My Pretty Rose Novels & Stories

Wyatts' pov: "I want you to come back with me... Come back... Please?" My heart was beating a million miles a minute. I couldn't bare to be rejected by my mate. She looked into my eyes and smiled. "Yes, Wyatt. I would love that." Her voice was so beautiful. I couldn't help myself, I scooped her up into my arms and hopped off the bed, spinning her around. She started giggling and Goddess, I could never get tired of hearing that.

And the blush that was barely receding was back again. "I'm not a pretty little flower, Roses are as pretty as they are dangerous." He scoffed, standing up and even from where he was standing, I could see that he'll tower over me. He straightened out his suit jacket. Eyes boring into mine. "The only dangerous roses are those with thorns Rose, and you my dear, you have no thorns. You're a pretty little flower, a harmless little flower." He walked towards me till he was standing right Infront of me, towering over me as expected, I craned my neck just too look at him. "I'll be taking my leave now pretty flower, say hi to Mr. Potter for me."

Of course I wanted his number then I replied, "What is your name?" I sat my phone down so I could dry off and get dressed. Then like clock work another ping from I*******m. He asked, "What is your name beautiful?" I began to blush then replied. "My name is Elisabeth Rose Freeman ,but everyone calls me Beth", I messaged back. He then replied, "Vladius Lee Sinclair, nice to meet you Beth". I then in return sent my number to him. I finished getting ready for the day. I was planning on cleaning up my dorm room.

“ you are so pretty Mrs Grey “ Shay said with a proud smile on her face as she looked at how perfect her makeup looks on Roseanne who kept on looking at the mirror , she was confused when she saw herself looking so pretty, she never knew she could look this pretty. “ is this me ?” Roseanne said as she couldn’t get over the beaut she was seeing in the mirror , she stood and checked herself out happily . Rania has picked a sexy red short, backless gown for her earlier.

“Because, genius, I’d still want to patch up the rabbits munching on my garden. Flowers don’t bleed, but they also don’t wag their tails when you save them.” The memory made me smile as I climbed out of the car. After thanking the driver, I grabbed my bag and walked up to the front door. It swung open before I could knock, revealing Rose with her ever-bright smile, wearing a peach floral dress. She almost blended in with her flowers. “Liv!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me. Rose was a petite woman, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in presence. Her shoulder-length auburn hair framed her heart-shaped face, and her hazel eyes sparkled with warmth.

A red rose is not selfish because it wants to be a red rose. ✾ “Your arm?” I blink reluctantly at the woman in front of me. Biting my bottom lip, I slowly raise my hand and show her my wrist. She grabs onto it, pulling it towards her. She smiles at me, or I think she does, the only part of her that I could see either way was her lips, the bottom part of her nose, and everything below her ankles. Then she pulls a small sharp pen from her pocket, stabs it on my wrist, making me flinch. The pen starts turning red, and just like that she had taken some of my blood.

I said gently. Don Vinnie's face darkened, his eyes filled with various emotions. "Did Carlo force you to say that, Rosa?" I shook my head. With that weight finally off my shoulders, I felt lighter than I had in years. Before leaving, I went up to the attic to pick up the only photo my mother had left me, but Gemma was blocking the stairs. "Rosa, can you give Carlo back to me? I'm pregnant with his child. The baby needs a father."

And since he was very tall, Layla was almost lifted off the ground. "E-Eric… let go… I can't breathe…" Eric looked down at her, his handsome face gradually souring. "Did you forget, Layla, that the perfume you're using is Avril's favorite scent, with the main ingredient being rose oil? I bought her many bottles of rose perfume in the past because of how much she likes the scent of roses. I'd just forgotten about it later on…" Eric suddenly let out a self-deprecating laugh. Indeed, he'd forgotten too many things.

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.

At the end of the hall, a door sat slightly ajar. I pushed it open… and froze. The room was filled with portraits of me. Me dancing on stage. Me reading quietly in the library. Me sitting alone on a park bench, lost in thought. Every angle of me, every moment… Jordan had captured in painstaking detail. I stepped closer to one painting. That was seventeen-year-old me in mid-dance, skirt flying, laughter radiant. In the corner, there was a line of tiny words that read: My rose has finally come to me.