Last Broken Rose: A Dark Romance (Rose and Thorn Book 3) Page 5

  Madame had trained me harder than she ever had before. She was never cruel, but she did push me to my very limit and then some more until I collapsed with exhaustion. I felt angry because I wasn't as prepared as I had been when I'd been in London. I wanted to prove to her I could do this, prove it to Thorn as well. But most of all, I needed to do this for myself. And despite my achy limbs, the strain I'd put myself under was nothing compared to what I would achieve once this training was over. I would give the performance of a lifetime, I would show everyone and anyone who'd ever doubted me just what I was made of. But most of all, I would show Thorn that I danced not just for myself, but for him. I wanted him to know every move, every twirl, every jump, was there to impress him. I didn't care whether other people watched. From the moment he'd taken me, I danced for him and him only.

  Madame joined me as I sat on the balcony overlooking the beach beneath. She didn't say a word, just sat on one of the chairs next to me and stared at the view with me.

  There were questions racing through my mind, so many things I wanted to ask about her, about Thorn. But they were all things I was too nervous to make sense of them, to say them out loud. She seemed to sense it though, and without me prying, she opened up to me herself.

  "I used to live here," she said softly. "When I was a little girl. It was a very different place back then."

  I turned to face her, but she kept staring at the sea as she went on.

  "My father was a gardener," she went on. "Our mother died when she had Thorn. He never knew her. We didn't have much. I think it's what drove my brother to... be the man he is today."

  I waited for her to go on. I was hungry for more information, for more of her words and stories. I needed to know so much more, yet a part of me felt guilty for listening when it wasn't Thorn talking.

  "He was obsessed with this house," she went on. "Even years after, when he'd made his money... He wanted to own it. I guess he wanted to show the world that he could do it."

  "What happened to you?" I finally asked. "What did you do? How did you separate?"

  I didn't want to pester her for more answers, but I was desperate to know. I never knew much about Madame. I saw her as a lonely, almost tragic figure in the past, a woman who had very obviously been through a personal tragedy though none of us at the studio knew exactly what it was. And none of us dared ask.

  She still wouldn't face me, but as she stared at the sea, her features hardened. Looking at her, I noticed for the first time she was a beautiful woman. She must've been about forty then, older than Thorn but still young and with a future ahead of her. But the feeling I got with Madame was that she'd signed off her own life, spending her hours training dancers when she couldn't dance herself. I didn't understand why, but now I was more curious than I'd ever been.

  "I fell in love," she finally said simply. "I moved away... Paris, London. I lost it all."

  She turned to face me and her eyes spoke of the pain she'd been through. Anguish I didn't understand. The pain was something I could equate with losing my mother, but not quite like it. Knowing now that she'd gone through the same thing I had opened my eyes. She knew what it was like to lose a parent. She understood. Perhaps it was the reason I was her favorite back in London.

  I wanted to know so much more, but I somehow sensed the moment had passed when she sighed and stood up from the chair.

  "A story for another day, perhaps," she said, and I smiled weakly as she motioned for us to walk back in the studio.

  We walked back inside to the sound of the music slowly fading. My muscles felt tired and pained and I needed a rest, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to walk away from her. I'd missed her, I realized. Missed our times in London, the long hours of training, even her vicious remark that had made me cry plenty of times before. This was the first time I saw the woman under the facade of harshness, the first time I saw Madame's vulnerability. And it made me love her more.

  We stood in front of the studio's door, both seemingly reluctant to say goodbye.

  "Do you think I can do it?" I blurted, and she cocked her head to the side, probably wondering what I meant. "I want to impress Thorn. I want this to be my best dance. Do you think I can?"

  "Yes," she said simply, and in that simple word and the way she'd said it, I found my reason to keep going. "You will. And I can't wait to see you blossom and bloom into the Rose you're destined to become."

  Eight

  Rose

  I woke up with the scent of rose petals heavy in the room.

