Chapter 3 Patio, midnight

“What…what are you doing here?” Roselle stuttered. He was shirtless, reclining on the pool seat, a glass of wine in hand.

“I didn't think there was a problem with taking a rest by the pool in my brother's house,” Austin answered. It was Roselle's third encounter with Nicholas' brother, but she still felt uncomfortable in his presence.

She felt uncomfortable around all of them. Their presence bothered her, but she couldn't complain. She wouldn't.

She restrained her eyes from wandering over his body at all, as she stared at the bottle of wine sitting on the ground instead.

“I didn't mean it like that,” she said.

“Amazing,” he quipped, “Now, why were you trying to escape? It's your first night with my brother, you should be excited.”

“I…I wasn't trying to escape,” she lied, keeping her gaze lowered as she floated in the water, her hands on the edge.

“It's okay, I would try to escape, too. My family's clearly dysfunctional,” he laughed, but Roselle didn't join him.

“Loosen up,” he prodded “Do you want some wine? It'll do you a lot of good,” he raised his glass in the air, as the dark liquid moved around in a circular motion.

Roselle eyed the drink for a little while, before looking away.

“I don't bite,” Austin said, “here,” he stretched out even closer to her.

In the evening lighting, Roselle noticed a gold tooth of Austin's, which stuck out like a sore thumb.

“I can't,” she answered, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Why not?” He leaned back into his seat.

“I don't drink,” she simply answered.

“There's absolutely no need to be modest around me. Save that for your husband. Everybody drinks.”

She couldn't convince him, so she stayed silent.

“You really don't, do you?” He asked after a while, narrowing his eyes at her, and she shook her head in the negative, slowly feeling the cold creep up her skin. She wanted to get out, but not with him watching.

“Your neck is covered in goosebumps. Considered stepping out of there?” he asked, as if reading her mind. “Nicholas must be waiting for you.”

“I – “ Roselle started, but the words failed her.

“I'll look away, if that makes you happy,” he immediately placed his hands over his eyes and turned around. Roselle smiled to herself as she got out and wrapped herself in the towel.

“I…I'm covered,” she said, suppressing a smile.

“Great.”

A short moment of silence hovered in the space between them, as Roselle took a seat on the chair next to him. The only sound that could be heard was the soft rippling of the water before them.

“What's your deal?” The question caught Roselle off guard, as a quizzical expression sat on her face. She didn't realize what he was asking her.

“Pardon?”

“Oh, are we playing clueless?”

“I don't know what you're talking about?”

“Isn't it obvious? You suddenly show up, married to my brother, without a forewarning. Even you would be curious? What was the deal?”

Roselle sighed, her shoulders slumped as she looked everywhere, but at Austin, whose gaze hadn't left her. She hadn't imagined that their conversation would take such a turn.

“Honestly, I'm just as clueless as you are,” she shrugged.

“What was it I heard about your family being wealthy? Still no clue?”

“I wouldn't try running away, if I made a conscious deal,” Roselle answered, her voice shaky, as she fidgeted with her wet hair.

“So why are you here? Why did you agree to be here in the first place?”

“I didn't. I don't know,” she managed to answer, her voice distant.

“How convenient.”

They both sat in silence, as Austin emptied his cup. Eventually, he went into the pool, and Roselle couldn't help the relief that came with having someone to talk to, regardless of how their conversation was.

“I think I'll go in now,” she said as she got off her seat, tightly holding the towel around her body.

“Have fun,” he called after her, followed by splashing of water, as she walked into the house.

As she walked in, Roselle  could not shake off the uncomfortable feeling creeping up her skin. It was beyond dysfunctional - Nicholas' family was strange.

She made it into her room, glancing around, before plopping down onto her bed. She knew Nicholas would not come looking for her. She wasn't expecting anything intimate with him, as she was sure he had other girls on the side.

Her mind wandered back to the lady he was with, before they left for the event, and a sigh escaped her lips.

Just as she was about to take a shower, she stumbled on a folded piece of paper, carefully tucked in between the folding in her towel. She looked around, but the room was empty, so she picked it up and opened it, settling on the bed.

“Nothing is as it seems, in this house,” it simply read.

Her face creased into a frown. Roselle didn't want any trouble or drama, so she reluctantly set the paper on the bed. But just then, she saw some words scribbled on the flip side of the paper.

Patio, midnight.

The only thing she could decipher, was that the sender wanted to meet with her. She couldn't tell who they were, and why they wanted to help her.

She had her bath, and spent the remaining few hours tossing and turning around, as sleep eluded her.

Roselle couldn't help, but think about the letter. She picked it up from the night stand, and went over it again.

Glancing at the clock, the time read 11:34. She had only a few minutes to decide on whether or not she would go.

In about twenty minutes, she pulled herself off the bed, her heart in her hands as she quietly slipped out of her room. From Carla's tour earlier, she knew where the patio was, and made her way there.

She could see the expansive patio with floor to ceiling windows and doors. Plush chairs surrounded a fire pit. It was cozy. As she was just about to walk in, she got pulled away by the hand.

She gasped as she was face-to-face with her husband, Nicholas. His gaze bore into her, the longest it had ever.

“What are you doing out here, this late?” He asked, his voice low.

“I…I just…the air,” she stuttered, her eyes lowering gradually.

“Do not lie to me, Roselle Fitzgerald,” he sneered. She lifted her eyes to him, confused.

“I thought I'm Roselle Nicholas now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Save it. Get back into your room, and don't leave unless I say so.”

Roselle's eyes trailed down his shirtless frame, and her eyes widened slightly.

“It's just a bit quiet in there,” she whispered, hoping he hadn't heard her.

“That shouldn't be a problem to me,” he spat, before walking away and leaving her questioning her own morals.

Roselle had always been a shadow of her father's decisions and commands, she never had a word of her own. And now, it was most likely going to be the same way with Nicholas.

Sighing, she took one quick glance around the patio, and on seeing it was empty, she strutted to her room.

He had asked her what she was doing out there, but she never got the chance to ask him. Roselle found herself asking more questions.

It couldn't have been Nicholas who dropped the paper. But he was the only one there.

Was he also going for answers? Roselle thought it was unlikely, as that was his house.

Who and where was this anonymous person?

It was the second time she was receiving the warning about the house in a single day. The first, being Miss Cherry.

Miss Cherry!

It had to be her. Roselle sat up on her bed, and contemplated giving her a call. But she was worried that Miss Cherry might be asleep.

Why was she warning her, and what about? Roselle  couldn't tell. Being a maid in the house, meant she knew much more than Roselle, who had spent only a day. But was she to be trusted?

Although she was her personal maid, Roselle  discarded the idea of calling her that late, and decided to wait till morning.

As her head hit the pillow, she felt the pull of sleep gradually consuming her, and she allowed herself to be drowned by the soothing feeling.

But just then, she heard her phone's notification sound. So she rubbed her eyes and grabbed her phone, hoping it was Debbie.

But it wasn't.

It was a message from an unknown number, and when she opened it, all traces of sleep from her eyes cleared.

It was a picture.