Chapter 20
twenty
ROSE
Sipping on my coffee, I glare at the cabinets, hating that I’m starting to feel comfortable in Dare’s home. The asshole is still asleep. Last night, after spending the whole day with Cassia and plotting ways to make Dare miserable, I went to bed in the guest room. Dare apparently didn’t approve and took it upon himself to move me to his room.
The disturbing part is, I didn’t even wake up.
It’s been a rough few days.
The time with Cassia helped. She always has a way of making me feel less alone. In a world of people who want to use me in one way or another, Cassia has never tried to take advantage. I didn’t tell her about Eric. Cassia wouldn’t turn me in; she’d probably even tell me she’s happy Eric’s dead. So, maybe it’s not her I’m trying to protect.
For one, I don’t want her to look at me differently.
And, maybe, part of me can’t bear to say the words, I’m a killer , out loud .
Dare might’ve given me the strength to finish what I started, but I made the decision to put the knife to Eric’s throat. The strangest part is, I’m not so much upset that Eric is gone and will never come back; I’m pissed that the asshole left me with no choice. I mean, sure, I could have let him go, but after what he tried and whatever deal he made with my dad, I felt trapped. Leaving him alive meant opening the possibility for more unwelcome encounters. And if Dad had convinced me to marry him...
I shudder at the thought and set my coffee aside.
Before I can get up, Dare’s arms wrap around my waist. My heart slams against my rib cage, and I gasp, hating that he snuck up on me once again. Every muscle stiffens. His rich and heady vetiver scent wraps around me as his chin rests on my shoulder. “Scared?”
I suck in a breath. “No.”
“Hmm.” He tightens his hold. “How’s my wife?”
“Don’t call me that.” I swear, he does it to make me mad.
“It’s cute you think you can tell me what to do.”
Scowling, I turn in his arms and glare at him, ready to rip into him, but his hand glides down to grip my ass. He pushes between my legs and presses against me, his thin sleep pants and my shorts hardly creating a barrier between our bodies. The scathing words I had ready die in my throat. My cunt throbs. My entire body is primed for him. Ready to let him have his way and make me come as hard as he did the other night.
It’s only sex.
“I can feel how wet you are,” he murmurs, squeezing my ass and rocking my hips over his length.
The horrifying truth is, my short cotton shorts are soaked .
Triumph flares in his irises.
No. He can’t win. My palms finding his chest, I push. Dare’s eyes bounce between mine, and in the next instant, he releases me and steps back. Turning, he storms away.
“We meet with your dad at nine,” he calls before marching upstairs to get ready.
A few moments later, the bedroom door slams shut.
I breathe out, grab my coffee, and lock myself in the guest bedroom, slowly clawing my way out of my lusty thoughts.
“Keep your head, Rose,” I mutter to myself, straightening and heading to clean up for the meeting with my dad. A sudden rush of panic over how he’ll react flutters in my chest, sending acid through my veins and churning in my gut. Dad will be pissed. He’ll probably yell. He’ll be disappointed in me. Again.
Dad will feel betrayed. Like he can’t trust me.
What if he decides he’s done with me, and I lose the only parent I have left?
I take a deep breath, attempting to calm my racing heart. It’s okay. I have a unique opportunity to get inside of Dare’s head. To get close to his businesses. If I can find proof that he directed his employees to make all those predatory loans, that’ll help me earn back Dad’s trust.
And maybe then, he’ll help me find a way to get out of the prenup.
The only problem is, I’ll have to tell him that I signed it first.
Dare has his driver take us to the financial district. The busy morning traffic means we’re stuck in the car longer than I care to be. The silence between us is stifling, but I’m trying to stop reacting to Dare and his taunts.
Dare drums his fingers on his leg. Even that simple movement is laced with danger. Like I’m the target, and he’s simply biding his time before going for the killing blow. But he’s had every opportunity to deal with me. I’m still alive. Which means Dare has other plans for me. I don’t know what’s scarier—being desired by the beast or being used by the beast.
I scroll through the latest news, frowning at the price of stocks for one of our bigger businesses dropping overnight. It’s nothing drastic, but enough to make me wonder if some social media fearmongering got to people. The fact that an app full of virtual reality can make such an impact is wild. Social media freak-outs aren’t new. The market always bounces back, and JD Miller & Co has plenty of other revenue sources, such that trouble in one business hardly causes a ripple.
