Bloody Rose

One hell of an actress

Rose’s POV

I blinked profusely, trying to calm my racing heart as I held onto Zena’s hand so tightly, as if letting go would send me straight into danger. I needed her. I needed something solid in a world that always felt like it was collapsing around me.

“K… Keith, you are back,” I stuttered, forcing a smile that did not feel real on my face.

Keith did not respond.

He walked in like I was not even there, removing his suit jacket and tossing it carelessly onto the bed. His eyes shifted briefly between Zena and me, unreadable and cold, before he walked into the adjoining closet without saying a word.

My entire body trembled.

I held onto Zena even tighter, as if she were the only thing keeping me from falling apart completely. My chest felt tight, my thoughts spiraling out of control.

“Calm the hell down,” Zena whispered sharply.

But her words barely reached me.

“How can I be calm when he might have overheard everything we just said?” I whispered back, my voice breaking.

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it from the next room. I kept praying silently, begging for the universe to spare me from what Keith would do if he found out about our plan.

Then suddenly, everything shifted.

Keith walked out of the closet.

Shirtless.

Calm.

Completely unreadable.

I froze instantly.

He walked toward me as if nothing unusual had happened, leaned down, and kissed me softly on the cheek.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” he asked gently, his fingers brushing my face as he cared.

I froze even harder.

My mind struggled to process the change in his behavior. One moment, he felt like danger itself. Next, he was acting like a loving husband.

I turned my eyes toward Zena, hoping she was seeing the same confusing scene. But when I looked back at Keith, he was still smiling softly at me.

“Sweetheart, did you have a good day?” he asked again, kissing my cheek once more.

I nodded slowly.

I did not trust my voice. I did not trust anything in that moment.

“I see your sister Zena is here as well,” he said casually, walking toward the bed.

“Yes,” I mumbled, my voice barely steady. “She came to see me.”

“Good,” he replied, turning toward her now. “Hi dear Zena. Have you come to check if I am hitting my wife?”

His tone was almost playful.

But his eyes were sharp.

Zena straightened immediately.

“Keith… your expression says everything. I do not need to ask questions,” she said firmly.

There was a long pause.

Then Keith laughed.

A low, mocking laugh filled the entire room.

“Oh dear sister-in-law,” he said, stepping closer. “You know your sister here is very clumsy. She just fell. That is all.”

His eyes flicked toward me as he said it.

Something in my stomach twisted painfully.

“Baby,” he said softly, turning back to me. “Tell your sister you fell.”

I swallowed hard.

My throat felt dry.

I could feel Zena watching me, waiting, hoping I would say something stronger. Something honest.

But I could not.

“Zena… I fell,” I said quietly, staring at the floor.

A heavy silence followed.

Keith smiled like he had won something.

“You see?” he said smoothly. “Nothing to worry about. You should leave now before you start creating stories that do not exist.”

I looked at Zena desperately.

My eyes begged her not to go.

Not like this.

Not when I was still so unsure of what Keith might do once she was gone.

But Keith’s voice suddenly dropped, colder now.

“I said, leave my damn house.”

The shift in his tone made my entire body flinch.

I felt it immediately.

The change.

The danger.

Zena looked at me one last time, her eyes full of pain and helplessness, but also reassurance. She squeezed my hand briefly, silently telling me to stay strong.

Then she let go.

And she walked away.

The moment the door closed behind her, I felt something inside me collapse.

Empty.

Empty.

“I do not want her back in this house again,” Keith said calmly beside me.

My lips trembled.

“But she is my only family,” I whispered.

He turned to me slowly.

“Oh, darling,” he said softly. “Did you forget that I do not like being questioned?”

Before I could react, he grabbed my arm tightly.

Pain shot through me instantly.

His fingers dug into my skin like a warning.

“She is not allowed in this house again. That is final,” he said near my ear.

I nodded quickly.

Not because I agreed.

But because I wanted the pain to stop.

He released me suddenly and pushed me onto the couch as if I weighed nothing.

Then he walked back into the closet like nothing had happened.

I sat there trembling, holding my arm, trying to breathe through the pain that lingered on my skin.

I closed my eyes.

I let the darkness pull me in again.

It was the only place I ever felt anything close to peace.

But then his voice cut through it.

“Get ready. We are going to an event gala tonight,” Keith ordered.

*

I hated events like this.

But I was used to them.

It was my life now.

Being Keith’s wife meant performing. It meant dressing up, hiding bruises, and pretending everything in my life was perfect when it was anything but.

It meant smiling when I wanted to cry.

It meant waving when I wanted to disappear.

I had become very good at pretending.

At the venue, I stepped out of the car holding onto Keith’s arm as camera flashes exploded around us. Paparazzi shouted our names from every direction.

“Mr. and Mrs. Richards! This way, please!”

“Mr. and Mrs. Richards, smile for the cameras!”

The noise was overwhelming.

The lights were blinding.

I forced my lips into a practiced smile.

Showtime.

I whispered it to myself as I lifted my hand and waved gracefully.

We were the couple of the year.

At least according to the world watching us.

Inside the hall, everything looked perfect. Crystal lights, expensive decorations, and people who smiled too widely as they greeted us like we were royalty.

I played my role flawlessly.

The quiet wife.

The trophy.

The decoration beside a powerful man.

I spoke very little, letting Keith take all the attention while I nodded and smiled so much that my cheeks began to ache painfully.

I just wanted it to end.

To breathe again.

Eventually, we were seated as the event began.

I tried to focus on anything else, anything to escape my own thoughts, but then I saw her.

A red-haired woman.

She took the seat beside Keith as she belonged there.

She smiled at him too easily.

Too comfortably.

And under the table, Keith’s hand moved to her leg, resting there as if it was nothing unusual at all.

My chest tightened slightly, but not from jealousy.

From familiarity.

From numbness.

“She must be his new sidepiece,” I thought quietly.

And strangely enough, I felt nothing.

No anger.

No heartbreak.

Only pity for her.

Because I knew what loving Keith really meant.

The event dragged on for hours. I stayed quiet, exhausted, barely even pretending anymore. My mind drifted in and out as speeches continued and applause filled the room.

By the time it ended, I was relieved.

We were finally leaving.

But just as we stood up, one of Keith’s men leaned in and whispered something into his ear.

Everything changed instantly.

Keith’s expression hardened.

The softness disappeared.

His face turned cold, focused, and dangerous.

“Make sure you take my wife home,” he said firmly. “I have to handle something else.”

Before I could ask anything, I was quickly guided out of the hall and into the car.

Keith did not look at me again.

And then he was gone.