ROSES ON FIRE

RiccardoSicily, Palermo“Relax baby and give it to me as you always do. You are a God at this. What is happening? Is everything ok with you?”I heard the woman next to me speaking and instead of calming me, it left my blood boiling. What the hell was wrong with me? Without thinking, I pushed her off me and got out of bed.I didn't need this additional burden right now. I had been feeling like a zombie, going through the motions with no energy. As Maura took in her surroundings, she noticed something was amiss.“Get dressed and get out of my house!” I ordered her without a thought for her emotions. I had no regard for any woman, and I showed it through my actions. None of them could pry the beast out of me, no matter how hard they tried.She knelt on the crumpled sheets, her gaze heavy-lidded as she stared at me. “But Riccardo...” Out of nowhere, a wave of darkness filled my mind. No one ever asked anything of Riccardo Serratore, least of all a w*ore.I couldn’t control anymore and

Riccardo“Hey, my man, you came back!” When I saw my cousin again, it was unlike anything I’ve experienced so far, even if he wasn’t long gone. “But of course, I did. What were you thinking? That you can get rid of me that easily?” I had really missed his jovial voice. Fabrizio was three years younger than me, which is why he was perhaps the most protected after the death of our parents. Apart from Aida, I was like his mother and father. With one smooth gesture, I jokingly pushed my cousin and then, in an act of pure love, I put my arms around him, patting him on his back.“Gosh, Fabrizio, you’ve only been gone a week and so much has changed in the area,” I said with a bitter smile on my face. My cousin was more loose, yet sometimes he seemed the most mature of the two of us, given my background. “What do you mean?” A little trace of perplexity appeared on Fabrizio’s calm face.“For starters, Aida is gone!” The news fell like a bomb in the middle of a battlefield. It still affect

ClarissaI simply couldn’t control my tears and now they came out like waterfalls. It was a part of my life that I wanted so badly to forget, to bury so deep in my mind that it would be lost forever. I wanted my subconscious to repress that tragedy. Sometimes I had nightmares and would still wake up screaming and sweating, but then I would tell myself that I was fine, that I was in the safety of my own home and that no one could hurt me or Skyler anymore. I never went to therapy, but not because Hannah wouldn’t insist on it for me, but because I was sure I could get through it on my own. Never pressed charges against him, though. He was so rich that it was just a waste of time and money. My money.“Let’s go, I have to be in Milena’s office in five minutes!” I told her, but I was getting tired. Milena was going to add something about all this, and I knew it. I was grateful for all her help, but sometimes I felt she was getting too involved in my personal stuff.“Okay, but remember, y

CLARISSAI almost ran out of breath at the butler’s comment. Taking Hanna’s hand, I swallowed hard.“Just you, Miss Ward,” the man spoke firmly, breaking us apart. I couldn’t believe we had come together and now this man would separate us. What was so secret that Pierre only wanted to see me? “Ok…” I muttered that I barely heard myself. “But I don’t quite understand. Why is Mr. Trottier only wanting to see me?” I asked anyway, showing interest. After all, I had come with Hannah and I still intended to stay with her throughout the evening.“Well, Miss Ward, that’s a question only Mr. Trottier can answer,” said the butler on the same polite note, gesturing with his arm for me to follow him.“Go on Clare! I’ll stay here quietly and when you come out, we’ll leave immediately,” Hannah urged me, pointing in the same direction.“Are you sure? If you don’t want me to go, we can leave now...” I reassured myself that Hannah would be fine.“Yes, I’m sure. We can’t leave without the article or M

ClarissaI could barely breathe again, but this time I had a better grip on my emotions. It is his business if he wants to find Cello Clare. I giggled to myself, even sketching a barely visible smile. And I couldn’t help myself either.“I wish you good luck in finding her. I hear she doesn’t show her face at all.” “And how would you know that, Miss Ward?” I didn’t even have time to breathe in or prepare a response that wouldn’t give me away. But at the same time, I remembered I had the perfect cover.“I’m a journalist, Mr. Trottier, so I’m not missing a thing,” I said, putting a different emphasis on his name just to show him that his remark didn’t sit well with me. Was I jealous of Cello Clare because she was getting more attention? That was ridiculous.“Ok, I am ready to continue the interview,” he replied, and I felt a slight victory in his own duel of words. “Fair enough. What keeps you enthusiastic about continuing to make music and explore different styles?” I asked the next