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Steady flame
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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
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,
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