The Vicious Scent Of The Mafia's Black Rose

Brinda's POV

“…That’s it. There’s nothing more I can do.” Dr. McMasters’ voice was calm—too calm—like the words didn’t just tear through the last thread of my sanity.

My vision blurred, not from tears—those had long dried up—but from the sheer weight of his finality.

It felt like he had just sealed my fate.

Have you ever been in a situation where it feels like everything you’ve ever known—everything you’ve ever loved—is slipping away right before your eyes?

Have you ever had a near-death experience so real, so raw, that you looked up and asked the heavens why you were still here?

Have you ever searched for answers or for a way out of the storm in your soul—only to find silence?

That… is life.

That… is fate.

Yours can never be mine, and mine can never be yours—not even if we share the same blood. Not even if we were born on the same day.

No matter how hard we try, fate always takes its course—leading us either to destruction or to salvation.

The truth can be buried in the darkest grave. Flesh can burn in the cruelest of flames. But reality… reality always rises. And when it does, it comes to collect.

“You need to start looking for the money, Brinda. There's nothing much the hospital can do.” He said, his voice dropping drastically. I watched closely enough to see that he couldn't stop the tears that he was trying so hard to control. 

“Please… I have no one. Who will I turn to?” I asked him, my voice gentle. 

“I can't help you. You've just worked with us for a month. Your salary can't cover it nor can the hospital cover your expenses. You have to find a way to save your mother yourself.”

The room fell dead as he threw his words at me before he staggered into his personal bathroom while I gripped the hem of my scrub. 

My knees buckled as the door shut behind him. I stood there, caught in a silence so thick it choked me. My thoughts spiraled—how do you process the kind of news that rips your soul from your body?

I pressed my back against the cold wall, willing myself to breathe. My mother... The one person I had left in this world. And now…

She has just been diagnosed with Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease. A condition so cruel, it crushes your lungs while you’re still alive. And she needs surgery. Seventy-two hours. That’s all I’ve been given.

A month ago, I started working in Greenfield hospital after my graduation from college. I was hoping to receive my salary then go on some shopping spree with my mother but that was a dream that would never come true. 

Earlier today, I ended my shift and bought some food on my way home. Stepping into the living room, I met my mother coughing and holding on tight to her chest at the same time. 

I had to rush her to the hospital here only to be told she has COPD. 

And whose fault is it? 

Mine! 

I had not paid much attention to her for the past few days. I have been so preoccupied with work that I barely had time to focus on her though I noticed that she had lost some weight. 

With no family, no friends, no accomplice, I picked up my phone and headed to the ward where my mother was laid but when I got to the entrance, I couldn't enter. The tears that had dried up inside me began to flow out and I covered my mouth to stop me from shouting before I stormed out of the hospital. 

Everything is coming to an end…

My breath quickened as I ran further from the hospital building. I headed towards the main road at full speed and when I was about to cross the road, a familiar hand pulled me back. 

I bit his hand, instructing him to leave me alone and let me do what I had in mind but he wouldn't. He just remained calm as usual while I dug my teeth into his flesh. 

“It's okay. Bite me as much as you can.” Peter whispered his soft manly voice into my ears. 

I let out a sigh as I got my sanity back. I pushed back from his body before I covered my mouth with my hands while I stepped backward. 

“I'm sorry.”

That was all I could say before I darted towards the main road again but he pulled me back into his warm arms. 

“It will be fine.” He muttered, his voice soothing like that of a baby just learning how to speak. 

I almost lost a footing but he was able to grab me and carry me in his arms to the nearby roadside eatery. We sat in the dimly lit room before I started to sneeze. He offered me a handkerchief. 

“I know you must be devastated with the news. But it's not the end, Brinda.” He wrapped his hands around mine as he crouched down beside me. “You have to live well.”

“I can't let her die.” I teared up again. 

“She may not be your biological mother, but she’s the one who raised you. She picked you up from a junkyard when no one else would. She ran with you, hid you, and sacrificed everything for you.”

Peter’s eyes held mine, unwavering. “She didn’t just try her best, Brinda… she became your mother. Through every tear, every scar, every struggle… she made you hers. And if you want her to survive, then you must live to find a solution, right?” 

I nodded my head in response. 

“And we will find the solution together. How much time do we have left?” He asked, sniffing. 

“Seventy two hours,” I retorted. 

His face went pale instantly though, he tried to hide it but he has always been a bad liar. He can't lie. He doesn't know how to. 

“We will find a way out.” 

I watched him move away from my side while I gulped down some water. He raised his phone to his ear, dialing some numbers. 

After some minutes, I saw him stomp his feet on the ground in disappointment. He raised his phone up in the air and he was about to smash it on the floor when I shouted his name. 

Hearing that, he stilled. 

I got to where he was and placed my hand on his shoulder, “I can't watch you grieve like this because of me. It's not worth it. I'm not worth it.”

“You are the one grieving,” tears rolled down his cheeks. “And it's worth it. Is our love not strong enough? Your mother, Sarah, took me as her child. How can I leave you in such a critical time like this? How can I let her die?” 

I swallowed hard and closed my eyes simultaneously. “I will find the money. I will be right back. Please, make sure you keep an eye on my mother” 

“Where will you go? What will you do? How will you get the money?”He grabbed my arm. 

Where do I tell him? No. I can't. Some secrets are better off kept. There is only one solution now and that will be what I will follow. After all, living in this world feels meaningless…

“To the place it all started.”