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Through The Rose's Thorns

Author: Tiana Edwin
last update Last Updated: 2025-06-01 19:46:19

Jacqueline's POV

We had the dossier. It had cost blood, bullets, and nearly our lives, but it was finally ours. Days had passed since the hell that erupted at the Naples estate, and yet the adrenaline still pulsed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.

We were holed up in a secluded safehouse along the rugged Amalfi coast—an old villa with cracked stone walls and a view of the sea that was far too peaceful for the storm brewing inside.

Lorenzo had spread the hand-bound dossier across the long oak table in the center of the study, lit dimly by a chandelier that creaked every time the wind moaned outside. Haze sat opposite him, typing furiously on his laptop, fingers flying like the keys were trying to escape.

I stood behind them both, arms crossed, heart pounding. My eyes kept drifting to the family crest embossed on the dossier's cover: a black rose encased in thorns. La Rosa Nera.

"Anything yet?" I asked.

Lorenzo didn't glance up. "It's written in three languages. Italian, Latin,
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  • The Heartless Lover    The Thorned Truth

    Jacqueline’s POVThe moment Reneé turned and motioned for us to follow her, the air shifted.She didn’t speak as she led us through the mansion, her red silk gown whispering along the marbled floors. The hallways were quiet—too quiet—and I couldn’t help but feel like we were being led straight into a trap.But something about her… the deliberate grace in her steps, the unbothered tilt of her chin, the way the guards bowed without meeting her gaze—told me this wasn’t just power.It was legacy.She pushed open a glass door at the end of the hall, and the scent hit me first. Roses. Thick and cloying and heady. But not the kind in love poems. This was the scent of thorns. Of blood. Of something ancient and cruel.The room was built entirely of glass. A greenhouse. But not like any I’d seen before.It was cathedral-like in structure, the arched roof disappearing into a dusky sky above, streaks of violet and silver from the setting sun casting ghost-light over everything. Climbing vines sca

  • The Heartless Lover    Through The Rose's Thorns

    Jacqueline's POVWe had the dossier. It had cost blood, bullets, and nearly our lives, but it was finally ours. Days had passed since the hell that erupted at the Naples estate, and yet the adrenaline still pulsed beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.We were holed up in a secluded safehouse along the rugged Amalfi coast—an old villa with cracked stone walls and a view of the sea that was far too peaceful for the storm brewing inside.Lorenzo had spread the hand-bound dossier across the long oak table in the center of the study, lit dimly by a chandelier that creaked every time the wind moaned outside. Haze sat opposite him, typing furiously on his laptop, fingers flying like the keys were trying to escape.I stood behind them both, arms crossed, heart pounding. My eyes kept drifting to the family crest embossed on the dossier's cover: a black rose encased in thorns. La Rosa Nera. "Anything yet?" I asked.Lorenzo didn't glance up. "It's written in three languages. Italian, Latin,

  • The Heartless Lover    Petals And Blood

    Jacqueline's POV It had been nearly a week since we met with Cheyenne—a week of digging through shadows, whispered names, and dead ends. I was pacing the length of the living room when Haze walked in, his expression unreadable, the kind of look that said he had something we needed but we wouldn’t like it.Lorenzo looked up from his seat, his fingers tightening around the glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. I paused mid-step, locking eyes with Haze."Talk," Lorenzo demanded.Haze tossed a manila folder on the table. "La Rosa Nera exists. The psycho was right"The room stilled."I thought it was just a ghost story," I said cautiously, eyes narrowing. "It's pretty hard believing shit that comes out of Cheyenne's mouth"Haze shook his head. "It’s very real. Operating out of Italy. Their influence is quiet but deep. Trafficking, smuggling, political blackmail. Everything. And get this... they’re hosting a private auction. High-level. Invitation only."Lorenzo leaned forward. "What kind of

  • The Heartless Lover    Poison Behind Bars

    Jacqueline's POV The silence in the living room was unbearable. I sat cross-legged on the leather couch, flipping a knife in my hand, watching its blade catch light from the chandelier. Haze leaned against the wall, arms folded, unreadable. Lorenzo stood at the window, back to us, fingers twitching like he was itching to break something—or someone. "We’re wasting time," he finally muttered. I rolled my eyes. "Says the man who spent days chasing ghosts in Russia." Lorenzo turned, his glare pinning me in place. “That ghost gave us a name. Reneé. And I think she holds the truth about your parents.” My hand froze mid-flip. “You think Reneé knows who killed them?” “I’m saying it’s a lead,” Lorenzo replied. “And the only one we have. You say Scarface had no traitors… but what if the rot wasn’t outside the family?” I scoffed. “You’re quick to point fingers when it’s convenient.” “Don’t start,” he snapped. “You’re the one who came into my family with lies and secrets.” “Oh, please,”

  • The Heartless Lover    Shadows beneath roses

    Lorenzo's POVThe flight on my private jet back to the states was too quiet. I had always been the type to wait for the right time, the right pieces to fall into place. But not this time. Not when the blood of her family stained my name, and the answers were somewhere between Scarface’s broken legacy and the shadows of mine.I lit a cigarette. Didn’t smoke it.. just watched it burn between my fingers like I was waiting for guilt to crawl out of the smoke.Haze on the other hand was staring blankly at the photograph of little Reneé, he didn't realize when the flight attendant had pour him some wine in his empty glass.“What are you thinking?” I speak out loud, causing him to wake up to reality.He took in a deep breath before answering me “I've heard of the name Reneé before, I'm just trying to recall where I've heard of her”“Are you fucking serious?” I almost jumped out of my seat “Yes” he answered relaxing on the seat. “Ahh… now I remember, years ago while I was in Scarface, a Rene

  • The Heartless Lover    Whispers of the Past

    I sat in the silence of my room, surrounded by dim light and cold air, staring at the walls like they’d hand me answers.Jacqueline’s voice kept replaying in my head — the weight of her grief, the rage behind her certainty that my bloodline destroyed hers.I had to know. I needed to know.Not just for her.For me.My fingers hovered over my phone for a moment before I scrolled through and tapped Haze’s contact. He picked up on the second ring.“Lorenzo,” he said, cautious.“I need every detail you have on Scarface. From the beginning.”He didn’t ask why.There was a pause, a breath, and then he said, "okay, boss” Three days later, we stood on cracked concrete outside a warehouse in Petropavlovsk, Russia — its rusted metal frame groaning beneath the wind like it had something to confess.“This is it, Lorenzo.” Haze said, pulling up the collar of his coat. “Christian and his brother, Alonso, spent most of their childhood here. I only found this place because I intercepted a transmissi

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