The Destruction of Rose: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 1)

by Rachel M Raithby

  Ignoring her, I ask a question I need the answer too, just to be sure I have the facts right. “It was Grayson Bishop’s uncle Dad went into business with when I was a baby, wasn’t it?”

  “What? How…?”

  “This is for my uncle. That’s what Grayson whispered in my ear as he held me still.”

  “I— They—” She splutters, her rage fizzling out.

  “Seems I’m still paying for my father’s sins,” I mutter, laughing darkly. “And now, Grayson will pay for his.”

  Meeting my mother’s gaze, I smile wickedly, handing over my phone as the footage plays.

  Her breath catches, eyes going wide. “Rose… this… He could…. She’s a…”

  “Oh, I know. This goes way beyond high school drama and right to newspaper-worthy scandal.” I laugh, the sound so far from the Rose I know. It’s empty and cruel, as if the Albany elite have wiped out any good in me. “It’s time the Upper East Side learns we’re back for good.”

  Taking my phone back, I settle deeper into my seat, a twisted sense of satisfaction filling me as I conjure up all the ways I could release this footage to the world. It needs to be done with care, at the right moment… when it’s impossible for Arthur Bishop to pay his way out of it.

  It’ll tear Ash’s family apart, hurt his mother and brother, but any sense of loyalty and love I felt for Ash died the moment he tipped glue over my head.

  They wanted to break me, and they did. And now they’ll have to deal with the twisted, broken monster they’ve left in my wake of their destruction.

  Chapter 23

  There was no saving my hair. The hottest bath in the world wasn’t going to wash out the hardened pieces of glue. Climbing out of the bath and wrapping myself up in a fluffy robe, I exit my room to find a hairdresser seated in our kitchen.

  “Sit, sit,” the man instructs. “I’ll make you fabulous again. I’m Dean.”

  Smiling weakly, I walk forward as my mother places a cup of tea next to the chair the hairdresser has set up.

  “A nice cuppa to make you feel better.” She smiles, sounding the slightest bit British. “Are you hungry?”

  I am, but I can’t stomach food. I’m oddly hollow, numb, but raw at the same time. What I really want is to close my eyes and not wake up for a very long time.

  “Well, I have good news and bad,” Dean answers.

  “I’m past caring,” I mutter.

  “Well, we can’t salvage the length, unless you come in for extensions, but the good news is you can totally pull off short hair.”

  “Chop away,” I answer.

  It’s past midnight when he’s finished, and I try not to look at the many locks of dark brown hair littering the tiles as he turns and holds up a mirror.

  “Fabulous, darling,” he beams.

  My long soft curls are gone. In its place is an edgy, inverted bob. The angle from back to front is dramatic. He’s styled it messy, with choppy layers framing my face. I don’t look like me. The preppy, good girl is gone. A pair of horns would be more natural upon my head than a crown.

  I smile, taking myself in. I look as dark and as wicked as I feel. Sophia’s not going to know what hit her.

  ***

  "I’m going to need a note about my uniform,” I say, exiting my bedroom Monday morning.

  She doesn’t look up from her phone as my mother answers, “It’s clean and hung in your wardrobe, Rose.”

  “And that’s where it’ staying,” I answer as I collect a travel mug from the cupboard to make a coffee.

  She must finally look up because I hear her intake of breath before she replies, “You’re not wearing that to school, Rose.”

  Smiling, I face her, running a hand down the skintight dress I’ve put on. “It matches my new style, don’t you think?”

  “If you’re going for high-end hooker, sure,” she sasses, scanning me criticality.

  “Hmm. I was thinking evil queen, but whatever, hooker will do.”

  “Rose, what are you up too?” she asks, as if she doesn’t want the answer.

  “I’m doing what you wanted,” I answer, not paying her any attention as I finish my drink and grab some breakfast. “I have the dirt, and now I’m going to use it.”

  “Rose, Arthur Bishop is a powerful man. You’ll need to play this very carefully.”

  “I’m not stupid. And Arthur Bishop will feel the pain of this when the time’s right, but first I’m going to make Sophia and her little minions squirm. She’s going to smile and grovel, all the while knowing I could destroy her.”

