Mario Rosalina Novels & Stories

My eyes watered but I blinked the moisture away. The whole room was silent. The only sound that could be heard was the faint trickle of my blood out of my gunshot wound onto the hardwood floor. Until the heavy silence broke by the backstabbing bastard’s boarish voice. “Boss, there’s more to the anonymous tip.” What Abram said next only cemented what I’d already been guessing. “They’re claiming that the orphan girl who’s been working here for the past six years poisoned the food that was to be served to the heir of the Clifford's family. They’re saying she’s Roselia Quinn, the Roselia Quinn, daughter of Henry Quinn. And given the fact that she was trying to escape just proved that….”

"I do not want to be a Mafia Queen!" Rosana announced after barging into Sergio's study. He was working but paid attention to her at the same time. "I cannot agree to your rules and watch people die all the time. They are humans and make mistakes. I cannot be your queen if I have to be heartless and do the things you do" "One of the things I do is give you org@sms, Bambolina." He drawled lazily and looked up from his laptop. "Do you not like it?"

“If you want to go, we’ll make it work.” She smiled up at me and looked back at the two women who looked shocked. Rolling my eyes, I turned back to the guys but they looked equally shocked. “What?” “I’m sorry, did I just see Marek Baranov smile?” Miguel looked from me to Ria. Ria turned and smiled, holding out her hand to Miguel. “I apologize. My name is Rosaria, Rosaria Baranov.” My heart swelled with pride. She didn’t stumble and she allowed Miguel to take her hand, though he was completely lost as to what was happening. He looked from her to me.

Roseline Palmer: Roseline Palmer is a determined and ambitious young woman with expressive hazel eyes. Her long and graceful Chestnut hair, adding to her approachable charm. Standing at an average height of 5"8, she exudes confidence and resilience. She normally dresses like a smart secretary during work and casual baggy clothing in her private hours. She loves fruits and dislikes excessive wastage of good food, she's the submissive type and extremely daring when angered. Roseline's POV

Some white light was coming out of Rosalina, and she was struggling. The army of the non living were all destroyed, but I new this wasn't over. Olivia and Catalina casted a spell aimed at Mabel which momentarily disarmed her, but she casted one back and the two Lopez women fell to the ground. That moment of distraction cost Mabel a lot. Rosalina was in control now.Her body was changing and it seemed that her powers had come back to her. She had a blue glow to her and looked nothing like the ressurected ones. She looked clean, and damn gorgeous.

And Flavio would never kill Giovanni, Riccardo was there to stop him. "We are not your slaves, we are an independent mafia family, you wouldn't decide anything for us. We can make our own decisions," Rosalina hissed who was sitting silently the whole time. She was burning in rage that He didn't even glance at her. She was far more beautiful than his wife and Cara who He glanced at twice at this table. She wanted to have him just once before she married Killian. He had insulted her and now she didn't want anything more than to ruin his married life with that waitress before settling forever with Killian and mocking Aaron for his ruined marriage.

"You must be Tamara." Rosie cleared her throat, looking between the man and her cousin. "Tamara, this is Milo. My... um, boyfriend." Tamara gaped at her cousin. "Boyfriend? You never mentioned a boyfriend." Milo laughed a deep and rich laugh, bowing his head lightly. "It is lovely to finally meet you, belle." Tamara was impressed as she eyed Rosie suspiciously. "It is my pleasure." Milo turned to Rosie, handing her the flowers."For you, amour."

She stepped closer, her eyes meeting mine. “Maria is locked away,” she said, watching my face carefully. I didn’t flinch. But my pulse jumped. “She claims she is innocent,” Luna Isobel continued. “But I also know that she is on your side, against Elara. And she wants you to be the one to stand beside my son. And sometimes, consorts and slaves would do what they are paid to do.” “She is innocent, and if you are implying that I’ve had anything to do with this…”

But first, I had to endure the pantomime one last time. Tonight was the engagement gala at The Velvet Room. A display for the Five Families: the Moretti name restored to respect through my marriage to the Rossi heir. My victory lap. My final performance. I should have known the script would change. Isabella Conti walked in. My half-sister. The living reminder of the woman who destroyed my mother, draped in white silk and a smirk. When my champagne flute slipped, staining her pristine Louboutins, instinct made me reach for Alexander. He pushed me away.

“Please, stop!” I choke, my voice raw, knees sinking into the cold stone. My palms scrape against gravel and shattered glass, the remnants of a night I don’t want to remember. But Rosalina only scoffs in my face, lips curved into a venomous smile. Her long blond hair tumbles forward, a golden curtain veiling her face from the pack gathered behind her, but I know what lies beneath it—a monster draped in silk. She leans down slowly, as if to embrace me, to show them all what a saint she is, their pure Luna, merciful to the end. But her lips brush my ear and the illusion shatters like glass.