BENEATH HIS COLD REVENGE

Rose's enemy had seen her naked. He was holding the proof right before her eyes, and her stomach lurched sickeningly. She ran to the bathroom and remained kneeling in misery after throwing up in the toilet for the second time that morning.

"Seems like you had too much to drink last night," he remarked in that condescending tone he always used with her. She looked up at him as he stood watching her from the doorway with his attitude of superiority. It was too much the nausea, him witnessing her puking, his possession of that terrible picture. In that moment of weakness, she actually tried to plead with him. "Please. I've never done anything to you. Please."

"Begging me on your knees. That's a good start."

Dread turned her clammy skin cold. Victor Hale hated her guts, and he would have no compassion for her. This was bad. This was really, really bad.

"Clean yourself up," he commanded. "In fact, take a shower. I don't want you getting in my car smelling like crap."

"Your car?" she asked in confusion, not understanding why he would allow her into his car. That was the last thing she would have expected from him.

"I'll take you with me since I'm here," he explained, "but you'll have to find your own way home."

"From where?" she questioned warily.

"My house," he replied. "You're going to clean it. Every week," he added.

She was beginning to comprehend that he was blackmailing her into doing this, and she felt relieved at first. It meant that he couldn't show the picture to anyone if he wanted her to comply with his demands. She had been terrified of him putting it out there for everyone to see.

"Get up and get in the shower," he snapped. "I'm not waiting around for you all day."

She pushed herself up to stand on her feet and awkwardly waited for him to leave the bathroom.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" he demanded.

A horrible realization sank in, and her voice trembled when she spoke. "I can't do it with you here."

"You'll do whatever I tell you to," he said. "But I don't have to be in here to see you naked." He held up his phone to emphasize his point. "So I'll let you get undressed alone. Your uniform will be on the bed."

"Uniform?"

"Just put it on," he told her impatiently and walked out of the bathroom.

She closed the door behind him and pushed the toilet lid down to sit wearily with her head in her hands. Despair washed over her as she thought about her sudden, inescapable predicament. Why had she drunk so much? Because Sophia had prodded her to keep drinking. It was just the two of them here having a good time. Best friends. Laughing and dancing around to the music Sophia had put on, drinking and cutting loose.

Sophia had betrayed her. She had let Victor Hale in here while Rose was intoxicated and apparently passed out, and he had taken a picture of her after someone removed all her clothes. She had been naked when she stumbled out of bed this morning and puked her guts out in the toilet, and Sophia had been standing in the hallway afterwards and solemnly told her to get dressed.

"Why did I take my clothes off?" she had asked. "Did I throw up on them?"

"Victor is here," Sophia said instead of answering her. "He wants to talk to you."

She immediately thought of Victor Hale, but Sophia couldn't be talking about him. He wasn't part of her social circle, and he certainly wouldn't come to her house to seek her out. "Victor who?" she asked.

"Hale," Sophia replied. "Hurry up and get dressed. He knows you're awake, and I could barely get him to wait five minutes."

She gaped at her, but Sophia gave her a desperate shove. "Now, Rose! He'll be coming out here in a minute."

She hurried back into Sophia's room to throw her clothes on as a whirlwind of questions swirled in her mind. She heard Sophia holding him off outside in the hallway as she pleaded with him to give her another minute.

"What's the difference? I already saw everything last night," he said.

She fumbled with the clasp on her bra as her heart raced. She had just pulled on her shorts when he came barging into the room. With a shriek, she grabbed her shirt and held it in front of her chest. His striking silver-gray eyes regarded her coldly. "It's a little late for that. You sure weren't modest last night."

He showed her the picture on his phone. It was her sprawled out naked on the bed with her legs spread open to reveal a part of her body that no boy had ever seen before. Victor Hale was the first, and now he could show it to all his friends, to the whole school even. He certainly hated her enough to humiliate her like that.

She had dropped the shirt and run to the bathroom to vomit again. She was still a pathetic mess sitting here on the toilet in her bra and shorts. She hadn't been able to find her panties in her haste to get dressed.

She jumped at the sudden sound of pounding on the door. "What are you doing?" Victor demanded. "Get in the d*mn shower or I'm coming in there."

She sprang up and quickly turned on the water in the shower. She hesitated to take her clothes off, not trusting him not to walk in anyway, but taking too long would guarantee that he would. So she stepped out of her shorts and took off her bra before hurrying into the shower and the privacy afforded by the shower curtain.

Washing away the clammy sweat from her skin made her feel a little better, and she rallied a bit. Anger started to course through her. She had never hated Victor before, but what he had done was despicable. And Sophia...

What she had done was even worse. She had been her friend, and she had stabbed her in the back. How could she do this to her, Rose thought bitterly. Her suspicion was that it had to do with her desire for popularity. She had told her that they weren't worth it, that the popular crowd was shallow and mean, but she still watched them with envy in her eyes. Victor must have promised her entry into their group if she got her drunk and let him take a nude picture of her.

Tears of shame and hurt welled up in her eyes, and she cried uncontrollably. What was she going to do? Victor was going to make her life hell with that horrible picture. She had just lost her best friend, and she had no one to help her.

Her sob turned into a gasp when the water shut off and the curtain was yanked open. She flung one arm across her breasts and thrust her other hand down between her legs to cover her privates. Victor's eyes lingered on her body before taking in her teary face.

"Get out and dry off," he commanded, holding a towel toward her.

Reaching for it would require exposing herself to him. "Put it on the vanity," she said.

He complied and then crossed his arms as he planted his feet firmly in place. "Come out and get it."

"Leave. Please," she added grudgingly.

"If you'd rather have me watch you touch yourself, that's fine with me."

Her face flamed with heat, and he used it against her. "Is that one of your fantasies?" he enquired.

vVictor looked at Rose with disgust.

“Is that why you undressed for me last night? Do you want to follow in your mother’s footsteps?”

It was like he had dumped a cold bucket of water over her head. All of her life, Rose had strived to be the opposite of her mother. She looked so much like her that people sometimes mistook them for sisters, so she did everything she could not to act like her until last night. It was a mistake that had cost her dearly.

She stiffened and looked him in the eye. “I’m nothing like her.”

Stepping carefully out of the tub while trying to keep all her privates covered, she moved her arm from her breasts to snatch the towel. She held it against her and finally moved her hand off the juncture between her legs to wrap the towel around her.

“Of course you are,” Victor told her. “You’ve got the body to be a stripper too.”

He smiled viciously at her surprised expression. “Yes, I know all about her illustrious past. With her good