  “And this requires you to dress like that?” She shakes her head, not in the least amused.

  “Write me the note, or not. Either way, everyone is going to notice me when I enter school. Making it all the sweeter when Sophia welcomes me with open arms.”

  “I’m not sure if I should be worried or proud.”

  I grin wickedly. “So the note, Mother?”

  Leaving the apartment, coffee in one hand, half an eaten bagel in the other, and a note excusing my attire tucked safely in my bag, I ride the elevator down and hop into the waiting car.

  I run my plan over in my head as we drive, imagining the look on Sophia’s face when she sees me. There’s a wicked sense of anticipation running through my veins. I’m going to take delight in making Sophia beg. She’ll want to keep it between us I’m sure, which will make it even better when Grayson and Ashton must toe the line without really knowing why. I’m going to create rifts a mile wide within their circle, fracture them from within, and when they’ve finally paid for what they’ve done to me, I’m going to destroy Arthur Bishop too.

  There would have been a time when his connection to Ash would have given me pause. I’d have worried about causing his mother pain when she learns her new husband is having an affair with a minor, but after Ash stood by while Grayson and Sophia ruined me, after he joined in with their ridicule… I feel nothing but hatred for him. Ash deserves to suffer like the rest of them. Whatever we once were died the moment glue hit my head, the moment he turned his back on the boy I once loved.

  Sauntering into school, all heads turn to me, a chorus of whispers following. A smile plays on my lips, somewhere between playful and sinful, and as I pass Kurt and Andrew, I wink as they do a double-take. Their gazes fill with panic as I stride past and toward the courtyard where I’ll find Sophia and the rest of the royals.

  There’s a small crowd following me. Tension and excitement crackle in the air around us as I turn the corner, and I prowl through the double doors and into the sunlight courtyard. A lioness about to devour her prey.

  Ashton notices me first, confusion, guilt, then hurt crossing over his face. My smile hardens, the emotions inside me burning cold. I despise him. I hate, after all he’s done, that my stupid heart kicks back to life at the sight of him, as if he is the answer to all the darkness now circling through my veins.

  My direction changes, my feet carrying me toward Ashton. His eyes widen, and I don’t know why I do it. I never planned to. Reaching out, I grasp his shirt, pulling him flush against me and claim his lips. He melts, opening himself to my demands as I dip my tongue into his mouth. I want him to remember me one last time. To regret destroying what was between us. To feel and taste me on his lips and hate himself as much as I do him. I hope it hurts him. I hope he knows the girl kissing him isn’t anything like the one he knew, and it’s his fault. He was the final nail in the coffin, which sent me spiraling over the edge. I want him to burn up with regret. Just as I am doing with contempt.

  Releasing him, I shove Ashton backward and turn my sights onto Sophia. Her eyes are damn near popping out her head, and the screech that leaves her throat has me laughing.

  “What’s the matter, Sophia? Weren’t you expecting me to surface again?”

  Grayson steps beside her, face unreadable. I can’t decide if he’s shocked or in awe. “Get rid of her, Gray,” she snaps, waving a hand at me. “And you!” Her hostile gaze finds Ash. “Kiss her a
gain, and I’ll have you sent back to Brooklyn faster than you can draw breath.”

  I smile, glancing back at a stunned Ash. “Tut, tut. Doesn’t she know what you’ve been doing with me all this time, Ashton?”

  “Grayson!” Sophia hisses.

  Stepping toward me, Grayson grasps my shoulders, but instead of resisting, I press up against him, stroking a hand over his chest. “Tell me, Gray, are you are bad as your father?” I whisper. He falters, pulling back to read my face. My lips lift higher, my brows rising. “I bet you’re even naughtier.” I giggle.

  “What the fuck is your game?” Grayson asks, releasing me with a shake of his head. I’ve startled the devil himself; I must have strayed far from the path of good.

  “Fine, if you won’t throw out the trash, then I will,” Sophia growls, lurching herself toward me.

  Dancing out of her reach, I bring my phone up between us as she rushes forward again. The expression on her face is on the edge of deranged, the sounds out of her mouth, animalistic. She’s slipping, falling over the edge, and revealing the person locked within.

