Lahat ng Kabanata ng ROSES ON FIRE: Kabanata 91 - Kabanata 100

HANNAHA month earlier…Everything was a mess. Our plans fell apart, and it felt like we were screwed. I was so damn frustrated and defeated. So, we messed up and couldn't get rid of Clarissa. Now, we did not know where she was or what she was up to, and it was stressing us out big time. It was like she had a freaking guardian angel, always slipping away from us.It was already lunchtime and, as I had no subjects to cover; I was already in Milena’s office. She picked up on my sadness. She walked up to me, all cautious and worried.“Have you heard anything from Clarissa, Hannah?” she inquired, her tone betraying her own worry.I let out a sigh, my mind all over the place.“No, Milena,” I replied harshly. “And to be honest, I’m not even curious. She could have died for all I cared.”Milena looked disappointed and frustrated, her eyebrows furrowed. But deep down, we both knew. We really couldn't stand Clarissa and were set on finding a way to get rid of her.She got even closer and whisp

FRANCESCA23 years after…New York, USA“Hello, Mom!”“Francesca, my darling! Hello! How are you doing? How are your studies going? Are you healthy?” mother asked with joy an avalanche of questions that just made me smile.“I’m fine, Mom, thanks for asking! My studies are going very well. I’m involved in interesting projects and I’ve made wonderful friends. I’m really excited about everything that’s going on here.” I answered in a cheerful voice.“How wonderful, darling! I’m proud of you, Francesca. And how is life there? Is it different from Palermo?” she continued with interest.“Yes, it’s quite different, Mom. The people are very open and the cultural diversity is impressive. I love the atmosphere here and all the opportunities I have.”“I’m glad to hear that, my dear. And you take care of yourself, don’t you?” she asked curiously. She always had been so overprotective.“Of course I’m looking after myself, Mom. And don’t worry, I intend to visit soon. I miss you, dad and Palermo.”

VINCENZOEmotions were running wild as I stood at my dad's grave. In the depths of my soul, hopelessness and rage were battling like two savage beasts for dominance. The absence of him, the injustice, and knowing they took his life in a merciless act of violence consumed me.The air was thick with grief, as if the atmosphere itself shared my mourning. The icy wind carried with it the echo of his laughter, the warmth of his embrace, and the wisdom of his counsel. I saw memories of happier times, like shattered mirror fragments reflecting a life that was once broken irreparably.Even though he never showed me to anyone, I was missing nothing. I had it all, his love, his undivided presence until that day. Nobody knew I existed and for now, it would stay that way.I studied abroad and had my home in France. When I finished there I came back to Palermo to inherit my father’s and grandfather’s fortune and with that money I bought the estate in which I was staying now. Despite my tears and

FRANCESCAMorning came, but I remembered freezing up when I told Maria about my mom’s conversation with her friend about my parents’ past. A big part of me was just focused on her reaction. It all seemed strange, like an incomprehensible puzzle, like Maria seemed to hide a secret, even though logically, she couldn’t possibly know anything about my parents’ past. I mean, she hardly knew them.Maria was clearly stressing out as I recounted the conversation. She had this strange fear in her eyes, like she was hiding something. I really wanted to know what was going on in her head when she reacted like that, but then I thought maybe I was overthinking things. They’re still getting to know each other, so she probably doesn’t know about my parents’ past.But Maria told me not to stress. She said her reaction was normal when she found out my parents had a past before me. One that I didn’t know. She was trying to make me feel better and tell me that everything was fine, that I shouldn’t worry

FRANCESCA When I walked into my father’s office, I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest. I didn’t know exactly what to expect, but my father’s enthusiasm seemed to suggest that this was something important and not just a regular meeting with my father.“My daughter,” my father began, with a proud smile on his lips, “it is time for our world to know you, to know that the Serratore do not give up and that you will continue our tradition with dignity and strength.”I swallowed dryly and responded with an approving nod. I felt overwhelmed by the burden of this legacy, though it was never my choice to be part of a mafia family. This dangerous life I had run away from years ago was now coming back to haunt me.“I don’t know, Dad...” I hesitated. “I’ve been trying hard to build another life, a quieter, more honest one. I’m afraid that if I get involved in your business, I’ll never be able to get out of this vicious circle.”But my father was determined to make me understand the im