It’s late, nearing midnight on a Saturday night, and I’m in a club, the bass of the music thumping through my bones. Sophia dances with her friends, the alcohol in her system strong enough she’s almost forgotten I’m here. Sipping my cocktail, I scan the dark, searching out someone to take my mind off the chaos of my life when my gaze lands on Ashton, seated at the bar. His connect with mine, the bitterness fading away to reveal the pain he keeps beneath. I narrow mine in return, rage flickering in the pit of my stomach. Every time he looks at me, he does so with hurt and betrayal. As if it is me who’s somehow been disloyal and broken the trust between us. Standing, I leave my drink on the table in front of me and march across the club. I’ve had it with him and his “poor me” eyes. He dumped glue on my head. He turned his back when I needed help. He used me like I was a toy, happy to have me and his position at the top.
Screw him.
“Wow there, my evil queen, who are you off to vanquish?” Grayson soothes, lifting me into his arms and swinging us onto the dance floor.
I growl, the sound coming from the deep pit of anger living at my core. “Get off me, Gray. I’m not in the mood.”
“Aww, but this is the version of Rose I like the most. The real, raw version.” His gaze follows mine to where I throw daggers at Ashton.
“Ah, the golden king. What is it with you women and him?”
I meet Grayson’s gaze, the alcohol in my system loosening my tongue more than it should. “I hate him. He acts like I’m the bad person when it’s he who betrayed me.”
Grayson smiles. “If you want to hurt him, Rose, I know the perfect way.”
I roll my eyes as his hands roam my body. “I’m not sleeping with you, Gray. I hate you too; it was you who concocted the plan.”
His brow lifts. “How about a kiss then to make up for it? I do feel the slightest bit regretful for that night.”
“Liar.”
“Let me put it this way. One dirty kiss that cuts right to the center of Ashton’s puppy dog heart?”
I look to Ashton to find him watching us, a shot glass in his hand. “Bugger it. I might as well have fun with the devil on my way to hell.”
His gaze heats. “Talk dirty to me, baby,” he whispers roughly, before taking me in a demanding kiss. And as much as I hate Grayson, I can’t ignore the thrill hurting Ashton gives me. The state of my soul is worse than I thought.
We dance and kiss, our bodies twisting to the beat. I move with him, losing myself in the music as Grayson pulls me around the dance floor. His hands roam my body, the hard length of him grinding against me, but I feel none of it. He doesn’t insight lust in my blood or drive me insane with need. Grayson is nothing compared to Ash, and I hate myself for it. I’m losing myself, day by day, in my obsessive attempt to make them pay, but the longer I play the game, the more I wonder whether I’m the one paying the price. And as I fall into bed that night, tears glistening on my cheeks, my self-loathing is at an all-time high.
Chapter 25
“Rose, we need to talk.”
“Ugh, Mum, can we do this in like four hours? I’m so hungover.”
“The fact you’re hungover is why we need to talk. This isn’t acceptable, Rose.”
Groaning, I roll over and eye my mother through the crook of my arm. “Really?” I mutter. “You’re choosing now to become a concerned parent. It’s not like I wasn’t drinking every weekend in London.”
She sits on the end of the bed, jostling the mattress and making me moan.
“Please,” I beg, “Don’t move the bed.”
She sighs loudly. “I’ll admit I haven’t been the best parent, but I’m worried about you, Rose. You’ve stopped talking to me.”
Removing my arm, I face my mother, trying to ignore the sudden pounding in my skull. “I stopped talking because all you’re interested in is my plans with the video, and it was doing my head in.”
“I’m concerned you’re going to regret it.”
“No, you’re afraid of the Bishops.”
“Maybe.” She looks away. “Maybe you should be too.”
I had a Bishop halfway down my throat… wasn’t that scary.
“I just think you were happier before this. When you hung out with Isla.”
