Flaming Rose Novels & Stories

There's no in-between. The first part is out for now. I asked Flame to stay on standby—an option he wasn't thrilled about since the lack of action bores him. That makes two of us. Flame and I are the types who will only accept a mission if we deem it exciting enough. The adrenaline wave is our bitch, and we ride it every chance we get. Now, the only one I want to ride me is Rose. I like how adorable she looks when she thinks she has the upper hand before I flip her onto her back and tease her while—

" Let's just fix your wife." I said with a sigh as I powered up my Rosepast. My eyes turned dark red as I held my hands in prayer to my lips " Rosepast." I whispered into my hand, the skin under my collarbone moves apart as a red glass rose glowing purple appears. I lifted my forefingers and middle fingers to create a triangle. The middle petals of the rose start to rotate as the triangle lights up in a purple flame. " Let the past be seen." The middle petals of my Rosepast stop rotating as the outer petals slowly start expanding.

Marco drove into the gates of La Rosa Nera. The club's neon lights cast an eerie shadow over everything they touched. The club's pathway was a spectacle to behold. An archway adorned with beautiful black roses that resonated with the name of the club, La Rosa Nera (The Black Rose). The petals of these gorgeous flowers glittered and danced under the night sky. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of expensive perfume and a fading sensation of danger that lingered.

I opened the door just a few inches and saw a small cardboard box sitting on the carpet with no name and no return address, so I pulled it inside and opened the lid while the others crowded around me to see what was inside. Resting on a bed of white tissue paper was a single rose made of delicate glass and the stem was broken in half so it looked dead and jagged, and I knew immediately that it was a message from Elena Romano because that rose was the symbol of the investment firm we had burned down in Berlin.

Only those many years had saved him from death. “I brought... the roses... sir...” he said fearfully, and it only took one glare to understand that he had to leave them on the table and get the hell out. I watched them for a long time. Red as blood and perfumed like the scent of a lusty woman. That was when I took out the lighter and lit one of them, watching it burn to ashes, dying before my eyes. I was so damn pleased to see its petals burn and fall off the bulb. Then I lit another one, and the feeling was even more exhilarating. Like I had the power of life and death.

As the fire raged fiercely, I took my husband's hand and tried to rush out of the banquet hall with him. However, Frank Winston shook me off and turned to run toward his assistant, Johanna Scott. As I stood frozen in disbelief, the cabinet beside me collapsed with a rumble and pinned me beneath it. I yelled out for Frank, but he simply picked Johanna up and hurried off without a single glance back at me. Flames and thick smoke enveloped me. I watched helplessly as Frank and Johanna moved further and further away until I eventually lost consciousness.

“I thought your room could use something beautiful.” He pushed the roses toward her. She didn’t move to take them. "I like lilies better," she declared bluntly. "Falsehoods." His smile got bigger. "Elara, you're no lily. In the sun, lilies wither. Roses bloom and bleed in it. He lean closer speaking slowly so she alone could hear. “You and I are roses. Power with thorns. And I intend to see you bloom beside me.” Her eyes narrowed. “And if I choose to bloom alone?”

How strange is it that I prefer to stay in the cage rather than leave it? "Why are we going there?" Fiore looks straight into my eyes in that moment, a sly smile stretching her lips. "To introduce you to our world, Ellie," she begins. "To let everyone know that you are now a Black Rose." Shit. He's making a move this soon? I inhale sharply. This is it. There's no way out now. "Scared?" Fiore cocks up a brow smugly, looking like she's won a battle.

Jeffrey got up and jumped up and down to get there. He thought the flowers had bloomed, and I was back. But how could a rose that was uprooted bloom? He opened the iron gate of the rose garden and found that the land was loose. He saw Joanna holding a small hoe, squatting on the ground, and plowing bit by bit. "Look, Jeffrey, I want the roses I planted to bloom all over the garden." Without waiting for him to respond, Joanna, who was wearing high fashion and exquisite makeup-, hugged him. "Happy? Besides Audrey, I can also plant roses for you."

She was certain it was a beautiful bond that she had secured for her daughter, more like a fusion as she reminisced on that one cold evening that found Vincent and Vanessa sitting on the floor by the fireplace. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and dead leaves, and he held a deck of cards in his hands, shuffling them with a speed and dexterity that made the cards a blur to even she who watched them. Then he laid them out, gently revealing the silent blend of red and black he had spun. "Watch closely," he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "I will show you something we used to call la main est plus rapide que l'œil."