Chapter 10
Chapter 10
ROSALIE
THE NEXT DAY
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The phone buzzed in my hand, and when I glanced at the screen, Damien’s name lit up. My stomach tightened. I hadn’t heard from him all day, no calls nor texts, and frankly, I’d been hoping for a little more silence. But I knew better than to ignore him.
Taking a breath, I swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Rosalie.” His tone was firm, direct. “I need you to attend a function tonight on my behalf.”
I gripped the phone a little tighter. “What? Damien, I-”
“You’ll do it,” he cut in smoothly, as if my protest was nothing more than a formality. “There’s no one else, and I can’t have myself embarrassed tonight. That means you’ll go, dressed appropriately, and represent me well. Understood?”
I closed my eyes, bristling at his command. “Damien, I don’t want to. I don’t know anyone there, and-”
He gave a low chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “Rosebud, this isn’t about what you want. You’re my wife now. It’s your duty to support me, and that means showing up when I need you to. So save us both the argument and just go.”
The nickname, so incongruous with his tone, only made me grit my teeth harder. The way he used it as if I were something fragile, something that would crumble without his hand guiding me–well, that wasn’t me. Not anymore.
“Fine,” I said, struggling to keep the resentment from my voice. “I’ll go. But don’t expect me to enjoy it.”
“Oh, I don’t,” he said smoothly. “I expect you to do what’s necessary. That’s all. The driver will take you there by eight. Be ready”
And with that, he hung up, leaving a silence that was almost worse than his voice. I tossed the phone onto the bed, muttering under my breath.
Attending a function on his behalf–the last thing I wanted to do tonight. But Damien’s words lingered, each syllable a threat wrapped in politeness. There was no choice, really.
Hours later, I found myself stepping into the grand ballroom, my nerves tight as I glanced around the room. The glittering lights, the elegant decor, the hum of polite laughter–it was Damien’s world, not mine. I felt like an imposter with every step, yet I kept my head high, determined not to let his demands shake me tonight.
The night was going smoothly, or as smoothly as it could, until I caught sight of a familiar face in the crowd. My stomach dropped.
“Rosalie!” My sister’s voice broke through the chatter, her eyes lighting up as she hurried over.
I forced a smile, trying to keep the tension out of my voice. “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here.”
She looked me over, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “And I didn’t expect to see you at one of these functions. Where’s Damien? Couldn’t drag himself away from business?”
The way she said his name, so casually, grated at me. “He’s… away on a trip,” I replied curtly, hoping that would be the end of
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Chapter 10
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But she didn’t let it go. She folded her arms, studying me. “So, how are you, Rosalie? Really. It’s been ages since we actually talked.”
I forced a stiff smile. “I’m fine,” I replied, looking around for an excuse to slip away. “Just busy.”
She tilted her head, her gaze too knowing. “Busy keeping up with Damien, I’m sure.” Her tone held a hint of something- pity, maybe? It irritated me to my core.
“Don’t pretend you know anything about my life.” The words came out sharper than I’d intended, and I saw her face flicker with surprise. I didn’t wait for her response, turning on my heel and slipping deeper into the crowd before she could press
further.
As I walked away, I felt a wave of both satisfaction and guilt. Maybe I was too harsh, but she had no right to pry into my life -not when she’d stood by, silent, through so much of my hurt.
Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t notice when someone called my name. “Rosalie?”
I turned, blinking in surprise as I recognized the face in front of me. “Jake?”
Jake had been a friend from way back–someone I’d grown up with, lost touch with over the years. Seeing him here felt like a strange but welcome break from the tense night.
“Oh my God, it’s been ages!” I exclaimed, genuinely smiling for the first time that night. “What are you doing here?”
We fell easily into conversation, catching up, laughing about old memories. The tension in my shoulders eased as we chatted, his familiar presence a balm I hadn’t realized I needed. He even made me laugh–really laugh, not the forced, polite chuckles I’d been giving out all evening.
“So, Mrs. High Society now, huh?” he teased after a while. “Can’t believe it. You used to hate all this fancy stuff.”
I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Trust me, it hasn’t grown on me.”
The band struck up a slow song, and Jake raised an eyebrow. “Well, since we’re already here… one dance?”
I hesitated, glancing around. But it was just a dance, with an old friend. Nodding, I took his hand, letting him lead me onto the dance floor. For a moment, it felt like a flashback to simpler days, a brief escape from the mess my life had become.
But the moment didn’t last. My phone buzzed in my purse, interrupting the music, the laughter, everything. I excused myself, slipping away to check the message.
It was from Damien.
A photo stared back at me, making my heart sink. It was a picture of Jake and me, mid–laugh, mid–dance. Another message followed: “Enjoying yourself, Rosebud?”
I stared at the screen, dread prickling over my skin. I could practically feel
