The Vanity of Roses - Lily White Page 0,115

his head. “That, I don’t know. But he certainly has a reason to now, doesn’t he? All because you wanted to drag Lisbeth around and show the world she was found.”

“Then I’ll kill him.”

He was silent for a second, his jaw ticking like a bomb about to explode. “I wish it was that easy.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Because the files will be sent out if something happens to him. At least, that’s what he told me.”

We stared at each other, both refusing to give ground, both absolutely irate at the situation we found ourselves in.

But it still didn’t make sense.

“You’re lying,” I accused because it was the only explanation that made sense. He was feeding me bullshit that was falling apart with every new question I asked.

“I’m not.”

“Then tell me why Mortize would even take a fucking deal regarding the fights rather than just ending us to wipe his hands of it.”

“He wants Lisbeth,” Franklin answered, as if that should be enough of an explanation.

It wasn’t.

“Why the fuck would a woman matter so much to him?”

Franklin shoved to his feet to go nose to nose with me, his voice a deep growl that betrayed the calm facade he always attempted to give the world.

“Because she’s the true heir to the Rose fortune, Callan. All our assets. All the accounts. You know that and so does he. She’s worth more to him with this family intact than the pathetic vengeance he’d get for bringing us down. Moritze isn’t a fucking idiot. If he can take what’s ours, he will. Now do you understand?”

The asshole was playing the long game, and I’d been so caught up with Lisbeth I’d failed to notice what was going on right in front of my face.

I pushed away from him before following through with the need I had to rip his head off. Pacing the length of the room, I punched a wall, my knuckles busting open as plaster rained down to litter the floor.

A heavy sigh poured from my lips several minutes later when I turned to face him. “I’m pissed at you for lying to me. For keeping this from me.”

“I couldn’t let you walk into the ring with this knowledge on your shoulders. It would distract you, and you know it.”

The son of a bitch was right, but it didn’t excuse what felt like a betrayal.

“So, what now?”

“We keep you out of the ring from now on. I worded the deal specifically, Callan. You would have to die in order for him to win. As long as you don’t fight, that can’t happen.”

Cold laughter shook my shoulders. “And why would he be stupid enough to agree to that?”

Franklin’s expression fell, the truth dropping him back into his seat as if his legs wouldn’t hold him up any longer.

“Because everyone knows how addicted you are to fighting. Even Moritze. And I’m willing to bet he’s not-so-patiently waiting for the day you break down and walk into that ring again. He thought he had you with the last guy. You should have seen his face when you snapped that asshole’s neck. He knows you’ll need to fight again. It’s just a matter of time.”

Granted, it was a problem. I was in that ring at least once a month, twice if I was in a particularly shitty mood.

But maybe there was a solution all of us could live with, at least until I figured out how to take down Moritze.

“I won’t fight until this is handled,” I told him, still seething that he’d kept this from me for so long.

Franklin looked up at me like I was as much of a liar as him. “And how, exactly, do you plan to manage that?”

My grin was anything but friendly.

“By giving into my addition for something else, at least until the day I get to release all my built up tension by gutting Moritze alive and pulling out his intestines to use as the rope that strangles him. I refuse to let this go.”

Fortunately for all of us, I had another addiction I could turn to.

A particular woman.

A thorn in my side.

A Rose that by any other name would still smell as sweet...even if she was a giant pain in the ass that drove me mad.

Lisbeth

I woke up in the morning more confused than I’d ever been. Callan was absent from the room, and I could see the signs that he’d been up already and left. The moisture in the bathroom from when he’d showered, his closet door slightly open

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