Una Rosa Para Otra Rosa の小説・ストーリー

Because of his damned pride, he denied that he loved me and kept planning with those friends to toy with me. "They said my taste was bad... I was just confused for a while..." "Confused for a while?" I laughed coldly. "You watched me sell my grandmother's house for you and empty the wedding fund my mother left me. "You let those men trample my cat to death." I spread my hands, covered in wounds from rose thorns. "You even made me wrap nine hundred ninety-nine roses for Anne Chase, watching my hands get pierced by thorns because I needed the money. "Lucas, tell me. Was that also because you were confused for a while?"

Rose says, no emotion in sight, My heart sinks, confused, "Why?" I ask, hurt tonight. Rose shrugs nonchalant, "Just do it," she says, No explanation, no affection, leaves me wondering what's real, what's fake ================== I stand frozen, holding flowers so dear, Discarded like our love, my heart filled with fear. "Rose, what's going on?" I ask, frustrated and blue, "Why are you pushing me away?" I'm desperate, what to do? Rose shrugs indifferent, "You're just too much,"

HEADING OUT “Rose, where are you going?” He asked her as she kept walking. Roman followed after her but she did not look back once, neither did she answer his question. “Rose” he called out. “Roman please let me be. Go back inside. I'm done with you this night.” She said and kept walking into the darkness Roman watched her pull out her phone and dialed a number. There was no answer the first time but at the second ring the calk was connected.

Rosa's eyes stare glued to the ground as she speaks to him. “Doing what?” Pierced asked as he moved closer. “Kissing each other. You know it's bad. Besides, you might find your mate sooner rather than later and…. “I don't want a mate Rosa. I don't want any other connection. I want you Rosa. Just you” Rosa did not know what she was doing to him. How his stone heart melted at her smile or laughter, how he felt so complete with her. How he would blindly go anywhere she wanted him to.

That public display of affection could tell it all. The woman laughed lightly, her hair catching the morning light. Red-brown. Almost the exact shade of Rosa’s own. Even her height and shape, it was like watching a reflection of herself from another life. Her chest heaved as realisation struck her like a knife. The daisies Nikolai had brought her the other day weren’t for her. He had bought them for the other woman. Rosa’s nails dug deep into her palms until she felt the sharp sting of blood. Her eyes burned, her breath trembled, and tears welled despite her fury.

, she continued. “Buuuuttt Maaaaa! Those old bitties have nothing but terrible things to say about da and us, and all I ever hear is how wonderful it is that I took your face but unfortunately I have the hair of the devil…. i like my hair - it’s like da’s and I love him!” Rose pouted.

I whispered to keep us sane. “Do you know why I named you Roses?” I asked her, though my lips cracked with thirst. “Because even in blood and thorns, roses bloom. You will bloom, my little one. Even if I wither.” I vowed with voice cracking. We walked until the night gave way to dawn, a pale smear of light clawing at the sky.

But today, there was something different in it, something sharp. Emilia offered a tentative smile. “Hi, Rosa.” Rosa didn’t return it. Instead, she dropped the basket on a stone bench and tilted her head. “You walk around here like you belong. Like you’re not the reason things are falling apart.” Emilia blinked. “I… I don’t understand.” Rosa’s lip curled. “Oh, you understand perfectly.” Then she stepped closer, her voice low and biting. “El Diablo se está muriendo por una bruja como tú.”

Rosa, the Palace healer…clung to the wall for balance, her cries of pleasure bouncing off the walls. Her breath came in gasps as he pushed deeper and harder. “You like this, don’t you?” Cross growled in her ear. “This isn’t Zod. I’m bigger than him. You wanted it, so take it.” His filthy words made Rosa moan even louder. Her body trembled with overstimulation, every nerve set ablaze. “Please… have mercy… I didn’t know y…” she tried to speak, but another powerful thrust robbed her of breath and words.

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.