  Once my eyes slowly opened, I saw the velvety, beautiful bloom resting next to me on Thorn's pillow. His apology, or so I thought, for not waiting until the morning with me. But once I got a better look at it, I discovered a small card attached to the thorny stem of the red rose. Curious, I unfolded it, tucking some stray strands of hair behind my ear as I did so, my eyes scanning the note written in Thorn's neat, precise handwriting.

  I am taking you out tonight, my Rose. An outfit will be delivered for you. Be at your most beautiful at 7 p.m. sharp.

  My chest constricted at the thought. Something I'd wanted for so long, something I'd asked for repeatedly - to be allowed to leave the house. Yet now that the possibility had finally arrived, I felt crippled by the thought, deathly afraid of the idea of leaving the Mansion and the life I knew so well behind me. There was no clarification to the event we'd be attending, and I figured my only hint would be the outfit I'd wear that night.

  The hours of my day passed excruciatingly slowly, curiosity getting the better of me so many times I even contemplated questioning Pia when I ran into her in the hallway. I attended practice for the first time with both Madame and Carina, and even though the animosity between us was obvious, it seemed to work well, making us even more competitive and bringing out our best dancing abilities when we were dancing together. Madame was as strict and unrelenting as ever, and by the end of practice, my body felt sore and exhausted. But still, the excitement for the night that lay ahead made me rush back to my room waiting for the next surprise. And sure enough, there it was - a beautiful baby pink set of boxes on my bed, with the name of an expensive store on the front.

  I raised the lid of the box slowly, a small gasp escaping my lips as I peeked inside the first box.

  There was fabric inside, almost ethereal in its beauty and glittering with blinding sparkles as I unfolded it. It was a dress that appeared to be made of something I could only describe as snowflakes - glittering, incredible snowflakes that shone in the light and captured every ray of the sunrise in my room. It was sleeveless, two thin bands of fabric with a low-cut back and a mermaid veil trailing behind. It took my breath when I looked at it properly, and I fell in love with the subtle but stark beauty of the garment.

  The next box contained shoes, beautiful white sating with a tall heel and an embellished front, where a silver brooch adorned the peep-toe peek. I hoped I would do the outfit justice, and as I got ready, I kept glancing at the gorgeous fabrics, wondering whether they'd look good on me.

  I shouldn't have worried. The moment I slipped inside the dress, I knew it would have looked incredible on anyone, but it felt like it had been custom-cut and tailored just for me. It fit to my body, hugging every curve and crevice with the veil trailing behind me. The dress glittered as I moved and I was stunned by its beauty, barely recognizing myself in my vanity table mirror.

  I'd put my hair up in a soft chignon, adding two pretty diamond barrettes Thorn had gifted me before. It was the only jewelry I wore. My makeup was subtle but well-done, and I felt like a million dollars as I made my way down the stairs and into the hall area. There were a few girls in there, and they gasped when I made my entrance. I'd always kept my distance from the other girls in the Mansion, but gliding past them, I hoped I would be able to make friends with some of them. I yearned for some company, for a girlfriend like Amber. Still, the thought of her sent a pang through my body, guilt and pain making me switch my attention to the man standing at the foot
of the stairs.

  He looked incredibly handsome as he always did, but his eyes sparkled with barely held back lust as I joined him in the hall. Thorn's arm wrapped proprietorially around my waist, and I leaned into him, inhaling his strong and masculine scent. I'd worn a rose perfume myself, something he'd given me a while ago, and I noticed how well our scents blended together, creating a mix that was so uniquely us no one else could have worn the same perfume with this effect.

  "You look breathtaking," he told me in that low growl of his, and I looked away shyly as he kissed my hand, always the perfect gentleman. "Come on now, Rose. We don't want to be late."

  He led me outside where a shiny black limousine was waiting. It was a balmy night, and the stars shone brightly above us. It felt like magic was in the air as we sat down in the car, and my eyes drank in our surroundings once we drove off, suddenly hungry for freedom and the sights that awaited us.

