Rose Alexandria Sinclair“Need a hand?” a gentle voice asked as I busied myself with weeding the garden.I glanced up, and my breath caught for a moment. The man standing before me had one of the most captivating faces I’d ever seen—calm, warm, and utterly magnetic.“I’m Edward, Ma’am Sarah’s son,” he introduced himself with a friendly smile.“Oh…” I stood slowly, wiping my hands on my apron. He had already extended his hand, so I shook it, feeling a bit flustered. “I’m Rose Alexandria Sinclair.”“That’s a beautiful name,” he said, leaning casually against the wall. “I take it you’re new around here? I haven’t seen you before.”“Yeah, I am,” I replied softly.“Makes sense. I just got back from college myself. Anyway, it’s nice to meet you.” He gave a small wave, his smile lingering, and walked off.I found myself smiling after him. Who would’ve thought Ma’am Sarah’s son would be this… charming?Still, I reminded myself why I was here. Focus, Rose. As I got back to work, Mrs. Emilia wa
Rose Alexandria Sinclair"I'm sorry I put you through this," I said softly, helping Nathalie clean and bandage her wounds. She didn’t say a word at first, just nodded, her expression distant.After a long stretch of silence, she finally murmured, "It's okay… it’s not your fault either."I wasn’t sure if I believed her, but there was no time to dwell. Nathalie suddenly straightened up and said, "It's time for the night route… we’re both up!" She reached out to help me to my feet.Night shifts. One of the many things I hated about this place.The rules in this house were ridiculous. No eating after ten in the morning. No talking to the guards under any circumstances. It was stifling, suffocating.What was Red into? Mafia? Something even worse?As we walked out of the room and went our separate ways to begin our shifts, I couldn't help but notice the men stationed around every corner of the house.Dressed in black. Always with those dark sunglasses, even at night. Something wasn’t adding
Frederico Grey Di Grazia I leaned against the doorway, shrouded in the shadows, my arms folded as I watched the scene unfold. Rose’s startled expression as the lights flickered on and off amused me, her nerves evident in the way she clutched the feather duster as though it could protect her from whatever she thought was lurking in the darkness. And then he walked in. Edward. Ma’am Sarah’s overconfident son. A muscle in my jaw tightened as I watched him move closer to her, his laughter echoing through the room like an irritant. The way he looked at her, spoke to her, dared to touch her—it grated on my nerves. His audacity was almost comical. He was playing with what was mine. Mine. I watched as he leaned closer to her, brushing her hair away with a familiarity that turned my amusement into irritation. My fists clenched at my sides. What gave him the right to invade her space like that? To make her blush, to steal a smile that wasn’t his to take? The tension in my chest tig
Frederico Grey Di Grazia;As soon as I entered the room, I slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the silence. My mind was a storm, chaos spinning out of control.What the hell had happened back there?I stalked her like a predator, got furious when someone else touched her, and then… I kissed her.What kind of madness was that?Running a hand through my hair, I paced the room, my thoughts as erratic as my breathing. I needed a distraction, anything to pull me out of this spiraling mess.Grabbing my phone, I put on an old Italian ballad, the familiar melody filling the air as I threw myself onto the bed. But no matter how hard I tried, she was there.Rose.The curve of her body. The way her skin flushed under my touch. Her defiant glare, and the sound of her moan—it haunted me, taunting me in a way that felt maddeningly cruel.My jaw clenched. Why the hell was I acting like some hormonal teenager over a stupid, infuriating kiss?Shoving my arm over my eyes, I willed myself t
Rose Alexandria Sinclair:"What the hell?! You kissed Edward?!" Nathalie screamed, her voice echoing around the room. I quickly clamped my hand over her mouth."Do you want me to sleep outside tonight? Keep it down," I hissed, glancing nervously at the door. Nathalie pulled my hand away and burst out laughing."This is insane! You’re crushing on Ma’am Sarah’s son? Girl, you’re asking for more lashes on your back," she teased, rolling her eyes playfully.I winced at the reminder and reached for the ointment to tend to the fresh scars from the flogging Ma’am Sarah had ordered. "Speaking of that... does it still hurt?" I asked, dabbing the salve onto her wounds.She shrugged nonchalantly. "It’s fine. Not like it’s the first time this has happened.""Really? Tell me more."Nathalie leaned closer, lowering her voice. "Don’t you see it? The Boss is in some kind of occult.""Occult? Be serious," I replied, raising a skeptical eyebrow."I’m not joking!" she insisted. "Always dressed in black,
Rose Alexandria Sinclair;"On your knees." That was all he said. Thirty minutes later, here I was—still kneeling, watching this arrogant bastard sip his whiskey like he owned the damn world."This is ridiculous, Red. Why are you doing this?" I asked, my patience wearing thin.His gaze snapped to mine, his voice a low growl. "For the last time, Rose, don’t call me Red. Don’t. You. Dare."I rolled my eyes, muttering under my breath. "Bastard.”He finally stood, swirling the last of his drink. "You can get up. It’s past midnight."And just like that, he was gone, leaving the private lounge without another word. I stood, stretching my stiff legs and glancing around the dimly lit room. A heavy sigh escaped me.I couldn’t do this anymore. Not the kneeling, not the power plays, and certainly not dealing with his melodrama."Oh, I’m the great Frederico Grey Di Grazia. No one dares cross me." Please.I glared at the door he’d walked through. “How did he even get this rich? And what the hell ha
Rose Alexandria Sinclair;“Dad… how could you say that?” I snapped, my voice shaking with anger as I clutched the phone tighter. Standing in the communication room—the only place staff were allowed to make calls—I fought to keep my emotions in check.“Rose, don’t you want your mother to get better?” his voice came through the line, heavy with guilt and desperation. “She’s in the hospital, Rose. No proper food, no care… nothing.”I shut my eyes tightly, the sting of unshed tears burning. My chest heaved with frustration.“Ask Frederico for help,” he continued, his tone hardening. “He’s your ex, isn’t he? He owes you something!”“Pa!” I nearly shouted, the word bursting from my lips like a crack of thunder. “How can you even suggest that? You know what happened… you know what he did to me! It’s because of your loan from him that we’re in this mess in the first place. You’ve dragged all of us into this—Mom, Grandpa… me! And now you want me to crawl back to him?”“For crying out loud, Pa!
