Seducing His Fiancée

Chapter Twenty-One: Broken

Rose woke up in complete and utter elation, a feeling that seemed so foreign to her. She turned around to face Vincent's sleeping form and couldn't help but admire how childlike he looked. She had always thought those scenes in romantic dramas where people longingly stared at their lover as they slept were creepy, but finally understood the context now that she became one of them.

She turned into a hopeless romantic. This transformation was somewhat of a miracle since Noah happened. After him, no one had managed to pry her out of her shell quite like Vincent had – not even Eli. Fearing that he'd wake up and catch her staring, she slowly turned back around and gently swung her legs off the edge of the mattress, careful to not wake him. She couldn't help but giggle at how the mattress had been slightly displaced from the bed frame. He knew how to push her to pure ecstasy, a feat that few men had accomplished.

Her slender arms threw apart the curtains, allowing the warm sunshine to caress her skin through the thin pajama top she wore. Of course, it belonged to him and fit her more like a dress. The sun barely peaked through the immense skyscrapers that surrounded the penthouse. Wanting to bask in the beautiful day, she opened the door to his massive balcony, which seemed to surround the perimeters of the luxurious condo. What she expected to be a light breeze blew in stronger than she had expected, causing the curtains to violently billow. A noise from inside prompted her to shift her attention back, which then turned into panic as a manila folder spilled its contents onto the floor. She hastily shut the doors and started chasing those papers.

Mindlessly, she started stuffing the papers back into the folder, until one particular photograph caught her attention. It was of her, taken as she bought coffee from La Colombe. Confusion contorted her pleasant features as she began shifting through the papers, one-by-one. Her daily schedule, places frequently visited, likes and dislikes – even people she interacted with! Her hands began shaking as her mind failed to process what she was seeing.

Her head snapped up as Vincent groaned and shifted around in the tangled covers. He lazily turned to face her with a sloppy smile plastered across his face.

"Good morning, love." He greeted her in a husky voice, the sleep not quite worn off.

There were a few seconds of silence as she locked eyes with him, petrified. His gaze flicked between her eyes and the papers in her hands, the smile on his face soon fading.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

A series of panicked profanities ran through his mind as it raced to rectify the situation. Things were just getting good; he couldn't let everything go to ruins now.

"Rose—"

"What is all this, Vincent?" She interrupted him with a shaky voice that fizzled out into the rest of her trembling form.

This can't be happening.

"I need you to trust me, okay? Before I start explaining, please just promise that you'll trust me."

She slowly put the folder down.

"I need you to explain first."

He sighed, not being able to see any way out of it. He had yearned to be transparent with her and now was his chance, although it was in less than ideal circumstances.

"It's your portfolio."

"And much more. Why do you have this?"

"My father had it made."

"Using a PI?"

He nodded while running a hand through his messy hair, "Yes. I know it sounds horrible and creepy, but please hear me out."

Her expression was accusatory, one that brought him such pain and discomfort that he wanted to curl up in the blanket and never see the light of day again. She was about burst at her recently stitched seams. This time, she didn't know if the patchwork could be done again. But she heard him out.

"I'm listening."

So he went on to tell his story. He started from the beginning, detailing his strained relationship with his father and his surprise at the personal invitation to his office. He told her about Sinclair Group being on the brink of financial ruin had the competitors' merger gone through. She pieced everything together by the time the topic of her and Eli's engagement came up.

She held her hand up, effectively silencing him.

"So you used me."

His face contorted into one of such pain that she almost felt guilty. Almost.

"No. I mean, initially, I did approach you with an ulterior motive, I'll admit to that. You were never my target, it was always Eli. But that has nothing to do with our relationship anymore, I swear. I wouldn't have continued this if I didn't genuinely feel attracted to you."

She stared at him blankly. She knew how she wanted to react, but couldn't bring herself to do it. She was disgusted with herself for still wanting him, for finding him so impossibly attractive in his moment of vulnerability, for craving his touch at that very moment. She wanted more than anything to jump back in that bed with him and pretend that nothing had happened.

But sweeping her problems under the rug never got her very far.

She would take this issue head on this time.

"Vincent, there's so much on my mind right now. But a lot of it concerns Eli. You cheated me in such a way that your scheme reached beyond me to hurt him too. I need some space, just to sort everything out before I do or say something I regret later."

"Rose, I—" He started to approach her, only to be cut off.

"Stop! Don't come any closer. I'm honestly just so disgusted with myself right now. It's my fault for being so vulnerable, for not heeding everyone's warnings. I swore I wouldn't be cheated on again. I sealed myself off and put up all those barriers for a reason. It was stupid of me to let them down, to have trusted you."

"Rose please, I'm so sorry. It's not your fault, it's all mine." He was on the verge of tears.

Seeing him on his knees, groveling, brought her no pleasure. She had to leave. Reluctantly, she grabbed her clothes and ran into his bathroom. She turned the shower and the tap on, hoping it would drown out the sobs she struggled to hide from him. She couldn't help but study her messy reflection with nothing but pity. Discomfort, pain, mistrust, guilt and disgust shrouded her senses all at once. After the initial shock had worn off, she put on a strong face and changed into her clothes. She opened the door to face Vincent in the same shameful position, too humiliated to look up at her as she passed by him.

He only spoke up when she turned the doorknob, "Rose, I love you."

She shut the door behind her.