Dare clears his throat.
I ignore him.
His fingers curl into a fist. Annoyance radiates off him in waves. He isn’t used to being iced out. No, he’s probably used to people blubbering and begging for his forgiveness.
My lips quirk.
When the car finally reaches its destination, the driver opens the door for Dare, who gets out and turns back, extending a tattooed hand to help me. I slip my phone into my purse and slide out, brushing his hand away and standing. My heels hit the concrete, and I stare at the tall building before me.
My dad’s baby.
His life’s work. My grandfather did great things, but my dad took that wealth and quadrupled it .
This building is a monument to the Miller family fortune, a physical reminder of JD Miller & Co and its power.
Part of which I foolishly signed away to Dare with the prenup.
My throat goes dry, and I clasp my hands together to hide their shaking. JD Miller & Co means everything to Dad. It means a lot to me, too, and I’ve royally fucked up. Keeping the emotions off my face, I glance at Dare, frowning when I spot Remy.
I didn’t hear the bodyguard approach. Truth be told, I almost forgot about him, which says a lot about how much Dare distracts me. Remy and Dare trade looks.
Remy sighs, shaking his head. “I’ll wait out here.”
Dare turns to me. I gesture with my hand, telling him to lead the way.
Dare’s eyes narrow, and he scowls at the building. He holds no love for the company—or my dad. “Let’s get it over with.”
I note his lack of enthusiasm but don’t respond to it. A few people nod and smile at me as we head inside the building. Others stare at Dare with wide eyes and fear slackening their features. Security waves me through but stops Dare. I contemplate going up without him, but instead, wait patiently for security to finish searching him for weapons. I’m too scared to face my dad alone.
Dare holds my gaze, eyebrows slamming down, and I keep the mild-mannered expression firmly in place. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m not going to give him anything to work with.
Dare shoulder-checks the security guard and strides past him. The dark blue Tom Ford suit hugging his body was practically made for him. The material strains around his biceps and thighs, the jacket tapering in at the waist in all the right ways. His hair is sleek, not a strand out of place, but as he prowls toward where I wait, I can’t help but think of him as some type of monster.
The type of man that makes CEOs scared. That makes a board nervous. That gets off on other people cowering in his presence. As he stops in front of me, looming and mere inches away, I tip my chin and meet his gaze, swearing to make him pay.
Dare smirks.
I scowl but quickly wipe it away. It’s too easy to forget myself and react to him. Or maybe he’s that infuriating. Without speaking, I turn away from him and head to the elevators. Dare follows me, the hairs on the back of my neck rising as he checks me out.
The Hugo Boss dress is hardly sexy, but with my C-cups, wide hips, and soft stomach, the fabric clings to my body. The heat of Dare’s gaze swoops to my ass. I add a little extra sway to my hips and hear his pleased hum in response. Only he would make me feel this way in corporate workwear.
“Morning, Ms. Miller.” Irene greets me with a warm smile, though it slips away when she spots the man who’s come to a stop beside me.
Dare’s forearm brushes against mine. He’s too close, but of course, he knows that. Dare lives to make me mad. Refusing to acknowledge him, I pretend he doesn’t exist.
“Morning, Irene.”
She grabs a bagel from her stand. “Hungry?”
Actually, I’m not. Dare made breakfast again, but out of respect for the ritual, I take the bagel and grin at her. “Always. Thank you.”
She waves her hand. “Don’t mention it.” Her gaze cuts to Dare. Normally, she’d fill me in on Dad’s mood, but with Dare here, I can see her unease.
“How’s your granddaughter?” I ask, not wanting Dare to know she might be a source of information on my dad.
The woman’s face brightens once more. “Good. We finally found a physical therapist to help her learn to crawl, and it’s going well!”
“That’s amazing,” I tell her.
Irene nods and glances at the screen above the elevator. The conversation is stiff this morning, and all signs point to the beast next to me.
“It really is,” she tells me as the carriage reaches the lobby. The doors slide open and she gestures us forward. “Have a good day, Ms. Miller.”
I beam. “You too, Irene. Give that baby a hug for me.”
“I will.” She slides her gaze to Dare and frowns. “Have a good day, Mr. Richardson.”
He dips his head in acknowledgement, strutting into the elevator and resting against the back wall. I follow and give him my back, standing as far away from him as I can. The doors shut and my heart skips.
