A/N: Once again, sorry for this being a bit late, school and me getting sick put this chapter on the back burner, but I'm okay now, just coughing a bit, but other than that I'm fine. Now on for the chapter (CW: mention of child loss at the end)

"Rosalie-" Olivier started before she cut him off again.

"Answer me, you fuck," she snapped. "What the fuck are you doing with Elijah's handwriting for a club at your casino?" The tears were threatening to fall, he can see it. She was trying to be strong and blocking him out, and whatever he was going to say to her was going to either break her or she'll just dismiss it, call him a liar and a murderer, and kick him out of her house.

Taking a deep breath, pinching his nose, he just decided to tell her the semi truth. "Your husband came to me, asking if he can put a club in the Belvedere, so you and your friends can come and have a good time. It will be away from the casino, and you won't hear the machines going off or smell the smoke each time people go over to the machines and smoke as much as they can."

Liar.

That word swam around Rosalie's mind as she looked down at the plans for a moment before turning back to him. "I don't believe you," she told him flatly, trying to hold in her anger. "Eli would never go to your damn casino, just to build a simple club for me. You're lying. That's it,' Rosalie said with a shrug. "You're fucking lying to me, right? Admit it."

"Look at the plans again and tell me if I'm actually lying to you."

Too angry to even care or see red, Rosalie turned back to the plans. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw his handwriting, each stroke of each letter and each sketch he made teared her up even more. The drawing had a drawing of a bar, where a huge rose would be in the background in the softest, creamiest red, the bottle of booze resting alone the rose in a line. The words "The Rose" will be in neon pink cursive, his own handwriting, and there was an official DJ booth with a Rose in the middle, like it was behind the bar. Her hand shook as she traced the letters of The Rose, her mind trying to believe what she was seeing.

"Why," Rosalie asked finally. "Why would he work with you, knowing damn well that I hate your casino and swore that I will never step foot in it?"

Olivier barked out a short laugh. "Because Eli wanted this to be your thirty-fifth birthday present, but he died before he can finish it. But he made a deal with me so that I can finish it for him so I can present it to you."

Oh, well isn't he a goddamn riot.

Each word that came out of this man's mouth she didn't believe, but seeing the plans for a club, just for her...the last time Elijah did before he died...that just made her more angrier. She had so many questions for him, and had a nerve to go to Greenview Cemetery just to yell at her husband. "Liar," she whispered, looking up at him. "You are nothing more than a goddamn liar, you know that? If my husband wanted to surprise me, all he had to do was tell me to pack or tell me to wear something nice for him. But this?" she spread her hand along the plans, the plans she didn't believe that Elijah made. "This just takes the damn cake. You're a goddamn liar, and a murderer, and I want you out of my damn house."

She started to walk off, but Olivier's annoyed growl stopped her as he sat back down and started pressing a couple buttons. "Are you deaf now too?" she asked with a small laugh. "I said, get your things and get the fuck out of my house!"

"You know, I keep thinking that you're this put together woman who can see the truth for what it is. But now all I see is a bitter woman who hates me because of what happened to her husband, and keeps bringing him up after he's been dead for three years as if he's not dead, comparing me to a dead man who only wants to make you happy, even from the grave!" Olivier shouted, clicking a couple more buttons until Sir Elijah popped up on his computer screen.

His words made her turn around, so angry that she wanted to personally throw him out of her house. "Bitter? You think I'm fucking bitter?" Rosalie growled at him before seeing her husband on the screen, making her stop short of what she was going to say. "Eli...jah?" she whispered as he pressed play.

The video starts with Sir Elijah, a man with a handsome face, bright blue eyes and dirty blonde hair. He wore a simple denim t-shirt and jeans, and a cup of whiskey was sitting in front of him. Rosalie recognized the background-it was the backyard of their summer home in the Berkshires, complete with the pool behind him.

"Hello, Rosie," Sir Elijah started, hands crossed on his lap. "If you're seeing this now, then that means that I'm dead, and that you're all alone. You're probably mad at me for leaving you like I did, and I don't fault you for that. It's close to your birthday, and I have a huge surprise for you. You're probably standing up now, wearing that robe that makes you look like a model, your hair in a mess after sleeping the way you do." At that, he chuckles a bit and shakes his head.