Rose Alexandria Sinclair;Edward led the way, his grip firm but gentle on my arm as we walked through the quiet paths of the estate. Nathalie trailed behind us, her loud footsteps crunching the gravel.“So, where exactly are we going?” Nathalie chimed in, her tone dripping with suspicion. “Or is this some secret lovebird getaway?”Edward sighed, glancing over his shoulder. “Do you have to comment on everything, Nathalie?”“Of course. I live for this stuff,” she replied with a grin, clearly enjoying herself.I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible, you know that?”“Thank you! I’ll take that as a compliment.”After a few more minutes, we turned a corner, and the view ahead stopped me in my tracks. A gentle waterfall tumbled into a sparkling pool, surrounded by lush greenery and dotted with turtles sunbathing on the rocks. The sunlight filtering through the trees gave the place an almost magical glow.“Whoa…” I breathed, taking in the beauty of it all.“Told you it
Federico Di Grazia;With the election only months away, my team and I were busier than ever. I had a lot on my plate—meetings to attend, business deals to oversee, and associates to manage. But it wasn’t just politics keeping me occupied. The underground mafia world had caught wind of my run for governor, assuming foolishly that my focus on the campaign meant I’d be too distracted to keep my grip on the streets.I needed to remind them. I ruled both worlds, and no one—not even another mafia family—could overthrow a Di Grazia.James brought me intel the other night."Boss," he said, "word is your campaign has stirred up the mafia. They think you’ve gone soft. Sources say your push for legitimacy has made you look… less ruthless."I leaned back, absorbing his words. "Is that all?"He hesitated before adding, "Your rivals believe you’re trying to play clean, avoiding violence to maintain a political image."I smirked. Listening to more of this bullshit wouldn’t help. "We need to remind t
Rose SinclairThe incident with Master Stephen plagued my mind all day. I couldn’t shake the endless possibilities running through my head.Lady Roseline would be the most exquisite bow I’d ever seen, and as an archer, I dreamed of one day holding it in my hands.But Master Stephen made it clear—it belonged to Red. Off-limits. Untouchable. No exceptions.The Trip & the Shooting TestThe rest of the trip was eventful. We saw old pistols, modern machine guns, even an MI16. But nothing captivated me like that bow in the restricted room.With three days left before our shooting program began, we gathered notes on bullets, arrowheads, and other essentials. I’d already started picturing myself shooting, imagining the thrill of it.Fun, right?Wrong.We were taken to a practice room where Tier 3 was having a shooting test. Each of us received a set of headphones. For what? To listen to Lady Gaga while we fired? Or were they meant to feed us information in this madhouse filled with guns and b
Federico Di Grazia;I was trying to wrap up some paperwork before my meeting with the confraternity later today. Being a senator was no small task, and my right-hand man, James, and I had worked tirelessly—pulling an all-nighter to stay ahead. The campaign team had dropped off samples earlier: T-shirts, hats, banners—everything a politician needed.I know, it sounds like I don’t fully belong in that world. Right now, I see myself as an interim, just until I officially secure the position—which, by the way, is already in motion.A soft knock on the door pulled me from my work. I arched a brow at James, who responded with a silent I’ll check it out look. I gave him a slight nod, granting permission.He moved to the door, cracked it open just enough to peek outside, then swung it wider for the visitor—my head of security, Theo Bennett.Theo gave a small bow before stepping inside. “Morning, Boss.”“Theo,” I acknowledged, my focus still on my desktop. “Something wrong?”“Boss, you have a
Rose Sinclair;After my last encounter with Trix, we barely spoke or even saw each other. Instead, she sent her new Tier One minions to deliver her threats from a distance.But one fateful day, I decided I’d had enough. Her madness had gone unchecked for too long, and it was time to do something about it.That decision came right after our usual jogging routine—something I can proudly say I’ve improved in. At least now, I run faster than most Tier One trainees.Yeah, so, I chose to confront her. And I knew just the place where our little chat wouldn’t interfere with training—where I could finally ask her what the hell her problem was.The cafeteria.I grabbed an empty tray and joined the queue of trainees waiting for their food. Picking up an apple and a bottle of water, I turned toward the crowd, scanning the room for one particular crazy bitch.There she was, surrounded by her Tier Three minions. Lucky for me, the seat right beside her was empty.So, I did something crazy.I walked
