Mario Rosalina Novels & Stories

As soon as she walked into the kitchen, Evelina froze, shocked to see that Rosalina was already there, looking fresh and relaxed. “Hey, Evelina,” Rosalina greeted her with a warm smile that left Evelina shocked. Rosalina did not look like a woman who had been afraid of sleeping alone the previous night. Not wanting to look intimidated by Rosalina’s presence, Evelina smiled. “Good morning, Rosalina... I see you look fresh today,” Evelina pointed out. To her surprise, Rosalina smiled again. However, her smile was not normal. She smiled like a villain who was secretly concocting a dangerous plan.

I was kneeling in the center of it, barefoot, damp, exhausted, dressed in one of Mirabella’s old faded house gowns with bleach stains across the hem, looking less like family and more like the servant Rosalina constantly reminded me I was. “Oh, calm down, honey.” Rosalina’s voice flowed like silk dipped in poison. “No one is marrying you off to a dead man. I would never do such a horrible thing to my daughter.” A small laugh followed. Soft. Controlled. Cruel. My scrubbing slowed. I lifted my eyes just enough to see Rosalina seated elegantly on the velvet couch, one leg crossed over the other, a glass of red wine balanced between her fingers. Her lips curled.

I narrowed my eyes at her retreating back, silently plotting her demise, before turning my attention to the boy. "Hey," he greeted, a dimple popping in his cheek as he smiled. He was cute in a non-threatening, boy-next-door kind of way. "Hi. You’re in my Geometry class, right?" I asked, recognizing him vaguely from the back row. "Yeah. Vincent Brooks," he said, extending a hand. I shook it. His grip was firm, his skin warm. Human. "Luna Rossi." "I know," he laughed softly. He shifted his weight, looking suddenly nervous. "So, hey... Zara mentioned you don't have a partner for Prom yet..."

While Dad fought to protect us against Mum. For a second, it felt like we'd traveled back in time. When Mum would act like the slayer, while Dad played the knight protecting the princess. At that moment— I wasn't Rosie Alphonse. I was that eight year old who loved her parents more than anything in the world. I was Rosalina Richards. My mother's daughter and my father's princess.

"Well... she is someone who hates Bianca even more than we do." Rosina nodded her head in agreement as she smiled, which made Annalie look back at her mother still unsure... "Hate is even an underrated word," Rosina said as she walked closer to them.. She stretched out her hand. “Rosina Rose Carter. It’s nice to meet you.”She held her hand out toward Annalie. For a moment, Annalie only stared at it. She slowly looked back at her mother, still trying to understand why she was involving another person in this feud…

A looked crossed his eyes,but it went away as quickly as it came, and soon he was looking at me amused again. "Of course, I didn't anticipate finding raunchy books in a sweet girl's bag, you're definitely right. Noted, I'm never doing that again." I scowled and he smirked. "So Rosie?" He asked, I couldn't help it, I rolled my eyes at that, rubbing at my temples. "No, my name's Rosette, not Rosie. That's childish." "Okay, so Rose. Well that's a pretty name for a very pretty girl, as cliché as it sounds, it's the truth, you're a pretty little flower." And the blush that was barely receding was back again.

“Mario and I will be at your place with the documents for this deal. If you break any of the rules, the penalty will be death, not only yours but that of your mother and brother.” She nodded and scrambled to her feet, muttering words of appreciation to me. I walked out of the restroom with Mario and paused when I saw Rosy leaning on the wall, her face red and swollen. “Isn’t that Rosy?” Mario spoke my thoughts behind me. I took a few steps towards her and touched her shoulder. She jerked around in fear and calmed down when she saw me. “Caleb?” she sighed. My heart pricked as I watched tears drop from her eyes.

But I could tell — she was definitely interested in my husband. "Who is she, Marcantonio?" Heleina asked, using his full name again. Most people called him Marco, but she insisted on the more formal version. I don’t know why, but hearing another woman say his full name made my stomach twist. Marco introduced me, "This is my wife, Maddie." I saw a flicker of surprise in Heleina’s smile, but she quickly fixed it, plastering on a fake one. "Maddie, this is Architect Heleina Daniels, one of my business partners and a dear friend."

she asked in her cute Spanish accent. Rosalina was someone Aria had hired to help around the house with full time as with Lyla she couldn’t keep on top of everything by herself. She had previously worked for Adrian’s parents and was a very trustworthy woman who did her job well and had a lovely bubbly personality. She was in her late forties and had no family of her own. “So far so good” Raj said with a small smile as he diced the potatoes and put them on to boil. Aria washed her hands and looked at Rosalina,

I once thought I'd marry him, I loved him, I still do, but I am not in love with him, and he is forever bound to Belle Valentino. I am sitting upright on my bed, staring at his name as it flashes through my screen, repeatedly. Relectantly, I pick it up. "Baby." He says, and I grin, immediately switching it to face time. "Marcello." I laugh. Damain Marcello Mikealson is a very handsome italian man, perfect but weighed by past love and trauma. One of the things we all share is Trauma. "Clementine," He grins childishly. "How is London?"