Blood & Roses

Chapter 5 -Lion's Den

THREE MONTHS EARLIER

Bianca's POV

Tremors continued to rack my body as Adrian's car sped through the night. The blood splatters had dried and were sticky on my skin. Icky!

Adrian covered me with his suit jacket, trying to warm me up and perhaps stop the trembling. I tried to sit up, but he held me tighter — so close I could smell his cologne. A woodsy, entrancing smell. I bet it was really expensive, I thought, as I nudged my nose closer to his neck, chasing the aroma. His chest rumbled beneath me as he chuckled at my antics.

I buried my face under his jacket, blushing furiously. Get a grip, Bianca! What are you doing? I asked myself.

One moment I was heading home after my shift. The next, I was embroiled in a mafia gang face-off, hiding behind Adrian Moretti while bullets flew. And now I was splattered with blood, snuggling in the arms of the most feared mafia boss in the state.

He smiled; he should do that more often. His eyes shone, and he looked handsome.

"You're safe now, Bella."

Bella. There was that endearment again.

"My name is Bianca!" But he didn't respond or correct himself.

The car pulled into a gated mansion, and my breath caught. Never in my entire life had I seen such an enormous house. Sure, in movies, but up close and personal? Never.

Sprawling gardens lit by soft lamps. I bet they would be beautiful in the light of day; they smelled heavenly too.

Adrian stepped out of the car, carrying me bridal style. No matter how I squirmed and how many times I asked him to set me down, he refused.

"Don't move!" he barked, irritated.

I was so self-conscious, especially as there were guards stationed at every corner witnessing the scene. I just realized Adrian's car had been in a convoy as we drove back to his home. This was all normal to him, but for me, I had never seen anything like it. My entire apartment could fit inside his foyer.

My apartment!

Wait — what was I doing in his house? He should have driven me home!

"Set me down this instant! I can walk."

Adrian ignored me and strode through the foyer with me in his arms. Once again, I was distracted by the opulence of the interior. This place was fit for a king. The marble floors gleamed brightly, probably polished with oil. Chandeliers glittered overhead.

I felt like an intruder, a stray dragged into a palace. Adrian carried me up a flight of stairs and down a long corridor.

"Prepare the Sapphire room," he barked to the maids, who miraculously appeared out of nowhere.

One of them — an elderly woman in her fifties — bobbed her head and began directing the others. They rushed off in different directions to do her bidding. He took me to a luxurious room designed in sky blue and white. From the paintings to the curtains to the bedcovers, it was breathtakingly beautiful in different shades of blue. Adrian gently set me down on a blue satin sofa and turned to a maid.

"Prepare clothes for her, toiletries too. Get the chef to prepare dinner." Next, he turned to me with an unreadable gaze and said, "Freshen up and meet me downstairs."I frowned at his back and huffed.

What an irritating man. Barking orders left and right.

I turned to the maid and smiled at her. She seemed nice; she beckoned me toward the bathroom. It was breathtaking! White tile with baby blue flowers. A blue porcelain bathtub sat in the middle, complete with all the bathing accessories I had never seen before. The tub was already filled with rose-scented warm water. They had sprinkled rose petals into it, with bath salts too, judging from the aroma.

I discarded my grimy clothes and slipped into the liquid warmth with a sigh. It felt wonderful.

I scrubbed furiously at the blood stains with a loofah; the water quickly turned dirty, so I drained and refilled the tub with warm water. Leaning back, I soaked in the warmth as the chills left my bones inside.

Frantic raps on the bathroom door woke me up; I was so exhausted I had fallen asleep.

"Madam, the boss is waiting. He doesn't like to be kept waiting." I sighed and rolled my eyes.

Stepping out of the tub, I wrapped a bathrobe around me. It's time to go back to where you belong, Bianca.

Clean clothes were laid out on the bed for me, all designer brands.

"Whoa!" I couldn't afford to buy them, and I didn't want to wear them for fear of ruining them, so I communicated that to her.

"The boss insists, ma'am."

Fine. "I'll return them later."

I decided to borrow them for a bit. They fit me like a glove: slacks paired with a yellow-and-white flower-print blouse and low-heeled sandals. She led me into an enormous dining hall. Everything was humongous in this house. Adrian sat at the head of a long dinner table.

How many people eat here daily?

He checked the time on his Rolex and scowled, as usual. He had also changed into a more casual outfit. I walked up to him and declared.

"I am ready to go home. Thank you so much for helping me out tonight. I wish I could repay you."