  I glanced at Thorn a couple of times, and he seemed amused by my hunger for the world around us. I still didn't know exactly where we were, but I didn't care anymore. The Mansion slowly faded into the background as we drove away from the shore, into the mainland. The country around us soon turned more populated, with taller and taller buildings as the minutes passed and we kept on driving.

  Neither of us spoke as we drove, but the silence between us was companionable, and after a while, I settled into his arms and he held me while I watched the world go by.

  The whole drive must've taken a little over an hour, and our surroundings changed into a bustling city filled with lights, people, and - at least for me - fear.

  I moved closer and closer to Thorn until I was practically sitting on his lap, my breaths fast and panicked, and he must've noticed my discomfort because he pulled me into his arms once the car stopped, holding me close and kissing the tip of my nose.

  "Don't be scared," he said simply, reading my emotions as clearly as ever.

  "How can I not be?" I asked him. "I haven't been out in so long..."

  "You're with me," he replied firmly. "It's the safest place you will ever be."

  With those words, he got out of the car and opened the passenger door for me. I got out too, my too-high heels making me look much more elegant than I actually felt. The dress sparkled in the night, and I felt several pairs of eyes on me as Thorn led me inside the large glass building, my heart pounding, and my skin ice-cold with fear.

  The building we walked into was an art gallery, wall upon wall decorated with beautiful works of genius. I felt a chill go down my spine as we entered, the sudden thrill of the night making the adrenaline pump through my veins.

  As soon as we walked inside, I felt the eyes of every person in that room on us. Envious women, men lusting after me. I felt it all in the pit of my stomach, and it felt glorious, and not unlike standing on a stage when I was dancing. It was the first time a deep realization hit me, telling me I was born to stand under the lights, but it might not have been to dance, but to shine nonetheless.

  Thorn led me in the belly of the room with his arm proprietorially wrapped around my hips. He was flaunting me. I had no doubt that these people had seen him with many women. Women more beautiful, more confident, more interesting than I felt. Yet now, I felt like every single person in the room knew who I was. The one. The final rose.

  "You look incredible," he whispered in my ear, sending goosebumps erupting all over my skin. "Every man in this room is fucking jealous of my toy tonight."

  A deep blush colored my cheeks as he steered me to a group of people. I was introduced. Fawned over. I smiled and blushed, chattered and giggled. Not a single person in the room would have guessed I was a prisoner. A willing victim.

  Thorn led me from person to person, from group to group. I met investors, bankers, painters, and mostly, billionaires with women whose necks were encrusted in diamonds, and men in suits that cost more than my life was probably worth. I was amazed. Enthralled. Falling in love with this lifestyle. The chink of champagne glasses, the taste of caviar. The classical music, the way everyone spoke. I was falling for it all until I saw him standing in the middle of the room.

  I turned to Thorn, my eyes wide and anxious.

  "No," I whispered, my hands going to his chest. "He can't be here."

  "Oh, darling," he smiled broadly. "You don't like my surprise? I thought you would be so happy to see your father, after all this time..."

  My body felt shaky, my legs barely holding me up. Something like anger bubbled in the pit of my stomach, and I struggled to find the words to explain why I was feeling so upset.

  "Harlow?"

  Before I got a chance to say something, I heard the familiar low, growly voice behind me, and I forced a smile on my lips as I turned around to face my father.

  He wore a strained expression, just like he always did around me. Everything about our relationship felt forced and fake, and I hated that he was there. I didn't want him intruding on my new life. Didn't want him to play any part of my new future. I wanted him gone. But a part of me also realized Thorn had done this for me. Brought him God knows how many miles away, so he could see his daughter again. I hoped it would be the last time.

  "Hello," I said in the most pleasant voice I could manage.

  He leaned closer and kissed my cheek. I had to fight my impulse to run away.