The carriage starts to rise. Unease tightens my chest with each level that passes. I blow out a hard breath and breathe deep, exhaling and trying to expel the nerves.
“You’re scared.” Dare’s voice rumbles through the small space, making me painfully aware of how close he is.
“Like you care.”
“Why?”
I glance at him, my eyebrows pressing together. “Because you don’t like me and I don’t like you.”
He shakes his head. “No. Why are you scared?”
My scoff is sharp enough to cut, but Dare simply waits for an answer, unaffected. “You know, for someone so pretty, you sure are dumb.”
“You think I’m pretty?” Dare places his hand on his chest. “Rose, I’m flattered.”
“You missed the insult.”
“Or I’m waiting for you to answer my question,” he fires back.
“Again, why do you care?”
Dare studies me, pressing his lips together and clenching his jaw. That’s what I thought. He doesn’t. And there’s no reason to share my thoughts with him. Facing forward, I focus on breathing and steadying my racing heart. We’re almost there.
I’m aware of Dare shifting closer, but I ignore him and the curiosity sparking in the back of my mind. Or I try to. When Dare wraps his arms around my middle and tugs my back against his chest, it’s a little hard to pretend like he doesn’t exist.
His mouth brushes over my ear, right as one hand drifts up to clutch my throat. “Who are you?”
Throat bobbing against his palm as I swallow, I shake my head and remind myself not to give in to his games. “That’s a silly question.”
The warm chuckle against my cheek distracts me from my racing thoughts. “You’re mine, Rose.”
Like hell. “I’m not?—”
“You’re my wife . Not Rose Miller. Not Ms. Miller. You’re Mrs . Richardson. Don’t forget what that means.”
Lines cut across my forehead, but before I can dissect his words, Dare steps back, leaving me bereft for his touch. The doors glide open. Ryan, the receptionist, glances up, eyes widening when he spots who I’ve brought with me.
His momentary distraction buys me time to clear my expression. Rolling my shoulders, I smile and stride out of the elevator, stopping in front of Ryan’s desk.
“Morning. Will you let my dad know we’re here?” There’s no scheduled meeting, but I’m hoping Ryan is smart enough to know I’m trying to give Dad a heads-up.
Ryan glances at his monitor, narrows his eyes, then nods. “Of course, Ms. Miller.”
Dare pointedly clears his throat.
I whirl and grab his hand, dragging him away from the receptionist before he can demand that he call me Mrs. Richardson. Fucking men. Once we’re far enough away, I drop his wrist, but Dare doesn’t miss a beat. He matches me stride for stride.
“Can’t keep your hands off me?” he asks.
“If you wake up one morning without your tongue, don’t be surprised.”
Dare laughs—like he thinks I’m joking, when I’m already planning how to do it.
I glare at him.
His lips press into a wider grin. I almost trip, but years of practice in heels and Dare’s hand on my waist keep me steady. That smile is disarming. Beautiful. Dangerous.
“I like it when you threaten me.”
What? Is he insane?
“Rosalynn!” Dad’s sharp voice snaps me out of my thoughts.
Flinching, I instantly side-step, forcing Dare’s fingers to slip off my body. The beast practically snarls.
My gaze zips to Dad standing in the doorway of his office, face tomato red, eyes alight with anger I haven’t seen in years. The few employees scurrying about make themselves scarce. Only Dare remains at my side, his jaw clenched tight and fists locked at his sides.
Great. I’m surrounded by angry men. Is this my destiny? To ping-pong between men and their egos? Surely not.
Striding ahead of my husband , I stop in front of my dad. “Let’s talk in your office.”
“Why is he here?” Dad’s voice is so loud, he’s practically shouting. He’s making a scene. Joseph Miller doesn’t do drama, which means he’s really mad.
My chest is so tight, it feels like it’s about to crack. “Dad.” I place my hand on his arm. The smooth material of his suit is soft against my palm, and the diamond on my ring finger glitters back at me. My heart sinks.
Dad’s eyes drop to the offending jewelry, his lip curling and his grip on the door handle tightening. “Explain.”
“Let’s discuss this in your office.” I gesture around, hoping his pride will get the better of him.
Dad clicks his teeth but ultimately storms toward his desk, turning so roughly, the door swings closed. It nearly hits me, but Dare’s palm slaps against the heavy wood before the door can plow into me, the tattoos on the back of his hand stopping mere centimeters from my face. I don’t think too hard about whether Dad did that on purpose.
