Rose (The Billionairess, #1.5)

Chapter 19: A History Lesson

I shut my bedroom door behind me and buried myself in my sheets. I tried to restrain it, but I couldn't stop the tears trickling down my cheeks and the sobs coughing up my throat.

I felt dirty all over, the kind of dirty a bath couldn't fix. I broke the ultimate rule no dominant should ever break. My slave said Mercy, and I didn't yield. I almost hurt my precious baby. I almost hurt the one good thing I had.

I buried my face in my pillow and wrapped my arms around it.

Then, I heard a knock.

Thomas had followed me back to the bedroom. I wasn't sure why, given how I almost hurt him, how I've handled him tonight.

"Mistress?" he said.

I heard him open and close the door. He listened to his footsteps as he approached the bed. I could sense him hovering over me.

"Mistress," he said softly.

I didn't respond. What could I even say? He felt him move closer and he placed a hand on mine. His warm, gentle hands.

I glanced up at him from the pillow. I didn't want to know what I looked like at that moment. I didn't want him to see me like this.

He leaned forward and cupped my face in his hands.

"Mistress, are you okay?"

I couldn't bring myself to lie to him. I shook my head.

"Thomas," I said. "I'm...so sorry..."

I could feel hot tears streaming down my face. I tried to hide my face, but Thomas wouldn;t let me.

"Mistress, please stop crying" his voice was so gentle. Why was he being nice to be after what I almost did? "It's okay."

"I...almost lost control..."

"Mistress, it was a little slip..."

But sometimes a slip was all it took. I always took pride in myself being a good mistress. One who loved her slaves, who never hurt them in a way they did not want. And I almost did to the most perfect slave I ever had.

Thomas crawled into bed next to me. My body instinctively moved into his. I curled into him, my fists in his shirt. I nuzzled my face against the gentle flesh of his collar bones. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close.

"Tell me what is wrong, mistress" he said. There was a begging in his voice. "Tell me what it is between you and Tristen. What is it that makes it so easy for him to turn you into this? Why can he not just let us be?"

My mouth fumbled for words. I didn't know what to say, where to even start. But I realized all this secrecy, my attempts to keep Thomas separate from Tristen, for his protection and my own. It wasn't working. I needed to be honest with him.

I wiped my eyes and lifted my face to his.

"I supposed I've kept too much fom you, Thomas" I said. "Perhaps it's now time you learned the truth about me. About Tristen. About my past."

But I couldn't do it likw this. I couldn't talk about Tristen with Thomas's gentle touch on me. I stood up from the bed and moved towards the window. There was a leftover bottle of vodka and some glasses on the table. I poured myself on and brought it to my lips.

I took a deep breath, and started to tell my story.

"I was not born Rose Delacourt" I said. I pulled a cigerette out of the nearby drawer and lit it. I was going to need one to tell this story. "My name at birth was Hannah Steele."