Chapter 1

Rose's POV

The sun was shining. Little rays of pink and orange danced around my room, finding my closed eyes and waking me up. I felt refreshed. I'd gotten a great night's sleep. I put on my silk robe and slippers and walked into my powder room. Sitting on the counter was the most enormous bouquet of flowers I had ever seen. There was a card in the middle. It looked like the words were sewn in gold thread. The beautiful script read: Rose, My Dear. I marveled at the calligraphy.

The words "my dear" made my stomach churn. Cal Hockley just wanted to ruin my morning.

I opened the envelope gingerly and pulled out a letter written in blue ink. Still written in the prettiest writing I had seen. Each word flowed graciously to the next. I traced my hand over the writing, then began to read.

Rose,

Happy Birthday my darling! I love you so much. I have planned a dinner party in your honor. For just the two of us, I have planned a night filled with fun and games! I left you something to wear in the middle of the bouquet. Wear it tonight. I love you more than anything.

-Cal

Oh gosh! Today was my birthday. I had forgotten. I dug into the assortment of flowers and found another note. This one was written more plain and was on a single card. The word: NOTHING was written in all capital letters.

He wanted me to wear "NOTHING" tonight...

The words made my head hurt. I wasn't ready for this! I walked out of the powder room and I kicked off my slippers, I also threw my robe on the ground. My vision was blurry. I climbed back in bed. I wanted to fall asleep, but I was scared I would wake up with Cal lying next to me…ready to rip me apart.

Cal's POV

"Margaret?" A small blonde woman in a blue uniform came to me.

She asked in a meek voice, "Yes?"

I barked to her; making her flinch slightly, "Go check on Rose, and get her ready for this evening."

She squeaked in response, "Yes sir." She rushed up the stairs, looking back at me longingly. Then, she just ran faster. Never liked her much.

I walked down the long hallway; left of the stairs. That was where our wedding photos hung. I like one of them over all the others. The one of us kissing. It was a close up, and I looked ever so handsome in my tuxedo. And I looked even better with a woman like Rose on my arm. She looked heavenly. Yet, in the photo, she looked disgusted by me. She was probably thinking about Jack Dawson. He died. Rose grieved. I laughed.

I pulled out my pocket watch. "Three- ten" I mumbled to myself. Ruth and the other guests would be here soon. Rose was a big deal, so she should be treated like one. I walked out of the hallway and into the dining room. I saw the butlers and maids setting up the silver wear.

One of the butler's came to me and asked, "Is everything to your liking sir?"

I replied quickly, "Yes, yes." I'm wasn't hungry. All I could think about is having Rose for dinner. I wandered back to the stairs, and she came down. She was in the most beautiful blue and black dress. Her hair was in a elegant up-do...Each curl identical to the other, they bounced with life as she made her way down the stairs.

She cooed to me, "Hello Dear." She kissed my cheek. I stared at her in disbelief. I felt nervous as I escorted her to the dining room. Margaret was opening the door for Ruth and all our other friends and family.

The party was in full swing when I saw Rose get up and walk toward the long hallway leading to the stairs. I wondered why she was so upset...I got up from my chair, and went after her.

Rose's POV

I left the loud noise, and felt better when I heard nothing but distant chatter. I paced up and down the hallway looking at and studying our wedding photos. I never smiled in any of them. In all of them, my eyes only longed for Jack.

I heard someone call quietly, "Rose?" I turned around, hoping it wasn't Cal. But, I was relieved to see my mother dressed in a maroon and brown dress, with her beehive hair curled and placed to perfection.

I started, "Mother I-"

She finished for me, "Left?" She giggled, "Oh Rose. Why is it you leave the table ten times when we celebrate you?"

I argued, "I don't"

My mother responded, "You do, You left the table six times on your wedding day." She wasn't wrong. I had excused myself quite a bit during my wedding reception. I'm sure you would too if Cal was making cow eyes at you the whole time.

"I'm sorry." She just looked at me. Her eyes narrowed. She patted my shoulder and began walking back to the chatter of money. She stopped in front of the close up of Cal and I kissing. She turned back to me.

She stated plainly, "Jack is dead Rose." And then, she just kept on walking. A tear slipped down my face. I was angry. Another one fell, and my anger grew. Then, I bashed my fist into the glass frame, and pulled it out with shards stuck to the outside of my hand. The picture fell on the ground, and I stomped on it. Blood from my hand dripped onto Cal's face.

"Rose is everything alright?" Cal came running down the hall. He scoped the scene for a good five minutes. He smirked at me darkly.

He mocked, "Oh you bad girl, Rosie." He scooped me up into his muscular arms.

"No! Cal!" I whined. I pleaded for him to drop me, but he just ran up the stairs. He went into our room, and flopped me on the bed.

Cal demanded, "Don't move." I did as I was told, and I watched as he scurried around the room. He opened a box and unscrewed a jar. He smeared something from the jar onto a cloth and hurried back to me.

I protested, "Cal what-" He shoved the cloth in my face. I inhaled and everything went blank.

I had become his puppet.