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Complications
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The Alliance A dance of deception
My ballet instructor Madam Marisha used to say, that love is a beautifully tragic dance, where every step is a delicate balance between ecstasy and the agony of a thousand heartbreaks.I debauched in the ecstasy that love granted me, it was blinding, passionate, kind...It was everything I missed in life. But I wasn't ready for the heartbreak, a sudden pirouette that spun me into the dark abyss, where the music of love abruptly changed its tune, and the once graceful movements became a chaotic choreography of misery, leaving me stumbling on a stage of shattered promises.This... pain of separation. It resonated with the one I had eighteen years ago when I was five. When my life took the most tragic turn. ***ROSALINA'S POV(5 years old) "Who is he?!"The vicious roar rattled my little body with fear, freezing my sock-clad feet that stood just outside my parent's bedroom door. Cold perspiration prodded out of my pale skin like little poison syringes of dead. With my breath caught i
The Alliance Steady flame
ROSALINA'S POVThe sunlight dripped like honey through the stained-glass window, painting dappled patterns on the flour-dusted countertop. I kneaded the dough with a rhythmic vengeance, frustration simmering alongside the rising yeast."Honestly, Rose, you threw away a diamond!" Isabella's voice, sharp as a stiletto, pierced through my self-pitying haze. "Leo finally came around, finally ready to settle down, and you… you let him go?!"I gave the dough a particularly vicious punch, its soft groan mirroring my own. "It's not that simple, Izzy. He's a playboy. Remember what happened to Selena?"Izzy scoffed, her perfectly manicured cherry nails clacking against the ceramic mug she sipped from. "That was college, Rose! People change. And Leo… he adores you. You're the whole package, brains, beauty, and that firecracker spirit he finds so irresistible."I winced at the word "irresistible." It always sent a shiver down my spine, a delicious yet dangerous warning. Leo's charm was a hurrican
The Alliance A fallen queen
ROSALINA'S POVMy calves throbbed like they were hosting a rave for angry bees, and every plié felt like my spine was auditioning for Cirque du Soleil's crack team of contortionists. Mr. Bannet's latest tirade echoed in my head, a symphony of hissy fits disguised as constructive criticism. "Where the hell is your mind, Rosalina?! Stop acting like an idiot and concentrate!" Ugh, the man could turn a compliment into a character assassination faster than you could say "plié jeté."I swear to GOD, ever since he found out about me dating Leonardo, he had been far more disgruntled with my performance than he should have. Nitpicking every little flaw he could find with the eyes of an eagle prying on its prey. It was like jealousy took up permanent residence in his beady eyes. Suddenly, the music screeched to a halt. A collective gasp rippled through the audience, sharper than a dropped tiara. My gaze whiplashed to the stage, and my breath hitched like it was caught in a grand jeté gone wr
The Alliance Curse
Liora's mom, a vision of frosty fury in diamonds and Chanel, stared me down as if I'd just eaten her poodle the second I stepped out of the hospital room. "I'd like to have a word with you, come with me," She commanded. At first, I wanted to refuse, but then, I owed Liora so much and this was her mother, whether Liora liked her or not. It would be rude of me to refuse. She led me past sterile corridors and hushed whispers, her heels clicking a staccato rhythm against the polished floor. The opulent VIP waiting room felt like a world apart from the fluorescent bleakness of the rest of the hospital. Plush leather sofas swallowed you whole, and a crystal chandelier dripped light onto polished marble coffee tables laden with silver trays of gourmet finger food.Ignoring the spread, she headed straight for a secluded corner where a single armchair sat like a velvet throne. Her diamond-laden fingers tapped a restless rhythm on its armrest, a stark disparity to her steely glare as she ges
The Alliance A traitor
LEONARDO'S POV"You were shot?!" BANG!The items on Enzo's desk went flying as soon as my palm contacted the table. Enzo, however, looks as unbothered as if this were any mundane day in his life. But I suspected it was getting less and less mundane with Lily around. But that was not the point. "Yes, and I survived because Luca shot the bastard before he could drill another bullet into my chest," Enzo said calmly, his hands clasped together on his desk. "Hah..." I chuckled derisively. Made sense why Luca would suddenly start flaunting his 'new' Maserati on social media. I wondered why would Enzo give away his most-priced possession to that dumb fuck. "I saved your life more than one time, Enzo. And even then you never let me lay a finger on your Maserati." I taunted. "I know you're a generous one, but not generous enough to give away your Maserati to that idiot.""Are you complaining?" He asked, narrowing his razor-edged eyes. "More like making an observation." He smirked. "I see
The Alliance Dirty fed
ROSALINA'S POVI finished the en pointe sequence, my heart hammering a frantic tattoo against my ribs. Applause, polite and restrained, pattered on me, but I barely registered it. My perfect arabesque, the culmination of months of sweat and sacrifice, felt worthless.Even Mrs. Petrova thought the same. "What a shame it is that Liora broke her leg, isn't it? Such a talented girl." Mrs. Petrova's voice, dripping pity, was the knife that cut the final string of my forbearance. "You stole her role!" -poisoned thorns twisting in my gut. Each graceful movement, each flawless pirouette, felt like a betrayal. I wasn't dancing anymore; I was drowning in a sea of guilt and doubt.Was I, the understudy, the opportunist, who snatched the crown from the rightful princess? My legs, once instruments of grace, felt heavy as lead as I stumbled out of the stage. Tears welled up, the pain of getting crushed under the weight of accusations and expectations becoming unbearable. I needed air, escape. "
The Alliance Don't ever lie
ROSALINA'S POV The rain hammered on the windshield, a relentless rhythm the same as the disquiet in my stomach. Across the sleek leather seat, Agent Mattews, with his steely eyes and a black suit that seemed sculpted to his broad frame, leaned back. "So, tell me about yourself, ballerina," he drawled, his voice like honey adulterated with something sharp."What do you wanna know?" I countered, my voice a touch cooler than I felt."Name, for starters."Russo. The name stuck in my throat like a fishbone. It was a legacy I couldn't afford to share with a federal agent, so I plucked another, a name from a forgotten movie poster. "Lina Bianchi," I said, the syllables foreign on my tongue.Amusement danced in his eyes, brief but unsettling. "Italian, huh?""Yeah," I mumbled, tugging at the damp hem of my shirt. Silence settled, heavy with suspicion. He studied me, each second stretching like a length of barbed wire. Just as the pressure threatened to crack me open, he leaned back, a ghos
The Alliance Please let it spark
ROSALINA'S POVThe lobby, usually buzzing with the hum of gossip and lively chatter of old ladies, felt like a tomb tonight. Pushing open the heavy oak door, I inhaled the stale air, the scent of dust and disinfectant a familiar comfort.Frankie, perched on his stool by the elevator, looked up. His weathered face, usually etched with a lively grin, was creased with concern. "Hey, Frankie, how have you been?" I forced a smile, the words hollow in my throat.He sighed. "Oh, I've been fine and dandy, young lady. Same as always, watching the world go round from my little corner."My smile faltered. "I bought you some food," I mumbled, the paper bag heavy in my hand. "Italian, of course.""Always," he rumbled, his voice a low tremor. His calloused fingers brushed mine as he took the bag, sending a jolt through me that had nothing to do with the touch. It was the unspoken question hanging in the air, thicker than the aroma of simmering marinara."I forgot to mention," he said, his voice ba
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