“I wasn’t happy, Mother,” I snap, immediately regretting it as my head threatens to split in two. “I was lusting after a boy who could never be mine and hanging with a friend who was never really my friend. It wasn’t real, Mother. This… this deceit and treachery, it’s real. You wanted me to live in this world. Well, guess what? I am. So leave me alone and let me deal with it.”
“I’m sure whatever Isla did, she regrets, and I know you have cared for that boy since you were young, Rose. Are you sure you want to tear his family apart?” Her hand pats my ankle, her face solemn.
I’ve no idea why she’d suddenly acting like a saint; I learned everything I know from her. She’s been the one to push me since I started high school. She wanted me to wear the crown and now, when I’m doing what needs to be done to achieve just that, she’s having second thoughts.
“Mum, Isla led me into the trap. She’s been a spy from the beginning and Ash… well, his family is a lie. Arthur’s having an affair with a schoolgirl of all people!”
“I know, Rose, I know, but if you reveal the affair, you’ll never be able to fix what’s between you both.”
Angry, I sit up, bashing my covers down around my waist, despite the current state of my head and stomach. “He broke it, Mother. It’s already too late.” I laugh bitterly. “You know, when I saw him that night, for a single moment I thought I was saved. I thought, Ash is here, he’ll protect me, and in the end, he poured the bloody glue over my head. He didn’t save me, Mum, he destroyed me, and I don’t care what excuse he had, or how deeply entangled he is with Sophia and Grayson. I can never forgive him, and I never want to feel that hope again. I don’t need a guy to save me. I’m saving myself.”
“When are you revealing it?” she asks me quietly.
I smile. “Friday’s parent-teacher night.”
Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t comment.
Easing back down, I pull the covers to my chin as she stands. “Oh, that reminds me. I need three grand.”
“Whatever for?” she gasps.
I don’t look at her, but my lips lift into a wicked grin anyway. “To pay the guy who’s going to swap the school’s achievement video for my own.”
“Rose,” she breathes.
Chuckling quietly, I close my eyes. “I know. You taught me well.”
By the time next week is over, everyone will know what a sleazeball Arthur Bishop is, and their saintly queen will be ousted as a whore, her throne for the taking.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” my mother whispers as she walks away.
So do I. It’s one thing to take down school kids, but to attempt to do the same to one of the most powerful men on the Upper East Side, well, it’s a task not for the faint of heart. Lucky for me, my heart was crushed into uncaring a long time ago.
***
“Wakey, wakey, sleeping beauty.”
Flopping over in bed what feels like five minutes after my mother exited, I groan up at Grayson as he towers above my bed, two takeaway cups in his hands.
“How’d you get in here?” I rasp. God, I need water.
“Concierge let me in.” He shrugs.
Fucking Bishops. “Well, have them show you out. Isn’t my mum here?”
“Nope, but I’d have talked my way past her too.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I don’t doubt it. Is that coffee in there?”
“Yup, two sugars. Just how you like it.” He hands it over with a smile as I sit up.
I haven’t the brain cells to function, let alone scream at Grayson Bishop to leave my room. “Mmm.” My eyes slid shut. “I could kiss you.”
“I’d rather you cleaned your teeth first.”
“Ha ha. What are you doing here, Gray? We’re not exactly frie
nds.”
He sits on the edge of my bed and attempts to see beneath. “Are you nearly naked under there?”
“Anyone ever told you you’re a pig?” I ask after taking another sip of coffee. It’s just what I need, and the only reason I haven’t kicked him out on his arse.
“It’s one of my greatest qualities.” He smiles, all wicked charm.
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him on. “Get to the point, Dark Prince.”
“I just think we maybe could be friends.”
I laugh, but when he doesn’t so much as crack a grin, I realize he wasn’t joking. “You’re serious?” And for some crazy reason, I’m warming to the idea too. I want revenge for what he did as much as I do with Ashton and Sophia, and yet there is something so real about Grayson that draws me too him.
“Why not? Obviously, you’re never going to be friends with Ashton, and Sophia’s ready to stab you in the back the moment your guard is down, but I actually quite like you, Rose. You’re manipulative and cunning and well… hot.”
