook his head.

  “No.”

  “Then I suggest you don’t ask about mine.”

  Lisbeth

  It wasn’t surprising when Callan dragged me down to the lower levels.

  We’d stood in that maze for what felt like hours. Really it had been only minutes, I’m sure, the tense silence stretching out until it was thick enough to choke us both.

  We were in the past and present at the same time, a place that bridged the gap between youth and maturity, between a moment where I’d once been powerful and a moment where all the power belonged to him.

  It was full circle in a sense, the beginning and end, and yet nothing had come of it except for the silent walk we’d taken here.

  I didn’t fight against him. Didn’t give him the satisfaction of escorting me down again over his shoulder. I didn’t give him tears, and I didn’t beg. I gave him nothing but a quiet acceptance of my fate.

  Callan had opened the door to the dungeon with the expectation that I’d see the women strapped to devices, their skin exposed with marks, and that I’d break down at his feet. There was disappointment in his expression when he closed the door to the room I was shoved in, and all I gave him was my silent stare.

  It was all he deserved at that moment.

  And here I’ve sat ever since.

  The first day was grueling. I didn’t know what to expect. Would I be strapped up like the others? Would the man who worked down here be given free rein to hurt me and take joy in my pain? I didn’t know, and for that reason, my stomach was a twisted knot.

  I refused to eat. Refused to do anything until Colton came to my room to introduce himself, explain the rules and the punishments for not following them. I ate something then, barely able to chew or swallow, but not so stupid as to refuse.

  After eating, I was escorted to a large bathroom where I could bathe and take care of other things, but then I was returned to my room where I could do nothing but wait.

  And wait, I did.

  Each hour that passed, I waited for one man to walk through the door.

  A dark force in a gilded mansion.

  A shadow of memory that linked me to the past.

  The silence in that room was a nightmare on its own because it let me think. I didn’t like the turn of my thoughts, the paths my thoughts chose to wander.

  All paths led to Callan eventually. And it took a full day for me to realize that, although I’d attempted to run, the effort had been for my ego more than my heart.

  In the end, I was glad he’d caught me. I found solace in the realization that he would never let me go.

  Had I been testing myself or him by trying to escape? I wasn’t sure. But his effort at keeping me trapped spoke of more than his dominant nature.

  It was a whisper in my head that my value to Callan was more than even he could admit.

  So, I waited.

  And waited.

  My body sat straighter at the sound of heavy footsteps outside my door, my pulse pounding in my throat e
ach time the door opened, my heart dropping into my feet with the weight of my disappointment when it wasn’t Callan who stepped through.

  That was the first day.

  By the second, a few intrepid eyes peeked in, curiosity eventually pushing the door open, and a pretty redhead snuck past my gatekeeper to flash me a wicked smile as she crossed my room to sit on my bed.

  “You must be Lisbeth,” she’d said, authenticity glimmering behind brown eyes.

  The woman told me her name was Haley, and I took an instant liking to her. She was short and curvy with pixie features that drew the eye. Ten minutes into our first conversation and I’d forgotten her job in the mansion. I learned that it didn’t matter what a person chose to do to survive.

  By the end of day two, we were friends, more of the women on the lower levels coming in to introduce themselves as well.

  In truth, the only one I didn’t like was Isabelle, only because she stared at me with a chill behind her eyes. I’d wondered if her part in my escape attempt had been her idea or Callan’s. I never asked her. It didn’t matter. But I still didn’t trust her for shit.

  By the third day, I found that I wasn’t alone anymore. My breakfast, lunch and dinner were brought to me by a new group of friends, the women so comfortable in their roles in the mansion that it didn’t feel like an odd choice to me anymore. Not that I would choose the same, but I didn’t question their decision.

  In a way, I admired them.

  Yes, they’d chosen a path that I didn’t understand, but after learning what they stood to gain, I was slightly jealous.

  Three years as a sexual slave. That was their contract lengths, but what they stood to gain from it was impressive.

  From what Haley explained, the women earned money during their tenure, most of it saved since they were given free room and board, their meals were paid for, and everything else they may need was provided.

  Once the contract was up, they were given the choice of taking on another three years, or walking away with not only what they’d already earned, but a significant financial bonus with which they could start a life of their own.

  In many ways, I had more chains on me than these women who were considered slaves. My freedom had never been guaranteed in my youth, and as I learned from my mother, it wasn’t promised in my introduction to adult life either.