  “I’ll happily leave, Sophia,” I murmur as we circle each other. “But first I have some footage I think you might like.”

  “I couldn’t care less what you’ve got to show me,” she snaps. “I want you gone.”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” I wag my finger at her. “That’s no way to speak to your new bestie.”

  She laughs bitterly. “Did the glue damage your brain?”

  “No, but it did help me see clearly. You see, I’ve been walking around remembering the girl I was when I was last here, seeing the people she saw through her naïve eyes, and your little stunt reminded me of the person I need to be. So, thank you for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” Sophia laughs. “Now, get out of my courtyard.”

  Tapping my phone, I bring up the incriminating evidence. “I think you’re going to have a change of heart after this.”

  Grayson steps forward. “Just show us already. Enough of this show.”

  I eye Sophia. “Are you sure you’d like your secrets played for all?”

  And there it is, the look I’ve been dreaming of. The moment her crown tumbles from her head and she realizes she’s not as invincible as she thought. Fear worms its way into her pretty caramel eyes as she leaps forward, stopping Grayson in his tracks.

  “Let me.”

  Sideling up beside her, I press Play, watching as her entire body stills. “Got ya,” I whisper gleefully.

  “What do you want?” she demands quietly, dragging me out of the way as she studies the crowd around us.

  “I haven’t quite decided yet,” I muse, tapping my lip. “But a friend will be a good start. Don’t you think?”

  “That’s it. You just want in?” she asks carefully. “You don’t want Ashton?”

  Slipping my arm around her shoulder, I pull her close and turn us to face Ashton. “I did,” I answer, loud enough he’ll hear. “But then I realized the Ash I wanted wasn’t there anymore. You can keep him. He’s damaged goods.”

  For a second, Ashton’s responding sorrow causes me to regret my words. I itch to reach for him, to turn back the clock, but he ruined any chances of that when he joined in with the royals instead of helping me. I don’t care if he is broken; it’s no excuse to break me.

  The bell rings, cutting through our little discussion and the crowd around us groans, as if disappointed our confrontation didn’t turn into a catfight.

  “Shall we?” I ask, holding out my arm for Sophia.

  Glaring at my arm, she visibly forces her rage under control and plasters a smile onto her face. “How lucky we have English together. Let’s sit next to each other.”

  “I can’t wait,” I reply, throwing a smirk over my shoulder as Grayson and Ashton fall into step behind us.

  The crowd parts as we walk, openly staring and gossiping. Sophia is rigid beside me, heat sprayed red across her cheeks. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t demanded her crown. By siding with me, she’s sealed her own downfall, and the entire school knows it.

  Chapter 24

  English goes by with tension thick in the air. I ignore it all, wickedly happy at the outcome of today’s events. Grayson throws daggers at me. The weight of his stare would have normally affected me, but something broke in me on the night of the gala, something fundamental. I flit through the morning almost detached from the events I’ve conspired. My pleasure and satisfaction short-lived. An “in the moment” thrill that quickly dies, and as much as I want to torment them as they’ve done me, I’m not stupid enough to believe it will fill the void inside me. A hole which began to form years ago, growing raw at my father’s betrayal and bleeding further as I took hit after hit, until I have no hope of healing or being whole again.

  There was a time I’d thought Ash was the solution. He’d be my light in the dark reality of my life, but when I look at him now, I see his face as he poured glue over my head. I hear my unanswered plea for help and any affection I once felt, shrivels and dies along with the hopes of the Rose I once was.

  “Go on ahead,” I instruct Sophia. “I’m just going to the ladies first.”

  Sophia looks as relieved as I feel. I play a good game, wear my mask with ease, but it’s exhausting. My face hurts from forcing a smile, and as I enter the toilets, it falls, my shoulders sagging.

  “Rose,” Isla gasps, stepping out of a stall. “How did you do it?”

  Narrowing my gaze, I look her up and down as if she’s no more than a bug. “That information isn’t something you’re privy to anymore.”

  “I… I’m sorry, okay. You know what it’s like at this school.”