His description of me does not make me feel good. I’m not sure I want to be those things, though I know he’s right. I became those things to survive, but what is the point of being on top if you’ve sold all you are?
“Yet from the moment you heard my name, you’ve hated me. I haven’t forgotten what you did to me, Grayson,” I point out.
“Family principles. I happen to like my uncle.”
“More than your father?” Because you’ll probably be changing your mind in a week.
Leaning back, Grayson lays out on my bed, his head propped on my hip.
“Make yourself at home,” I mutter.
He grins but doesn’t move. “My father and I have a difficult relationship. He doesn’t like me because I remind him of all his worst qualities, and I don’t like him because he has never bothered putting me above his work.”
“That sucks.” And I actually mean it.
He shrugs. “I got over it a while ago.”
It hits me I’m probably seeing the real Grayson for the first time. There’s no plot he’s weaving or role he’s playing; he’s simply Grayson and his own basic desires. It’s a terrifying prospect.
“Friends, huh? I guess I could be your friend if it’s not just so you can manipulate something out of me, like say… what I have on Sophia.” I’m not sure if I mean it or not. I’m confused, but what I do know is I’m revealing his father’s sins soon, and having Grayson think I’m his friend will hurt him even more.
He rolls his head, meeting my gaze. “I couldn’t give a shit what you have one her. If I’m honest, I don’t much like her. Her ambition is short-sighted. You, on the other hand, have risen from the ashes, and what a beautiful phoenix you’ve become. I never expected to see you again after the gala, and then you show up looking like a she-demon straight out of Hell.” He groans and grips himself. “I got hard instantly.”
I hit him. “If you want to be friends, you can quit that crap.”
Grayson laughs and sits up, slapping my legs beneath the covers. “Anyway, enough chit-chat. Go get a shower. We’ve a dinner to attend.”
“Really?” I groan. “Can’t we stay in bed and watch movies instead?”
“Do I look like a girl, Rose?” He shakes his head. “My father’s hosting a dinner for my family tonight. Ashton’s bringing Sophia.”
I laugh wickedly before slinging back the covers and hopping out of bed. “I’ll be ready in thirty.”
“How’d you feel about friends with benefits?” Grayson asks as I walk across the room in my knickers and a camisole. I’ve never been ashamed of my body and losing all your will to care makes covering up seem pointless.
I glance back to find his hungry gaze on my arse. “Keep dreaming, Gray.”
“Oh, I will, believe me.”
Shaking my head, I saunter away. Normally I’m not a fan of family dinners, but this one is going to be so much fun.
Chapter 26
Walking out of my en suite, I find my bedroom empty and head for my walk-in closet, dropping my towel as I enter.
“Rose?”
Squealing, I snatch at the towel falling to the carpet and cover myself hastily. “Bloody hell, Gray, I thought you’d done the gentlemanly thing and gone to wait in the living room.”
He smirks, eyeing the towel as I wrap it more securely around myself. “I’m not a gentleman, Rose.”
I shake my head, annoyed but also suppressing a smile, because honestly, this is so Grayson Bishop and you’ve got to love him for his raw honesty. It’s better than the liars I’m normally surrounded by.
“Why are you in my closet?” I ask.
“To find you something to wear,” he retorts, turning away and fingering through my clothes. “For someone who’s supposed to be penniless, you’ve a lot of clothes.”
“I never claimed to be penniless. The Keeley name might be dirt, but I’m a Devenport now, and my grandfather’s nearly as rich as your father.”
He pulls out a dress, inspects it before shaking his head and putting it back. I laugh to myself; it’s such a weird thing to be watching the dark prince of Albany Nightingale selecting out clothes for me.
“I can dress myself, Gray,” I note.
He looks me up and down before going back to his search. “I thought your mother was the black sheep and cut off.”
Frowning, I turn my back on him and pull some underwear out of a drawer. “Where do you even get this information, and why would you care about my family’s dynamics?”
