Lorraine LebedevaGrief has a way of removing you from the world.It comes in little waves, at first they are calming and sometimes they are overwhelming.It's been three days since she died. After that evening, I immediately went home and locked myself in my room.Once in a while the maids would check up on me, even Dante. But what I found funny is that I haven't spoken to my father.We've both been grieving in different ways.He's been cold and distant and I've been depressed or somehow lost.I'm surprised I haven't seen him shed a single tear, they smuggled each other with so much love, so seeing him acting like he was not bothered or that she literally wasn't the love of his life confused me.It was strange even for him.I sat on an arms chair and glazed out the window, a light blanket of snow covered the ground, and armed guards walked around the yard fulfilling their duty. I was all alone, father just left a few hours ago to God knows where.I haven't visited Katina in the hospi

Lorraine LebedevaSilence filled between us.I was anxious to see how he would react to what I told him.Would he help me?Would he report me to my father?The answer remains unknown until he speaks his mind."Dante." I called out, anxiety creasing in my veins.Dante looked at me, an unknown emotion swirled in his brown eyes."Lorraine, why are you telling me this?" Is the first thing that left his mouth. I sighed, taking a set at the edge of my bed. "I don't know." I answered truthfully.I actually do not know why I am asking for his help. I just feel like he has the heart in him to help even though he is loyal to my father.Dante crossed his arms deep in thought.We sat like this for the past five minutes, anxious by the minute."If I help you, I will be seen as a traitor and your father will kill me instantly." He explained which was true. It was selfish of me to ask him to risk everything just for me but that is how desperate I am to leave this hell of a house."Dante I know, It's

Lorraine Lebedeva"My mother died in my arms."Raphaël did not react whatsoever which made me happy because I did not want his sympathy, I just wanted his help."When?" he asked, his attention focused on me. "On my birthday." I uttered.His eyes softened as he looked into my eyes. His eyes spoke to me as if he understood what I'm feeling."You want my help to find the person who was behind your mothers death?" He trailed off.I pressed my lips together tugging on the bed sheets. Replying with a nod. "Are you ready?" he asked.I did not know what he meant by his question but personally I knew I was ready and I wanted blood.Raphaël caught me by surprise when he pulled me onto his lap. I pushed my brows together. "You are still wounded. I will hurt you." I said.He stroked my right cheek. "You've changed the last time I saw you. You are more - determined to do what you want and hurt." he whispered leaving me speechless."How was I the last time you saw me?" I asked curiously. "You wante

Lorraine LebedevaFrom the night comes a sound as if thunder could be stretched. So I tilt my head upward, seeking lights that flash, the red and white in the deepest of blue skies. For a moment I am still, feeling the cool air, breathing in a steady rhythm. Then there they are, those crazy passing stars, flying high, ever onward."Would you like some red wine?" I jerked my head to the sound of the voice, I was so deep in thought I did not hear what he said until he flashed me the wine bottle.Forcing a smile I shook my head and the man dressed in a two color piece uniform walked away.I sighed and slouched in my chair. The private airplane rode through the sky as if it were on sleek and perfect tracks.My mind couldn't wrap around the fact that I watched a man lose his hand, because of me.Raphaël, the way he acts towards me is so confusing. He treats me like I belong to him and don't at the same time. The way he acted today. Possessive and anger was all I saw when I looked at him.

Lorraine LebedevaIt was a beautiful day in Rome, Italy. The sky was clear, baby blue and the weather was warm, just hot enough to need a fan on an August day.My chest tightened when I stepped foot into the Romano's Mansion.I took in my surroundings, The mansion stood there as if the surrounding nature had embraced it, that the flora flowed within it as much as around it. For the architect had loved the trees so much that there was a mighty oak in the center, centuries old, and the great house had been built around it. The house was welcoming from the open door to the wide hallway. Upon the walls were the photographs of children, so obviously so loved. The floor was an old-fashioned parquet with a blend of deep homely browns and the walls were the green of summer gardens meeting a bold white baseboard. The banister was a twirl of a branch, tamed by the carpenter's hand, its grain flowing as water might, in waves of comforting woodland hues. Under the lamp-shine it was nature's art,