Page 99 of Their Dark Rose

“I don’t need a bigger rock.” I push the box into Mason’s hands, then offer him my left one. “This is perfect.”

“This still doesn’t mean we’re getting engaged,” Mason argues, but then he relents and slips it on my ring finger.

“See? Even the fit is perfect.” Admiring the ring, I twist my hand left and right. “We’re engaged.”

“We’re yours forever, flower.” Mason kisses my temple.

Falk reaches over, stroking my finger reverently. “And we will get you a better ring.”

“No.” I shake my head. “I’m wearing this one forever. Never taking it off.”

They exchange a look over my head. A grave one.

“Good.” Finn pulls my face to his. “Keep that promise, little rose. Until we get you a bigger one, never take it off your finger.”

“Stop it with the bigger one, please,” I urge him. I don’t need material things. I just need them. Always have.

“Maybe yes, maybe not.” Finn shrugs, smirking as he pulls away. “Just leave the ring on, Briar.”

Unlike his shady answer, my yes is a straightforward reply. I have no intention of parting from my engagement ring. Not now, not ever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

The washing machine alerts me that it has finished its cycle. I tend to save the laundry days for Friday, but this last week was different.

This week I’ve washed the sheets all around the house a lot.

This Wednesday will be the fifth day in a row.

Period sex is messy as hell.

These men didn’t hold back. They struggled with the concept that I wouldn’t be pregnant this month, a disappointment that lasted less than a second.

From the first day of my period to my last, today, they’ve been epically primal in bed. Something about the scent of blood and claiming me in every possible way turned them from wild beasts into rabid animals.

Them and me alike. Since I don’t get cramps, I loved seeing my blood on them. To have them rub it on my skin, licking it off me, and…

Shut up, kinky brain! We have to get ready.

Today is literally the worst day to be stupid-horny for them. I have to be focused. At the top of my motherfucking game.

There are no classes at home today. In its place, a much better, more interesting activity waits for me in a couple of hours. The men left about an hour ago for our office to get some work done before the big meeting today.

A meeting I’ll be attending as well. Sort of. Mallie and Thorn remain at large. Without any new results regarding the murderous part of my family, I’ve been staying here.

Safe at home, but not hiding.

In exactly two hours, my men will be at the investor’s offices across the city in Brookline. And I’ll be there through a video call. I’ll be listening in and learning how to pitch an idea and how to negotiate.

My face will be shown. I’ll be acknowledged as the owner and will be responsible for taking notes to go over later.

Bringing my A-game is the utmost priority for me. I’ll fuck everything up if I log on to the conversation with dicks on my mind.

I throw the now-clean sheets and pillowcases into the dryer, press start, and set out to go to my room. I want to shower, do my hair and makeup, and put on the elegant black dress I bought online for the occasion.

Sure, no one will notice the difference between a silk blouse and a dress on the screen. No one except me. Today will be the first time I’m included in an official meeting, and I’ll be damned if I wear my black yoga leggings for the occasion.

My dad hardly ever went to work. I remember him always being there. I also remember the shady people knocking on our door. They’d hand my father the white medicine powder and his and Mom’s prescription pills.

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