Rosalie nodded, her lips twitching into a smile. "I am," she whispered to the video. She was a tiny bit angry that he died, but after three years of trying to get over it, she still had that tiny bit of anger, but after seeing him now, on Olivier's computer, it disappeared the moment she saw him.

"But I need you to sit down for me, okay?" Sir Elijah gently instructed. "I have something to tell you, and I don't want you to get angry at me again."

She nodded as she slowly sat down at the edge of the desk. "I'm sitting down, honey,' she whispered, talking to the video as if he was actually here in front of her.

The video Sir Elijah sighed, taking a sip of his whiskey before he started again. "A couple weeks ago, I met up with Olivier Barthel, the owner of the Belvedere Casino, and we made a deal. Now before you start screaming at me, me and Olivier are old friends. We've been old friends since the Academy back in London, and you should trust him. Now here's the part you're not gonna like..."

"Damn right, I don't like it already," she hissed at him.

"I made a deal with him to own about thirty percent of the casino," Sir Elijah went on. "And along with this deal, I was going to build a club, just for you, so when you come by the casino, you can go to your own club with Astrid and Genevieve and have fun. But if anything happens to me, you are to get my shares of the casino, along with a trust fund of half of a million dollars (*after this video was filmed and he was killed, the trust fund has since quadrupled into three million dollars*). I know all of this right now is a shock, but I had to do it, Rosie. I hope you really don't hate me at the end for what I did, and that you know I love you with all my heart.

Oh, and Rosalie? I knew. And I'm sorry I'm not going to be there to raise our little one." With a kiss blown at her, Sir Elijah gave her his shining smiles. "Goodbye, Rosalie. I love you and our little one so much."

The video ended, and Olivier closed his computer before turning to her. He didn't say a word as the room was plunged into silence, and Rosalie was digesting everything she saw. He watched her run a shaky hand through her hair, stopping just to grip some of it.

Rosalie sat there, her hand creeping over her flat belly. So he knew. He knew this whole time and didn't say a damn word to her. He even made a deal with a man she can't fucking stand and became the half-owner of the Belvedere, something she didn't know she wanted now. It shook her for a moment as she tried to hold in her tears, but as she heard the chair scooted back and Olivier standing in front of her, it just...came. Every feeling she had, everything she felt for her husband now came out as she cried.

She couldn't stop it as she slid off the desk, shoulder's shaking as she looked up at Olivier, whose arms were crossed over his chest. "Do you believe me now?" he asked softly. He didn't move to touch her as she looked up at him.

With a trembling lip, Rosalie nodded. She moved away from him to walk out of the office, feeling it closing her in. "I'll be right back," she whispered, going to her room.

Leaning back on the door, staring at the huge california king's bed where she and her husband slept and made love in dozens of times stood, along with her vanity and his and hers bathroom. Staring at the vanity, she couldn't help but smile as she remembered the day he brought it in for her, saying that he wanted to see her sitting there naked every morning and every night, doing her makeup.

The bottle of Dior's Sauvage eau de toilette sat on her vanity-the scent Elijah wore all the time, and she went over and picked it up. Uncorking it, she took a deep whiff of it, squeezing her eyes shut as the memories associated with the scent made her think of him. Slowly, she raised it, ready to throw it, holding it in the air for a couple moments before she put it down.

"You bastard," she whispered, plopping down on her vanity chair and started to cry even harder. "You...you son of a bitch...you son of a bitch....I hat...I hate you." Getting up, she grabbed a pillow of his, a stitched horse pillow from his sister, and threw it at the wall. "I HATE YOU!"

Going to the bed, she flopped on it and cried deeply, letting out a mournful scream that was muffled, her hands tossing the pillows on the floor as she cried. She didn't care if Olivier was in the house, she didn't even care if it was the second day of the Derby.

The only thing Rosalie wanted to do that day was skip the whole damn thing and never show her face again, and curse her husband out a thousand times over for what he did to her, what he just revealed to her. "I hate you," she mewled as she cried some more, smacking the bed a couple times. Rosalie laid there for a moment, not hearing the door open as Olivier walked in and sat on the bed beside her, not saying a word for a moment.

"What happened to your...?" he asked, watching her sit up and look at him, her eyes red from crying.

Sitting up fully, she looked around for a pillow and picked it up from the floor. Rosalie pulled it close to her as she took a deep breath, hugging it close to her chest. "I lost it three days after I found out he was dead."