It was a week before the wedding. Such perfect timing.
"She's with child, about a month along…" the doctor had stated, his eyes flitting about nervously.
Cal had only smirked at him, shoving a considerable amount of cash into his palm before he escorted him to the door, warning him with dark eyes the confidentiality of the situation at hand.
Once he was gone, he turned to Ruth who had paled at the announcement.
"What do we do?' she whispered meekly, afraid that Cal would storm out of the mansion at any moment, leaving her and Rose to the mercy of the streets.
For a moment, he said nothing. Of course he had had no doubts that his fiance had acted promiscuously with the filth she had only known for two days, but the fact that she would bear his child delivered a blow to his ego he had not expected. Swallowing his pride, Cal knew that the wedding would resume. His rightful inheritance was so close he could taste it. Rose would be his bride, even if she was an ungrateful whore. She would simply deal with the consequences for her actions at a more convenient time for the both of them.
Turning his gaze to Ruth again, he grinned viciously, "The wedding is still on, without any doubts. I will deal with this little...upset…when a more appropriate time arrives…"
Cal saw relief wash over her face; the color return to her cheeks. Anyone would be a complete idiot to not know that she was using him for his money. Normally, he would never be so charitable. But for her darling daughter, he would give the world and more.
God, he was a fool.
Excusing himself he climbed the stairs to Rose's room, his shoes suddenly feeling as if they'd been filled with lead. He didn't bother knocking as he entered, letting out a scoff as he watched Rose scramble to cover herself as she sat at her vanity in her nightgown.
Cal wondered to himself what he could possibly say to the woman in front of him.
He knew how the conversation would play out: he would berate her for being the child she was and then he would only be compared to Dawson and be reminded with an icy harshness that he was loathed by the woman who, in a week, would be his wife. A cynical sneer appeared on his face as he basked in the dreary revelation.
He approached Rose, setting his hands on her delicate shoulders. He felt her tense beneath his touch.
"You know, this was how it was supposed to be...It was supposed to be us…" Cal mused as he admired his reflection in the mirror; the two of them together.
Rose's eyes flashed nervously as they met his.
"It wasn't supposed to be that you betrayed me, Rose…" he continued, his nails digging subconsciously into her porcelain skin as he tried to control his rising anger.
Rose yelped in pain as she tore herself away from him, red marks branding her shoulders.
"No amount of nostalgia will make me change my mind, Cal…"
"Oh?"
He waited for her to continue, for her tongue to douse him in its flames. Instead, she remained silent as she stared out the window, a hand rested gently on her abdomen. The tenderness of the scene made Cal feel ill.
"You'd better be out of your damn mind if you think I'll raise Dawson's bastard, Rose..." he continued passively as he lit a cigarette, watching her turn to him with a frown. A sense of gnarled giddiness filled him.
"Then it seems I no longer need your assistance, Mr. Hockley." she replied plainy, avoiding his gaze.
Cal laughed, the dark sound swallowing the afternoon light streaming in through the window as if the sun had been covered by a storm cloud.
"The wedding is still on without a doubt, Rose. The company is practically in my hands and a marriage certificate seals the deal. You will be my bride regardless of the current consequences of your actions…" He paused, suddenly feeling generous. "Of course you have the choice to leave. I won't hold you here like a prisoner… "
Approaching Rose, he continued, blowing smoke into her stony face with every condescending word. She wanted to vomit. "Just know that you'll be ruined. Everyone will know what a dirty, little slut you are before you can even set foot from this house… Because I will not have the filth of your mistakes on my hands!"
"This child wasn't a mistake…" she whispered meekly in reply, "The mistake is that I didn't run when I still had the chance..."
Where are you going? To him? To be a whore to a gutter rat?
She saw Cal's eyes flash with something almost hurtful at her words before his gaze turned lethal with a morbid obsidian glow. Rose felt her breathing quicken, fear paralyzing her. She knew his breaking points and he was dangerously close to losing all control.
She was taken back as he simply turned for the door, hissing with a final malevolent glance, his tongue serpentine, "You'll learn to be grateful if you expect that thing to live…"
xXx
The house was empty - except for the two of them.
Rose didn't dare meet Cal's eyes as she sat across from him, sipping her afternoon tea. She watched his anger simmering and stewing into a lethal concoction in his dark gaze. She could feel that he was focused on her, seconds too long… She had never felt so filthy.
"It seems your engagement ring has gone missing…" Cal snarled as he looked over Rose with narrowed eyes, taking a drag from his cigarette.
Tactically, she knew there was nothing she could say to him to please him in that moment. Offering him a smile she hoped that would suffice.
Tutting under his breath, Cal shook his head. Smashing his cigarette into a nearby ashtray, he stood, turning to look out the window at the falling rain outside.
"Perhaps your precious gutter rat tried to steal that too…" He chuckled to himself, suddenly amused.
He saw Rose flinch out of the corner of his eye. Approaching her, he observed how her shoulders tensed, how her breath hitched in her throat…
How dare she put up walls around him, give him tight-lipped smiles, say everything in that god-awful syrupy sweet voice of hers… She had never let him know how she really felt… And rather than open her heart to him as he had been so foolish to beg her for she had whored herself to that boy she had barely even known… She was an ungrateful slut and he had been foolish to give her another chance, make the same sacrifices again…
Cal felt something inside him snap… Or perhaps it had just clicked right into place…
His head was swimming, boiling with malice…
He almost wanted to smack her.
And then he did.
Rose felt the sting of Cal's hand on her cheek, the sheer force of his touch knocking her off of the couch, her teacup that had been in her hands crashing to the floor, the delicate porcelain shattered... Her forehead collided with the merciless mahogany of the coffee table, blood spilling from a fresh wound, staining the rug a deep red…
And then his hands were on her throat, his eyes wild with hate as he shoved her against the wall. The room shook as Rose's eyes clouded over with tears, she tried desperately to breathe, to scream…
But the house was empty - except for the two of them.
With all of the strength in him, Cal brought a fist against Rose's abdomen… Again… and again… and again… He felt her struggling against him weaken with each blow, her face turning a sickly shade of blue…
He wanted it gone, destroyed, reduced to a miserable puddle on the floor…
That filth would never let him lose… Not again…
I always win Jack, one way or another…
Rose felt the life draining from her slowly, her tears staining her cheeks, the taste of salt in her mouth…
If she was to die now, she would be glad… She would be with him again… They would have the life they had promised eachother…
There was a light approaching her, Jack's face coming so close she thought she could grasp it, feel his skin against hers again… She mirrored his smile…
And with her final breath her eyes snapped open.
The room around her was dark, sweat covering her in a dingy blanket…
It had been a dream… Only a dream…
Rose sighed with relief, placing a hand protectively against her stomach.
For now, they were safe.