He looked at me with an unreadable face, then the corner of his mouth tilted infinitesimally into a smile.

And replied with one word.

"Sit."

.........................

Present Day – The Safe House

Bianca's POV

I woke with a start.

The dream — the memory — had been so vivid I could still feel the weight of his jacket on my shoulders, hear the low rumble of his laugh when I buried my face in his neck. Could still smell the rose water from that first night in his mansion.

For a moment, I forgot where I was and smiled. I sat up and was faced with an entirely different environment in the Safe house. My heart clenched in sadness and pain.

It's been three days since the explosion at the penthouse.

I moved to get up, but my head swam; the ache from hitting my head throbbed painfully. I paused my movement and waited for the dizziness to subside. The fog was clearing. I needed to stop behaving like a child. I needed to pick myself up and accept the truth, the truth.

Walking to the en-suite bathroom, I looked at myself.

"Oh god!"

My eyes were almost swollen shut from three days of nonstop crying, and my eyes were red. The bump on my head had gone down a bit; however, it was bluish-red in colour. I braced myself in the mirror; it took a lot of energy to keep standing.

"Bath first," I muttered. "Then get some food in you."

Thirty minutes later, I felt a bit refreshed and headed out of the room to look for Roscoe and almost collided with him.

Roscoe was outside the door; he had always been since we got here.

"Roscoe..."

"Breakfast is ready, ma'am. You need to eat."

I nodded. "Let's go." "Sit, it's just the two of us here, plus I can't finish this," I said, waving at the elaborate breakfast on the table.

"Thanks, ma'am . . . I "

"I insist!"

"He sat and poured himself a cup of coffee, unsweetened."

"Have you heard anything about ...?"

The word hung in the air like smoke.

Roscoe's jaw tightened; he didn't answer.

"Roscoe—"

"Ma'am." His voice was gentle but firm. "There are things I can't tell you. One because I don't know, and two because it's not my place."

I stared at him.

"So which category does this fall into? He did not reply. " So you know something."

He didn't deny it.

"Please." My voice cracked. I'm asking as a person who just watched a building explode with the man I—"

I stopped, and fresh tears spilled out of my eyes; I couldn't finish the sentence. Dammed these tears; I can't seem to control them.

Roscoe's expression softened.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I will make sure you are safe." Then he got up and walked away.

I sank back against the dining room chair and stared at the ceiling.

I desperately wanted to believe he was alive, I told myself. He has to be, but I couldn't keep deceiving myself, could I? I watched that building explode into flames.

I

But the doubt was a poison I couldn't purge.

................................

Present Day – Adrian's POV

Undisclosed Location

"She's asking questions, boss."

Marco's voice came through the phone, low and careful. I closed my eyes and leaned back against the leather chair of the house I was lying low in. My shoulder throbbed beneath the bandages; the medic had done his best, but the wound was deep. It would heal; they always did.

"What did she ask about?"

"About you. About whether you're alive." A pause. "She's broken but strong, boss. And she's smart; they're pulling bodies from the rubble, and soon it will be evident your body is not there. She'll put the pieces together..."

"Yeah, she's always been smart; my concern is the person who did this will also know it soon."

"Then you know she will want to find you if she does; they will, too."

I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling of the safe house — a different one, far from hers. Far enough that Salvatore's people couldn't track her through me.

"I know."

"What's the plan, boss?"

I stood and walked to the window. The city stretched below, indifferent and cold. Somewhere out there, Bianca was crying her eyes out, wondering if I was dead.

I'm so sorry, Bella.

"The plan," I said quietly, "is to end this before it ends one of us."

"How, boss?"

I turned from the window.

"Salvatore isn't the only threat now. He's just a puppet. Someone is funding him, arming him, and directing from the background."

"You think someone inside is helping him."

"The coincidences are overwhelmingly so."

Silence.

"Who's the boss?"

"I don't know yet, but I'm going to find out." I paused. "And when I do, I'm going to make an example of them."

Another pause.

"And Bianca?"

I looked down at my hands, bloodstained and scarred. Hands that had done terrible things for the sake of Moretti's name, hands that desperately needed to hold her.

"She thinks I'm dead; keep it that way for now, and don't let her out of your sight, Roscoe!"

She might not forgive me for this, but at least she will be alive, and that's what matters to me. I just had to make sure to stay alive so when this was over, I could make it up to her.

"I will, boss."

"Good."

I sighed when the call ended.

Since everyone believes I'm dead, even Salvatore, I could move without detection. I needed to find out the person behind all this.