  I'd never been close with my father, especially after my mother's death. He was a drunk. An addict. He'd all but kicked me out after Mummy passed away, and I had to fend for myself at the tender age of fifteen. Madame had been more of a parent to me than my father ever had, and try as I might not to, I still resented him for it.

  Thorn cut in, shaking my father's hand pleasantly with a big smile on his face. He still didn't understand, but I felt the tension between the three of us. It was obvious something was amiss in this family reunion, and Thorn was starting to realize this wasn't all it had been cracked up to be.

  My father didn't say it was nice to see me. In fact, he spent the next thirty minutes talking to Thorn while picking up copious flutes of champagne from the trays the passing waiters were carrying. I got more and more embarrassed as the minutes passed and I realized my father had smelled out Thorn as a man with money, a man who could potentially invest in one of his 'projects' - ideas that were doomed to fail because my father never carried them through. Shame burned through me like a hot knife in my back, and the pain of being ignored yet again stung more than ever.

  Finally, after an hour of mindless chatter and being ignored, knowing even Thorn's patience was being tested, I excused myself. I felt Thorn's eyes on me while my blind father kept on talking, and I dashed towards the balcony that overlooked the city. I took a deep breath out there, filling my lungs with cold, fresh air and feeling the relief of being free again. No matter the shackles Thorn put on me, it still felt so much better than the pressure of my father and taking care of him when it should have been the other way around.

  I heard footsteps coming after me, strong and intimidating, the movements belonging to someone assertive and confident. I felt a hand on the small of my back the next second, and Thorn appeared in front of me.

  "You alright, little Rose?" he asked, and I could sense the hint of worry in his voice. "You disappeared on me."

  "I just..." I took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. "I appreciate you bringing him here, but... I don't want him in my life."

  "Why not?" he asked roughly, the first hint that this was something personal to him. "He's your father."

  "He's never been a father to me," I replied, my bottom lip shaking. "My mother was all I had. He was just a user... He tossed me on the street two weeks after she died."

  "I know," he said, surprising me with his words and making me look up into his eyes. "That's why I sent my sister to help you."

  "But why bring him here?" I asked weakly. "Why try to make amends? It's not worth it. He's not worth it."

  "I thought it would be nice for you," he said. "To see someone from your pas
t. To know he's taken care of."

  A grimace took over my face and I looked away, to the city below us.

  "The only person I care about is right here with me," I whispered. "And the other - Amber - you took away from me."

  The tension between us was palpable. It was a subject I was afraid to broach, and I knew he was hesitant to talk about my friend's faith. Still, I kept on hoping blindly that Thorn knew what he'd been doing when he took her to Carina's father. Praying, hoping that my friend was alright.

  "A topic for another time," he finally said, his voice forgiving. "Now come with me, Rose."

  He extended his hand, and I didn't hesitate before taking it. He smiled at me and led me back into the room. Somehow, I knew things would be okay. As always, Thorn understood.

  Nine

  Rose

  We got into the car hours later.

  Thorn had dismissed my father once we got back from the balcony. The way he treated him just because of me shocked me. He didn't give a shit about him, his patience gone and his kindness peeling away until he was nothing but cruel. The conversation he'd had with my father would replay in my mind over and over again, and I finally knew I'd be safe from him, that he would never be able to hurt me again as long as I stuck to Thorn's side.

  The second my father started talking again, Thorn raised a hand to stop him.

  "Here's what's going to happen," he said simply. "You're going to get back to London. You will not try to find your daughter again. You will receive a fund that will keep you clothed, fed, and with a roof over your head for the rest of your life, to be paid out monthly. Don't waste this fucking opportunity. Now get the hell out of here."

  He seemed confused at first, but once two guards grabbed him from either side, nudging him towards the door, an expression of rage took over his face. I hid my own in Thorn's shoulder so I wouldn't have to watch my own father - something he'd never truly been - thrown into the street. Once it was all over, everyone's attention was on us, and Thorn turned to our audience while my cheeks burned with shame.