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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
The Alliance Dance of love and betrayal
ROSALINA'S POVMy fingers trembled as I hit the call button. Even in the mirrored dressing room, I felt the heat blooming on my cheeks. This was madness, calling Alessio again, but the uncertainty gnawed at me like a starving beast."Hey, Rose," He said, with a hint of hesitation. "Alessio," I swallowed. "Is Leo…" I couldn't bring myself to finish the question. The possibility of him not being there, in the audience tonight, was unthinkable. Leo was mad, I knew that, but this conflict was fixable. We just needed to talk it out.A sigh, heavy and final, hung heavy on the line. "Yeah, about that…""Just tell me!""Look," Alessio's voice tinged with a sympathy I wasn't sure I deserved. "Move on. Leo… he's not coming. He's moved on."Moved on? How could he? After everything we had? "No," I choked, a strangled sob escaping my lips. "Please, Alessio. Just make him come, talk to him. After the performance, just five minutes, that's all I ask."Silence stretched on the line. Then, hesitantl
The Alliance First Act
LEONARDO'S POVThe stage lights, harsh and unforgiving, sliced through the gloom of the opera house in the heart of Manhattan, casting long shadows on the velvet seats where I sat. Two of Rosalina's female cousins squealed when the curtains lifted, but all I saw was her. Dressed in a white feather costume, gliding across the polished wood like a graceful swan.But it wasn't just her that held me captive. It was the unnamed dancer whose hand brushed hers with an intimacy that sent a viper of jealousy slithering through my veins. Their steps, synchronized yet separate, spoke a language I could barely decode. My gaze narrowed on his hand on the curve of her waist, the way the back of his hand grazed her cheek. Was it the choreography or the intimacy they shared off-stage? The thought of another man's hands over her body, that I had claimed for myself triggered the green-eyed monster gnawing at my soul. With each spin, her tutu became a blur, a white cloud swirling around her. But then,
The Alliance Dance of the black swan
ROSALINA'S POV Kohl-black eyeliner went on thick, contrasting against my pale skin, matching the obsidian feathers now adorning my costume. The red contacts stung a little, but they were worth it. No more watery hazel, these eyes gleamed like embers.My heart hammered in my chest, not the timid flutter of the innocent swan, but the fierce thump of a predator. This was me, Rosalina, unleashed. The white swan might have fooled them, made them see me as the fragile victim. But the black swan? She was vengeance in feathers.Archer stood in the doorway, his jaw clenched tighter than usual. Ever since Liora ended up with a fracture, Archer had been in a grim mood.He reached for my hand. "Don't mess this up," he warned, his voice rough."Don't worry," I smiled, my voice wrapped with a newfound confidence. "I'm gonna make them tremble."***ROSALINA'S POV(18 years old) (Flashback)In Dr. Emily's office.Tick.Tick.Tick.Pale blue walls, the scent of lavender oil barely masking the steril
The Alliance Taken away
ROSALINA'S POV"Remember what the doctor said? Your leg needs time to heal, and any extra strain from dancing could slow down the process or even make it worse. We want you back on your feet soon, so let's focus on following the recovery plan and hold off on the dancing for a bit." My eyes turned deaf to any sort of consolation from Mr. Bennett.This injury feels like a cruel joke. Everything I've ever pushed myself for, every sacrifice, every aching muscle... for this? To miss the chance that defined my entire career path? Valentina's curse replayed in the back of my hazed mind, clear as a lucid nightmare. "I hope you never dance again." She said. And that was what had happened. I missed the biggest opportunity of my life."What about the show?" I asked.Mr. Bennett's eyes turned to Sophia standing at the corner. "Sophia will play the final, Odette. Since she looks like you a little and with the makeup, the audience will barely notice a thing." "I'm so sorry, Ro," Sophia said, her
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