CHAPTER 03: RYAN

I couldn't stop replaying John' words while driving home. Pretend to love her. As much as I didn't want to, I knew that was the only way to dig up the information. Rose wasn't the kind of girl who'd tell her deepest secrets if you gift her diamonds. I've tried that, it doesn't work. I've gifted her branded bags, jewels, dresses, every girl dreams of getting but she doesn't accept any of my gifts.

𝘚𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵. Finn's voice echoed in my head from when I told him about this and how pissed I was. She wants to be loved by her significant other but you can't do that. Hell yeah, I won't. love becomes people's weakness and I won't let that one emotion become my weakness.

I needed to find a way to get that information out from her. I was getting pissed day by day. I didn't want to take John's advice because I knew I wouldn't fall in love with her but by pretending to love her, I didn't want to hurt her feelings. I didn't give two shits about people's feelings, I hurt people all the time. But in Rose's case, I couldn't hurt her because I promised her dying father that I won't hurt her and second, if I try to hurt her, I had Bree coming after me with death.

I turned my key inside the key hole and turned the doorknob after hearing the key unlock the lock. I entered the house. I lived in a luxury house, it was a double story one unit with a guest room, kitchen, dining hall, living room downstairs and bedrooms upstairs. Although, I made one of the bedrooms upstairs my office and the basement was my gym area where I usually went to squeeze out my anger and stress of the day. But since I've gotten married, I don't do that a lot because thanks to Rose, if I'm not present in a room, she starts panicking the hell out. She even called the cops once till I came upstairs and saw her talking to the cops.

She expects me to tell her everything, where I go, what I eat, what I do. I don't do that, that's my business and she has no right asking me about it. Of course, if Finn was here, he would've given me an unsettling response for 'being ungrateful'. I didn't want anyone checking up on me, especially not Ro-

"You're home." The soft voice echoed in the living room as I placed down my bag, the smell of roses surrounded the room. Somehow, just like her name, she smelled like Rose, she almost looked like it; tinted red lips, a shade of pink on her cheeks and always blooming.

"Yes," I answered, placing my hands in my pockets, taking her in. she stood by the dining hall door, she wore a beautiful pink dress which went down to her knees. Her hair was tied in a messy bun—which was not new, she always had her hair tied up in a messy bun when we were at home, it showed her perfectly drawn collar bone. Her green eyes locked with mine. She was the perfect girl people talk about in books and somehow I wasn't attracted to her at all.

"Dinner's ready," she spoke again, her voice light and soft "you should fresh up, I'll take out the food." After a beat, I nodded, took my bag and went upstairs to my room.

Most husbands would help their wife set up the table—even help them cook food, give them small pecks on their cheeks, foreheads, lips which would give their wives butterflies, ignite their love. I've been called a horrible husband for not doing those things—by my sister. She still expects me to show my love to her best friend, well, sadly I won't be doing that. She expects me to love her but I don't. I respect Rose, I respect her boundaries, we have kept our boundaries.

I suggested to have separate rooms but I got a kick in my leg from Bree for suggesting that. I see why, all couples share beds. I've shared my bed with Rose for 10 months and there are nights where I stay awake because she moves closer to me in her sleep to a point we were almost cuddling.

My shoulders tensed at the memory, she was so close to me when I opened my eyes the next day. She was using my chest as her pillow, she used me as a teddy bear, I was surrounded by her rosy scent. I didn't let that little cuddling session last long. I carefully got out of bed and she had no idea we almost cuddled.

Still, I wonder what would've happened if I stayed in the bed—with her—for more than a minute. What if I placed my arms around her and brought her closer to me? What if I buried my face in her hair? Would've that moment made me put down my armor? Show her all my scars, my darkest—deepest secrets. What if I stayed with her and told her everything? My past, my mistakes, my sins—would she see me as a good person? Would've she stay with me? Would she understand me? What if I—

I shook off my thoughts, I wasn't going to think about Rose in a different way. I respected Rose, I was, in no way, interested in her.

