The Vanity of Roses - Lily White Page 0,39

demanded we talk.

“Is there something I should know?”

“We won’t talk here.”

Franklin marched forward, his shoulder brushing my arm as he shoved past me toward the family suites, his leather shoes a clipped click against the marble floors.

If it had been about any other thing, I wouldn’t have followed him, but my curiosity couldn’t be helped. What was so important that he felt the need to stalk me and demand we discuss Lisbeth?

Stepping into the family suites, I waited for Franklin to take a seat before I leaned against a wall and crossed my arms.

“Talk.”

His expression was a mess of harsh lines and frantic shadows, his eyes locking on me as his lips pulled into a thin line.

“You were supposed to do your worst to her, and instead you’re playing with her?”

My brow arched as anger bled from his voice, but I didn’t move in response, didn’t allow my expression to change any more than that.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, for the first time showing me a side of him that was heated instead of cold.

“Anything I damn well please.”

He scoffed, a hand flying out as if it would wipe away my response.

“Don’t forget that woman is the reason your mother is dead. Don’t you dare fucking forget the way she treated you for all those years. Why are you being so soft on her? A maid? Seriously? Is that the best you can do? And now you want her up here?”

Angling my head, I grinned, the expression a warning.

“Was there something else I was supposed to do?”

“Yes. Throw her ass to Colton. Throw her in the fucking pit for all I care, but stop whatever game it is you’re playing now. She’ll crawl underneath your skin if you let her too close, and this time she might actually succeed in destroying you.”

Silence fell between us, thick and insidious. When I didn’t respond to the demands he’d tossed out, Franklin gathered control of himself, his expression transitioning back to a bored mask while his eyes still burned with barely repressed anger.

I knew he hated Lisbeth just as much as me, but for him, this was over the top. It made me wonder what had driven him to this level of irritation.

“We both know how you felt about her, Callan. My only concern is that you’ll forget that I brought her here for you to destroy her. Not for you to go soft and ask that she dust a few things and wipe down windows.”

The conversation would have continued if not for the squeak of wheels coming down the hall, the bump of a cart over a flaw in the marble floor. Franklin’s eyes tore from me to look out the door, his body tensing as Lisbeth stepped through.

She paused as soon as her eyes caught sight of Franklin, but when she turned her head to look at me, a visible tremor ran over her shoulders, those blue eyes widening with fear dancing behind them.

Franklin stood from the couch, a warning glare shot at me before he stormed from the room to charge down the hall, Lisbeth’s stare following him with so much contempt that I almost smiled.

It seemed we weren’t the only ones with hatred pouring out of us. Lisbeth felt it, too.

The cart squeaked again as she pushed it further into the room, her eyes surveying a space that had already been cleaned this morning.

I was nothing if not a gentleman. Seeing her confusion as to what to do, I decided to help her out.

Stepping over to the fireplace, I glanced back to see she was watching me intently, her fingers curled over the handle of the cart so tight the knuckles were drained of color.

The mantel was filled with the usual odds and ends: candles, flower vases, a bunch of bullshit that meant little to me.

I swept my arm across the length of it and knocked all that shit to the floor.

Glass shattered at my feet, a silver candleholder rolled across the plush area rug, water splashed, and fresh flowers from the morning snapped at the stems, the rose petals scattering all over.

Lisbeth’s eyes narrowed on the mess I’d made, her lips falling open in surprise, but then that gaze lifted up to me. I didn’t miss how her fingers tightened over the cart, how her trembling shoulders stilled with rage.

I grinned to see it.

Stepping to the couch, I ground the mess into the carpet with my boots before taking a seat on the couch and lifting my

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