Rose Sinclair; The resident doctor cleared me for discharge last night. By 5 AM, I was already up, showered, dressed in casual clothes, and ready for whoever was coming to pick me up. The past week had been nothing but a cycle of monotony, with the old TV in the ward playing the same fighting techniques over and over again.By now, my mind had memorized those moves—not by choice, but by sheer repetition. The more you’re exposed to something, the more your subconscious absorbs it. That’s just how the brain works.I sat on the bed, waiting patiently. By 6 AM, Mad Max Waltz walked in. His sharp eyes scanned the room before locking onto mine.From across the ward, Max held my gaze in silent challenge. The tension thickened, an invisible line drawn between us. There was nothing I liked about him—his cruelty, his demeanor, his complete lack of kindness.His piercing blue eyes seemed to drill into me, unwavering. My eyes watered slightly from the intensity, but I refused to look away. I wan
Federico Di Grazia;Her hand on me made my skin crawl. I let out a long-overdue sigh—Trix was history. I’d had plenty of "history" before, but I never got attached, and I sure as hell didn’t go back."You got something to say?" I asked impatiently, waiting for her to get out of my way."You haven’t called, texted, or even asked me over... so yeah, I’ve got something to say." Her arms crossed, bitterness lacing her voice.I let out a small chuckle, rubbing my temple with one hand while the other rested on my waist. "You knew the rules—no strings attached. Why would I do any of that just because we had a few nights together?" My tone was sharp, deliberate.She scoffed, disbelief flashing across her face. She looked away for a moment before locking eyes with me again. "That twerp in there is why you’re acting like this, huh? That weak-ass, dumb-ass had you running back in here?" She accused, like she had some claim over me."You sound entitled, Trix… or should I say Beatrice?" I watched
Federico Di Grazia;The Godfather had arranged a meeting at an exclusive golf club. Golf wasn’t exactly my game—I’d barely played—but on a bright, sunny day, surrounded by the city's wealthiest and most influential men discussing business and politics, I couldn't ask for a better setting.Stepping onto the pristine green, I knew that making a strong first impression was crucial. I had done my homework, studying the habits and interests of the businessmen and politicians I was about to meet. Confidence, trustworthiness, and the ability to listen—these were the currencies of power in this world, and I intended to use them wisely.As I approached the group, I offered firm handshakes, meeting their eyes with measured curiosity. The game had yet to begin. Senator Moretti, a man in his late seventies, regarded me with a hearty laugh. Dressed in an all-white ensemble, he looked every bit the seasoned statesman. He might have aged, but there was no mistaking his power—half the city’s politica
Rose SinclairA sharp ringing tore through my skull, drowning out the world. My vision swam, my eyes burned, and the roar of the crowd faded in and out like a bad signal. But I didn’t need to hear them to know what they wanted. Their faces said it all.They wanted me dead.I forced myself to focus, but my head felt like it had been stuffed with cotton. Across from me, she stood with a smirk, fists clenched. Trix. She was studying me, waiting. Then I saw it—every time she attacked, she shifted her weight onto her back leg. A habit. Maybe even a weakness.Her stance tightened. I barely had time to react before she lunged. My body moved on instinct—I jumped onto her front leg. Bad move. We both went crashing to the ground."Ouuu!""Damn!""Shit!" The crowd’s shouts cut through the haze.Trix recovered first. She shoved me off, sending me sprawling onto my back. Pain exploded through me. Before I could even catch my breath, she was on me, straddling my waist.Then the punches came.I bare
Rose Sinclair"Hi, I'm Marvel. Tier 2."The girl who had earlier advised me to fall in line whispered just loud enough for me to hear."I'm Rose. What’s Tier 2?" I asked, my voice low. I had no idea what she meant.She didn’t answer right away, her attention flicking back to the two men engaged in hand-to-hand combat. They moved with precision, anticipating each other’s attacks like they had memorized each other's fighting styles. Every punch, every block, every counter seemed sharper than the last, the blows landing with bone-crunching force."In here, we’re ranked in four levels—tiers," Marvel finally explained. "Tier 3? Might as well be beginners. They have no special skills, just basic combat training. Tier 2 fighters—like me—are stronger, faster. We have specialties, something that makes us stand out. Then there's Tier 1, the best of the best. They don’t just fight in the war grounds—they go on missions for the Don. You don’t mess with them."I kept my gaze on the fight, trying t