Roses and Guns

PROLOGUE “I told your mother that our family was cursed, but she chose to have kids anyway,” spoke a woman draped in black, clutching a bouquet of roses, her gaze fixed on her sister’s casket, slowly descending into the ground. “She had the audacity to leave us all behind, guess she couldn’t live without her husband,” she said. Her nose and eyes were red from endless weeping. Tears drained off anymore to shed. Her eyes dropped to Amsel and Hansel, grieving alongside her. “Listen carefully,” she implored, squatting to meet the children at eye level, “Your love will only hurt those you care about, Your Mother’s love killed your father, My love killed my husband. And your mother was killed by your love” She said, her amber eyes reflecting nothing but sadness. “ You mustn’t love anyone, not a lover, A friend, not even each other,” she urged, almost commanding. “ What did I say?” She questioned sharply. “I mustn't love anyone,” Amsel replied, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. Her brother stared blankly at their mother's casket, the mourners dressed in black and weeping in the background. “Good,” she whispered, gently brushing away the children’s tears. She stood up and gazed at her sister's final resting place with a heavy heart. CHAPTER I The sound of raindrops still lingers in the air, The conversation of people seeking comfort from the chilly weather fills the cafe, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee blends nicely with the earthy scent of dampness, creating a blissful experience. Amsel, a girl in her mid 20s, glances at her watch for what feels like the thousandth time, eagerly anticipating 7 pm so she can finally close up and get the hell out of there. The mixture of rain and drink might be enjoyable for some customers, but for her, it's the opposite. She despises how unusually crowded the cafe is and the fact that she has to handle even more work. Her tight-fisted boss would rather die than hire additional staff, which only adds to her frustration. She must earn money to support both herself and her younger brother. Losing this job is something she can't afford, so she chooses to keep any complaints or frustrations to herself. Amsel scans the cafe, her eyes falling upon a tall figure. His what seemed to be an expensive suit, decorated in blood. Her heart skips a beat as he slowly approaches her, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. He continues to advance until he is right before her. "What can I get you?" Her tone was laced with skepticism. She doubts, in his bad state, that a nice sweet coffee is what is on his mind. " Get me a first aid" he clutches his fist, wincing in every movement. " But just to clarify, this is a coffee shop, not a hospital. And I'm not a nurse." she raised her perfectly sculpted brows." And as you can see, I'm quite busy with other customers."She adds. The man pulls out a pistol and shoots at the ceiling, Chaos instantly devouring the peace. The customers squeal and scream as they scramble to get out of the cafe. "Now it's just the two of us," he said, his gaze intense and his voice resonating with depth. She couldn't help but be captivated by his striking facial features, and how his fair complexion accentuated his brown eyes. Even with the blood on his face, there was an undeniable allure about him. Shaking her head, she tried to push away these thoughts that were creeping into her mind. "Now I can head home early," she said, summoning every ounce of courage she had left. "You're not scared," he remarked, reaching out to pull her back just as she was about to leave. "The only thing I'm scared of is getting fired if I can't clean up all this blood you've decided to paint my cafe with," she replied, a touch of frustration in her voice. "Hearing my name alone sends shivers down anyone's spine," he continued. "And your name is?" she asked, curious to know. "Kenshi," he replied with a hint of pride. "Wow!! I can feel the shiver down my spine," she said, adding a touch of playful sarcasm to her response. "Please, I need first aid," he groaned, clearly in more pain from stretching over the counter to stop her. "Fine," she sighed. Well, he did say please, she thought to herself. She made up her mind to go and get the first aid kit. "Take off your shirt," she said, coming out with the first aid. He complied, removing his suit to reveal his blood-covered, yet impressive, chiseled abs, strong arms, and sculpted chest. She couldn't help but appreciate the artwork of his physique, silently marveling to herself. "I didn't take off my shirt for you to admire my body," he said, his expression remaining stoic. "I wasn't admiring you, just wondering why you didn't mention your name before getting beaten this badly," she replied, her face turning red briefly before she looked away. She proceeded to clean his wound before applying a bandage. "It wasn't a fair fight," he finally answered the question she had asked a few minutes ago. "Mmhh," she murmured without looking at his face, focusing her attention on the wound she was dressing. As she applied more pressure, he clenched his fist tighter. He couldn't tear his gaze away from her face, realizing just how dangerously gorgeous she was. Her amber eyes flickered with warmth and depth, reflecting the hues of a setting sun. Every feature on her face seemed to perfectly complement her eyes, from her loose dark curls to her captivating smile. "I'm not treating your wounds just for you to admire me" she teased, flashing him a playful smile. "I'm not admiring you, just wondering why you aren't a nurse," he replied, his expression still emotionless. With a sigh of relief, she declared, "I'm done, lemme get a mop," and turned to grab a mop from the nearby door. "What's the mop for?" he asked as he started to put his clothes back on. "Well, the floor isn't going to clean itself, is it?" she retorted, continuing towards the door. When she returned with the mop, he was nowhere to be found. "Now, who's going to clean up this mess? Me?" she sighed in frustration. Glancing at her watch, she realized it was already 7 o'clock. Instead of closing up earlier, it seemed she would have to spend extra time cleaning up the blood. ************ Kenshi sat in his office, his brows furrowed slightly as he read through the contract. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the polished wooden desk. “Who in their right mind crafts such a disastrous deal?” Kenshi exclaimed, shoving the paper. “A single task, and he messes it up,” he remarked with a calculated calmness in his voice. “Sir, we've been observing her. She works in a café, lives alone, and has no friends…" a man spoke, stooping to retrieve the stray paper. “A cafe?” Kenshi interrupted. “No one will notice if we bring her in,” the man continued, drawing Kenshi out of his thoughts. “And what am I supposed to use her for? Human trafficking? Selling her organs? How will she pay back my money?” Kenshi asked, his voice filled with a sudden flash of rage before softening into a neutral mask. “We don't do those things, Sir,” the man replied, despite knowing it was a rhetorical question. Kenshi closed his eyes briefly, took a deep breath, and asked, “Where is Fazio?” as he slumped back into his chair. “Out of town, but he'll be back soon,” the man replied. “What about the boy who made the deal?” Kenshi inquired. “Nowhere to be found, Sir,” the man answered. “But if we bring the sister, she might know where he is.” he continues. “Go and get her then,” Kenshi said, dismissing the man with a wave of his hand. ********* She strolled, pushing her way through the crowded street. Cars honks pierces through the city. Suddenly, a man bumps into her, causing her to exclaim“ Watch it”. She narrowed her eyes as she stared at her ice cream melting on the pavement. Unable to tolerate the crowd, she detoured into a dimly lit alley. A sudden screech of brakes pervaded the air, causing her to jerk. Before she could react, two men seized her. She gasped as she fought back, using every ounce of her strength to hit and kick. They pulled her into the van, disappearing into the crowded city.