Novel & Cerita Dahlia Rossetti

His deep reflection was interrupted abruptly by a soft voice that uttered his name with a pinch of anxiety: —Duncan? - Rosalie, with her striking presence, rescued him from the whirlwind of confused thoughts. He turned, surprised, and found the woman standing at the door, fixing her eyes with an intensity that captured his attention immediately. Rosalie was dressed in an elegant fashion, with a black pants that highlighted her slender silhouette and a white blouse that framed her natural beauty. Her hair, still damp, seemed to shine as if she had just come out of a relaxing bath. Duncan, momentarily oblivious to the challenges and threats surrounding her life, stared at her with an expressio

“ Yeah ! He likes the sister and you like the brother . Don’t act as if you don’t understand my words Amra Caddel . I wasn’t born yesterday . I have tasted love and gave birth to your mother . I would love to hear more about this later after you finish work at the company . “ said madam Dahlia . “ I told you that is not like that . “ said Amra . “ Oh please ! No boy in this world can make you nervous like this . No one has been able to affect you no matter how many expensive and luxurious grifts they would bring you , you would never be touched no matter what they did . You are the rose that everyone wants to possess in the world of the rich . You are beautiful , you are good , you are cool

She was the complete opposite of him – short, warm-toned skin with creases around her mouth that said she smiled often, and an apron tied haphazardly over a floral gown. “Oh, you must be her!” the woman beamed. “I’m Rosetta – been cooking for Mr. Fowler since he was barely twenty. Come in, bambina, you look half-cooked yourself.” “Rosetta,” DeMarco cleared his throat. “His... wife.” Rosetta stopped, her smile drooping a little as her eyes darted to Niya, then back to DeMarco. “Lord have mercy,” she muttered. “Didn’t think I’d live to see the day.”

Ivory smirked when she saw Mari panicking; she smiled at her class mates who in turn clapped as she returned to her seat. The next person was Natasha. ‘Hello everyone my name is Natasha Colby, my father is knight Colby’ Natasha said. Collective gasps could be heard, everyone knew the story of how knight Colby rose to fame, he went from grass to grace. ‘I’m proficient in literature, calligraphy and embroidery’. Everyone clapped as Natasha went back to her seat. At last everyone had introduced themselves.

'' She replies, lightly running her hand at Elis's back. A couple of hours later, I am left staring at the glass window near the back—only watching flowers blossoming beautifully. My lips curve up into a small smile, realising that there's a lot of roses here other than different flowers. To my surprise, I find Fiore standing a few feet from me as she watches the roses, ''They are Elia's favourite.'' She says, breaking the silence. ''Especially orange coloured roses,'' She adds. Roses. Is it a coincident?

Rose frowned at this. "Really?" Dalia nodded. "Hm, who knows, Nerissa's good at gardening." Dalia grimaced on Rose' response. "Well, I just really hope that Nerissa does not end up making Madam Cynthia disappointed. If ever she did something stupid, for sure all the birds at the garden will fly away." Rose chuckle at Dalia. "Uhm, you are not wrong there, Dalia. You know how Madam love those roses, since it's really expensive and hard to find, and more than that, those rose are from Señor Antonio. She always delicately puring and nurturing them."

The smell of smoke never left her. Even after five years, Inés still woke up coughing some nights, the phantom scent of ash curling through her dreams like a ghost refusing to rest. “Name?” the guard at the Delgado estate gate asked, his voice flat but suspicious. Inés gripped the strap of her cheap bag tighter. “Inés Montoya. I’m here for the maid position.” The man’s eyes raked over her; young, pretty, average enough not to draw attention, which was the point. He muttered something into his walkie-talkie, then motioned for her to go inside.

to bring Dahlia's name to her ears, a message from a realm beyond our understanding. I took a moment to absorb her words, the implications unfolding like the petals of a hidden flower. Dahlia, it seemed, was a presence that refused to remain shrouded in obscurity. She was a name that sought to be heard, a truth that longed to be unveiled. The scent of jasmine, now more pronounced in the stillness, mingled with the memory of our meal, creating an olfactory tapestry that seemed to encapsulate the gravity of the moment. The villa, with its centuries-old stones and the secrets they held, bore witness to the revelation with a quiet reverence. In this cocoon of shared revelation, I realized that

*** ~~Dahlia~~ *** I watch color drain from Soren's face. His eyes shifts to Ashley, anger flickering through it. Ashley's staring at me, eyes piercing, face tight. She knows exactly what she's doing. My eyes trail to her hand, she has a massive diamond ring on it. I all but smirk, taking her hand. “Dahlia Rhodes, his business consultant,” I say, shaking her hand. I try to pull away. She doesn't let me.

Datura was deadly poison, but Rosa loved it, so Vincent let it bloom into a whole damn sea across the Rossi estate grounds. Once, I'd begged him to tear it out, scared some maid or kid would take a bite by accident. Rosa had cried until she passed out over it. "Viola hates me this much, Vincent? She won't even let you grow me flowers?" He'd sneered at me. "Everyone knows it's poison. Who the hell's gonna eat it? Stop being this dramatic!"