“Knowledge is power, Rose. Besides, since I found out what your father did to my uncle, I made it my business to learn every secret. So how did your mother convince your grandparents to welcome you back with open arms?”
I shrug. “Not sure. All I know is she was planning an exit way before my father was caught,” I answer, slipping underwear on beneath my towel.
He’s smiling when I glance his way again, a dark green dress in his hand. “Ah, a woman after my own heart. She played the long game. Smart.” He lifts the dress up. “Wear this.”
Studying the dress, I try and fail to work out Grayson’s motives. “What if I refuse?”
He shrugs. “Go in your underwear if you’d like. Though I was going with subtle tonight. What’s wrong with the dress?”
“Nothing,” I answer, dragging out the word. “I was kinda expecting you to pick something…”
“Sluttier?” He smirks. “My father expects sluts, Rose. What he doesn’t expect are polite ladies.”
“But my name will annoy him.”
“True, but he’ll also judge you on your own merits. He’s like that.”
“I’m confused, Gray, are you trying to annoy your father or not?”
Walking toward me, Grayson lifts a finger, trailing it along my bare arm, leaving goose bumps in his wake, before leaning forward and pressing a delicate kiss to my cheek. “I want him to notice me, Rose. I want him to stop and actually look.”
His words are said with a sadness that hurts my battered heart. As if he’s revealing a truth he’s told no one, and I’m not sure why he’s trusting me with these feelings. It’s scary. An exposed, vulnerable, Grayson is an alluring temptation.
“I’ll leave you to get ready,” he finishes on a whisper. “Wear the dress, please, Rose.”
I grin, needing to lighten the mood. “Since you asked so politely.”
Winking, he leaves, his smirk back in place and the world righted to its normal position.
Damn, I do not need to be falling for the likes of Grayson Bishop.
Taking the dress he chose, I drop my towel and slip it over my head, pulling it into position. It fits snug to my waist, one sleeve to my wrist, the other bare, flowing over my hips to a respectable length. Selecting a pair of heels in the same color, I slip my feet into them before exiting my closet to dry my hair and apply makeup.
“That was quicker than I expected,” Grayson says as I enter the living area. He’s helped himself to a glass of sc
otch—I didn’t even know we had such a thing. All I have ever seen is my mother drinking wine. “We’ve got a little time. Drink?” He lifts the bottle.
“Why not?” Walking over, I join Grayson at the kitchen bench and wait for him to pour me a glass.
“To the fall of a kingdom,” he salutes, raising his glass after giving me mine.
I clink the glass, but his words send a shiver down my spine. “I’m not interested in being queen, Gray. This is revenge, pure and simple.”
“Really?” He lifts one brow questioningly. “I’d have thought you’d want the crown after losing your place in London.”
“Maybe I did, but I’m not sure the price is worth it.”
“There’s no price to being on top, Rose.”
I laugh. “Then why are you here?”
“Point taken,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “But I don’t think you’re going to have much choice, Rose. In knocking Sophia down, you’ve made her appear weak. She should have crushed you by now.”
I smile slowly, the inner bitch in me taking over. “I’ve got a noose around her neck, Gray. She’s no choice but to swallow her rage.”
His grin matches mine. “You’re fucking sexy when you’re being wicked.” His words send a thrill through me, not desire as such, but a burst of adrenaline, the exhilaration of being bad. As tiring as playing this game is, there are moments when my dark side takes over with sinful delight.
Grayson downs his drink and nods for me to do the same. “Drink up.”
Swilling the amber liquid in my glass, I do as he asks and swallow it in one. The scotch burns my throat as it slides down, heating my empty stomach. “I haven’t eaten anything today,” I say, getting to my feet.
“Grab something to go. I would rather not be late and the car’s waiting.”
Rustling in the cupboard, I pull out a couple of protein bars. “Ready.”
The Destruction of Rose: A High School Bully Romance (Albany Nightingale Duet Book 1) Page 17