Dare’s chest brushes against my back.
Contrary as it is, the touch gives me strength. I walk into the office as if it were any other Monday. Dare follows, gently closing the door. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but I swear the soft snick is almost a reprimand. A warning for my father.
Dad is standing behind his chair, gripping the headrest so hard, his knuckles have turned white. He eyes Dare like he might attack at any moment. Pulse fluttering, I take a seat. Dare perches on the arm of my chair. I glare at him, but he doesn’t catch it because he’s too busy holding my dad’s gaze, a smirk tugging at his lips .
There’s nothing familiar about this smile, though.
It’s sharper. Deadlier. Menacing. Born of the desire to punish my dad.
After a moment of them refusing to talk, I sigh and decide to be the grown-up in the room. “Dare and I got married.”
How’s that for ripping off the Band-Aid?
Dad short-circuits. Left eye twitching, the headrest groaning as his grip tightens, teeth bared. Face bright red and a vein throbbing on his forehead.
Dad releases the chair, his eyes narrowing. “You what?”
“I heard her loud and clear,” Dare says.
Dad shoots daggers at him. “I’m sure you think you heard her, but I know my daughter isn’t stupid enough to marry a Richardson.”
Ouch.
“Is that so?” Dare gives me an amused once-over. “Rose?”
“ Rose ?” Dad echoes, except his tone is full of reprimand, full of vitriol he reserves for those who really mess up.
My throat threatens to close, but I force air into my lungs, force myself to be strong. The only thing worse than disappointing him is letting him think I’m weak. “We’re married.” I hold up my left hand, displaying the ring he scowled at moments ago.
Dad stares at me, and though he doesn’t say anything, I can practically hear the vile things he’s thinking. Then he looks at Dare. “I need a moment alone with my daughter.” He sounds so calm.
“Whatever you have to say to my wife can be said in front of me.”
My wife. He keeps saying that, as if it means something. I pinch my eyes closed. Must he provoke my dad ?
Dad huffs. “Out.”
“Really, Joe, there’s no reason?—”
“OUT!” Dad’s shout is so loud, I flinch. The second time in a matter of minutes.
The oxygen freezes in my lungs and time suspends for a full second, but then Dare’s grip is on my chin, and he’s looking me in the eye. “What do you say, wife? Do you want me to stay?”
Under his mocking tone, there’s a promise of support, but I can’t allow it. If I do, my dad will never trust me, and my solitary goal is to find a way to prove my loyalty to my family. To prove I’m still a Miller.
“I’d like to talk to my dad alone.”
Something akin to worry flickers across Dare’s face. The emotion disappears as quickly as it appeared. His fingers leave my chin, and he stands, smoothing his hand down his suit. “I’ll be waiting outside.” Dare leaves.
Dad waits a full minute, simply glaring at me. It takes all of my strength to keep from slinking down in the chair, to avoid shrinking in on myself. Cowering goes against every hard lesson Dad taught me, so as unnerving as it feels, I hold his glare, waiting him out.
“Tell me it’s a lie,” he finally says, slowly walking around the desk.
My palms are sweating. “I can’t.”
“What about Eric?” Dad stops before me.
Dad doesn’t know he’s dead. I can’t give him any reason to suspect that, either.
Heart beating so fast, I’m sure he can hear it, I slowly exhale. “What about him?” I crane my neck to hold his furious gaze.
Dad grips my chin where Dare did, only his touch is biting, so hard, I have to stifle a yelp. “Don’t fuck with me, Rosalynn. Did you really marry that beast ?”
“Yes,” I confess. His fingers dig into my skin. “Dad, you’re hurting me.”
Though he releases my chin, that’s hardly a relief. The back of his hand connects with my cheek, and this time, it’s impossible to swallow my whimper as pain lances through me. But that’s the only sound I make. I bite the inside of my mouth hard enough to draw blood, the copper tang washing over my tongue and grounding me.
I knew he’d be mad. I expected this anger, but the slap? Dad has never hit me. Never raised a hand. Hurt curdles inside my stomach. Lifting my hand, I touch my cheek. The skin is hot and angry, and I’m confused more than anything.
The slap was so easy for him. Almost like it was something he’s done before. I look up at him, but Dad has already turned away. I’m safe from his anger for now.
“I have a plan.” Though my voice only has the slightest shake, even that little bit is enough to make me hate myself. Millers aren’t weak. How many times has he told me that?
