Roman Holiday Novel Novels & Stories

“Coastal town. Southern Corsica. A bloodied man matching Jean’s description was treated in secret. Paid in diamonds.” Vincenzo’s entire body went still. Then he said one word. “Where?” On the Road — Aria and Noel They were driving away from the De Luca estate. Noel looked out the window, numb. He wore no jewelry. No ring. No watch. No reminder. “I need to be nothing for a while,” he said. Aria nodded. “I’ll protect you.” “You always do.” But up ahead, at the fork in the road, a black car appeared behind them.

The morning sun poured into Rosalie's room like a slow, golden river She hadn’t slept much, Rome had hummed softly outside her window all night, a city alive and ancient, breathing its own rhythm But her mind had been too busy, spinning.l She sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the envelope. It was thin, elegant, crisp. Her name printed on it in bold, formal letters. She’d found it the day before, resting on the leather seat of the luxury car like it had been waiting for her all along

LENA The morning felt too still. The kind of silence that doesn’t soothe but warns. Roman hadn’t said a word since he found the rose on the hood of his car. It sat in his hand for a long time before he threw it into the fireplace without hesitation, the black ribbon curling and shriveling in the flames. I stood at the doorway, arms wrapped protectively around my bump, watching the smoke twist upward. “Do you think it’s… her?” I asked quietly.

“I only want to help. After all, Rosemary has a habit of… being in the wrong place at the wrong time, doesn’t she?” Rosemary’s gaze was sharp. “You know something about last night, don’t you, Casandra?” Casandra chuckled softly. “Me? Oh, of course not. I just read the news, like everyone else.” She tilted her head, smiling sweetly. “But it’s strange, isn’t it? Every time something bad happens to you, there’s always a man dragged down with you.” Rosemary clenched her fists under the blanket. “Get out.” Casandra feigned surprise. “I’m only trying to be friendly, no need to be so defensive.”

Time to wrap up and get ready to go home. I was walking along Paseo De Roxas, Makati and saw people rushing to go home. It was getting dark and the Christmas lights installed along the avenue were turned on. Two more weeks and it will be Christmas. It will be the eighth Christmas I'll be spending without him. Naomi is right. Time to start over. I will have that second date with Ervin. I am not sure if I want to spend Christmas cold and lonely.

We were in a certain square, and my curiosity kept my eyes roaming left and right. "Keep your head down, Miatta," my friend murmured from behind me, "and make sure you keep it that way no matter what is said out here tonight, for the safety of your head." I obliged and bent my head reluctantly. I was royalty, and I was not supposed to bow to individuals of a lower station than I. The mean woman walked in front of us, her hands clasped behind her firmly. Her feet were dirty, and the talons on each toe were long and sharp. I gulped hard, anxious and abuzz with anticipation.

I have to suffer but can never escape. Roman was playing with his brand-new toy which was brought by Nikolai from London and I was reading a magazine. I glanced at Roman, he was playing with his toys peacefully. Looking at him a smile made its way to my lips. I turned my head back to the magazine and flipped the paper. A very irritating high heels sound made me turn my head to the main door and A blonde with long legs wearing very revealing clothes came to my site. She was walking like a model and I thought she might be one.

The lodge doors burst open, letting out a wave of warmth, laughter—and her. Sebastian froze. She walked out like she owned the snow beneath her boots. Long dark hair spilled from a wool hat, her coat cinched at the waist, confidence in every step. She was beautiful in a way that felt intentional. Dangerous. Her eyes scanned the area sharply, calculating exits. Sebastian’s hand twitched toward a gun that wasn’t there. Because he knew her. Nyra Valen. Mafia queen. Strategist. His biggest rival. And apparently… a Christmas tourist.

The heavy rumble of armored engines vibrated through the floorboards of the master wing. I pressed my hand flat against my lower stomach, forcing my shallow breathing to even out as a sudden wave of morning sickness tightened my throat. Roman was back from Baltimore, twelve hours ahead of schedule. I stepped onto the grand staircase landing, the scent of fresh pine disinfectant and lingering iron copper stinging my nostrils. Down in the foyer, Dante stood near the freshly scrubbed marble, his silver-topped cane resting against his polished leather boot.

He didn’t know what his uncle had planned for them when they returned. “Huh. I didn’t expect the little one to win...” Rowan comments. Roman looks down at the the fight below. The scrawny kid won. “No surprise. He was dominating the fight...” Roman says in English his Italian accent thick. Rowan smiles and looks over at Roman. “I heard you got married...” Rowan mentions. “Yes. Rosalie she’s came down to the States with me. She went to New York to go shopping.” he tells Rowan.