I turned off the shower, wrapped a towel around my waist and walked out of the bathroom. I walked to my closet and threw the door open. I took out a grey shirt—which I usually wore—with black sweats.

I quickly changed and made my way downstairs in the dining hall where Rose was finishing up setting the table.

She must've sensed my presence from the back because she froze half way putting down the plate. After a beat, she placed the plate on the table and turned.

Our eyes locked and I swear, whenever we locked eyes there was an electric connection which went up both of our body. We stayed still for a moment then she broke the eye contact and cleared her throat before saying "table's set."

Without saying another word, we both took our seat by the table—poured ourself some food and drink and ate silently. The only sound echoing in the dining hall was the clicking of our spoons.

We didn't talk during breakfast, lunch and dinner—hell, we didn't talk at all except for exchanging few sentences like 'good morning' 'goodnight' 'dinner's ready'. I didn't make any conversation with her although she always tried to pull our conversation to a long lasting moment.

After few moment of silence and peace, she placed down her spoon and placed her hands on her lap. I paused for a moment as she cleared her throat and asked "So, how was your day?"

I took a spoonful of rice and chewed silently. I swallowed then answered "fine."

I could almost hear her sigh, she was hopeless of getting a sentence out of me for her question but still she kept trying.

She picked up her spoon again and continued eating. I stole a glance at her, her eyes were stuck on her plate as she chewed and played with the rest of food present on her plate.

I knew I was a horrible husband, I didn't agree to this marriage because I wanted to love her. I agreed to this marriage because she knew something which was the only way to find out what her father was hiding. He knew something I didn't and whenever I brought it up, I could see sweat forming on his brow.

Why I thought Rose would know? Because he told her everything, she knew every secret of his, every game he played, they were best friends, never hid anything from each other.

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳. My grip tightened on the spoon at the memory of what John suggested. She'll tell you everything, even her darkest secrets. My jaw clenched. John's idea was horrible but it seemed like the only way to dig up information.

After a moment, I gathered my courage to start a conversation for the first time "How was your day?"

The expression on her face was worth seeing, her head jerked towards me, shock was written on her face. As I said, I never start a conversation.

After a few beats, she processed my words and lightly shook her head before answering "Good," she looked around the table before continuing "I, uh, finished a book," of course she did, she loves reading books.

She didn't say anything further probably because she knew I didn't care but I needed to get close to her, make her trust me.

"What was the book about?" another shocking expression.

"Oh, its about two people hating each other and then.." she went on with the story and plot of the book—it was a romance book—her favorite, of course—I listened carefully as a warm smile touched her lips when she told about the couple in the book falling in love—going on dates—everything couples usually did.

After she finished, I nodded and took a sip of my drink. I placed down my glass and wiped the side of my mouth with a napkin "Interesting. You seem really love this book."

"yes,"

"Good," I placed my napkin down and stood up from my chair, she stood up from her chair and started collecting the dishes, I watched her movements, how gently she picked up our plates and placed them over each other. Her engagement ring shined in her finger. I never saw her without it—except when we were heading to bed. There wasn't a single day that passed and I didn't see her wear it.

She realized I was standing for way too long as her head turned towards me "Is everything okay?"

"yes, um," pretend to love her. My hand turned into a fist inside my pocket at John's suggestion. I didn't want to do it but I was getting sick and impatient, I had the source in my house but I needed her trust first.

"I was wondering if.. you're free tomorrow night, you accompany me at a business event," I paused before adding "as my date."

Her eyes widened at my request. I always attended all my business events alone and she knew. She would spend those nights with her friends or help Bree take care of Sarah. I didn't want people asking me how or when I met Rose and how I fell in love with her. I wasn't in love with her and I won't be.

But if pretending to love her was the way to gain her trust so I could sleep peacefully—hell I hated myself for doing this but I needed to find out who was behind my brother's murder.