“You have a plan,” Dad parrots, scoffing. “Tell me, Rosalynn, what’s your plan? Spread your legs and hope he’ll give you his shares?”
That wasn’t exactly my plan, but with the way I respond to Dare, the way I desire him, Dad’s question slams into me. You really are stupid, aren’t you?
I shake off the unwelcome voice. “No. I have a way in, Dad. We can use this marriage to our advantage.”
Dad pauses in front of me. “How?”
My response comes out of me in a rush. “I’m inside now. I can get to the business, find proof about those predatory loans or some type of leverage. Just give me time. We can find something to push him out.”
Dad studies me. “Tell me you’re not this naive.”
“Dad.”
His hand slices through the air, close enough to my face that I rear back, expecting another hit. That only makes his eyes flash with disappointment. “Did you sign a prenup?”
I swallow and clasp my hands in my lap, palms so sweaty, it’s disgusting. “Yes. It’s... complicated to break.”
Dad’s frown deepens. There’s no adequate way to describe the fury that flashes over his face, but the reaction is a spike of fear in my heart. He grabs my arm and yanks me out of the chair. As my ankle wobbles, I bite my cheek to keep from protesting, too afraid he’ll hit me again.
“What did you do, Rosalynn?” Spittle hits my face.
“We can find a way to get out of it.” My voice is pleading, pathetic.
Dad’s grip turns bruising. “You lied to me,” he hisses.
My stomach churns. Breaking his trust is the main thing I was worried about. He has to know I’m still loyal. He has to know that I’d never betray my family. He has to know I’m still a Miller, no matter what Dare says, because if he doesn’t trust me, he won’t help me find a way out of this marriage. I’ll be on my own.
And I don’t want to be alone or lose my family.
“Dad, please,” I whisper, hoping the softness of my voice will get to him. “I will find what we need. We’ll take him down. I promise.”
His hazel eyes, so similar to my own, slide over my face, jaw clicking as he wrestles with whatever he’s thinking. “I want a copy of that prenup.”
“We don’t have to worry about that?—”
Dad squeezes my arm even harder .
I fall silent.
“You’ve disappointed me yet again, Rosalynn.”
Tears burn in my eyes, and the air in my throat chokes me. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t fix the problem you created.”
I don’t bother telling him about Eric or that I didn’t really have a choice. He wouldn’t believe me, anyway.
“Tell me how to fix it,” I say, desperate to prove myself to him. “I’ll do anything.”
Dad shakes his head. “I can’t trust you.”
“You can.” I reach for him, but he bats my hand away, fingers flexing on my other arm. “Please, Dad. I promise I’m going to find what we need.” The tremble in my voice is shameful, and the ripple of disgust across Dad’s face confirms that I’m making things worse.
When he releases me, I fight the urge to rub the bruises. So many in such a short span of time, yet none from the man standing outside the door. How’s that for irony? Dad searches my face, probably looking for some proof of what I’m telling him. I don’t look away and keep my expression open, showing him how much I mean what I’m telling him.
The marriage can be useful. We can still take Dare down.
“You have a month to prove yourself, or I’ll disinherit you.”
The words crash into me and I sway on my feet. “Dad, you wouldn’t?—”
“I will,” he cuts me off, face hardening. “I’m not letting you destroy my life’s work.”
Covering my mouth with my hand to keep from arguing, I glance away, blinking back the pain of being so easily discarded, as if I mean nothing at all. The money isn’t what hurts. I have plenty and my own sources of income. It’s the way Dad would cut me out. I don’t want to lose the only parent I have left. Dad’s all I ever had. He’s my rock. He saved me from the nightmares that used to haunt me. If he disinherits me, all I have is Cassia. My best friend is amazing, but I want my family.
The timeline he’s given sets me up for failure. “It’ll take more than a month for Dare to let his guard down.”
“Two, then.”
I shake my head. “Four, at least. Give me four months. If I don’t find anything, then you can do what needs to be done.”
It won’t come to him disinheriting me. I won’t let it. I’ll prove he can trust me.
Dad steps back and nods. “Fine. Four months, but if I so much as suspect you’re lying to me, you’re done, Rosalynn. I won’t let you destroy my legacy.”
“I won’t,” I swear.
Dad doesn’t believe me.
But that’s okay. I’m going to make good on my promise.