  “I do, and you should have had more faith; instead, you threw me to the wolves,” I spit, towering over her.

  “Rose, please,” she whimpers. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you have any idea what they were going to do with me?” I hiss, fists clenched.

  Isla shakes her head.

  “Well, I wasn’t interested in having my haircut.”

  “It looks nice,” she mumbles, tears in her eyes.

  “Of course it does. My mother paid a small fortune to make sure it did. Now get out of this toilet. You’re no longer welcome in the same space as me.”

  She scurries away, leaving me alone with nothing but my bitter reflection and the emptiness consuming me. Taking longer than I intended, the minutes tick by as I try to find the strength to pretend I’m all right. Heading for the courtyard where the royals eat lunch, I find Sophia and Grayson arguing in the empty corridor outside.

  “Well, what’s going on here?” I coo, joining them. “Lovers quarrel? Oh no, wait, wrong guy.” I giggle.

  Sophia glares. I eye her warningly. “Careful, Sophia, your mask is slipping, and I’m sure Grayson wouldn’t be too pleased with what I have to show him.”

  “Leave it, Gray, please,” Sophia begs. “Just trust me, okay.”

  “Yeah, come on, Gray.” I slid my arm into his, smiling. “Trust her.”

  “I’m going to find out eventually, Sophia,” Grayson hisses over his shoulder as he walks away with me.

  I pat his arm. “I’m really looking forward to the moment you do.” But until then, I’m going to enjoy every second as Sophia desperately tries to keep her sins concealed. I’ll toy with Grayson, make him think this is all about Sophia and then laugh as he watches his family fall apart.

  He studies me, gaze heating. “I must say, I find this new side of yours rather attractive.”

  We enter the courtyard, all eyes falling on us, and I smile. “Our black hearts match.”

  Ashton sits at our table, the royals’ loyal followers with him, but he’s the only one who looks pained from seeing Grayson and I enter together, and I decide playing with Grayson will be the best kind of torment for Ashton. The rest of the sheep look like they are about to combust with curiosity, not that any of them dare voice their questions. Sheep are nothing if but loyal.

  “This isn�
�t you, Rose,” Ashton says as we approach.

  “You’d have to know who I was to comment on that, Ashton,” I reply sweetly.

  “Jealous, Ashton?” Grayson inquires, smirking. “I did offer to share her at the gala, but you declined.”

  It should bother me Grayson’s so easily turning on his stepbrother, but it doesn’t. I’m not sure anything can anymore. Instead, I play along; if I’m going to hell, I might as well enjoy myself on the way there. As much as I can’t stand Grayson Bishop and all he stands for, at least the guy is honest about who he is. There is no mask upon his face. He’s a dark prince through and through, and it’s why the people love him.

  “I think I prefer your undivided attention anyway, Grayson,” I murmur softly. “My tastes are a little darker these days.”

  “Well.” Grayson smiles, all wicked charm, his hand sliding down my back and cupping my arse. “You’ve come to the right place.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, if you’re going to fuck her, Gray, do it in private, I’m trying to eat,” Sophia snaps.

  Chuckling, Grayson releases me. “Chill, Sophia, we’re just playing, since it appears we’re all friends now.”

  “Care to explain that?” Ashton asks, glancing between Sophia and me.

  “Oh, I would, but it’s not my place to explain,” I reply, turning my back and sitting on a table. “You.” I point at the nearest minion. “Be a dear and fetch me some sushi.”

  “I underestimated you,” Grayson notes, taking the seat to my right as he runs a hand down my thigh.

  Slapping his hand away, I suppress my shudder of revulsion, and I look him straight in the eye. “Most people do.”

  ***

  Weeks go by, and it doesn’t get any easier. The game becomes natural, but the toll it takes wears me down. I wanted this, longed for it, but now I’m playing the game, I’m eager for the end.

  My mother questions me whenever I go home, wanting every little detail of my plan to bring down the Bishops. Her opinions and advice grate on me, driving a wedge between us, which my shrink eats up during our fortnightly sessions. I avoid going home at all costs and thankfully, my new status helps with that. There’s a different party or function nearly every night of the week on the Upper East Side.