The Blossom of Rose

5 • Sincere

TW: Self-harm

"...incorporate a 24-hour customer servi-," I say aloud as I type when suddenly my laptop is closed shut.

"What the-Calla!" I narrow my eyes up at her, annoyed.

"The Rose Romano Incorporation has just been appointed the most popular fashion brand of the year making you the youngest successful businesswoman in the world!" She squeals and waves around a copy of the magazine. I grab it from her hand and inspect it. The cover contains a candid image of me, which I slightly cringe at, and the headline and cover lines read exactly what she just said.

"Yeah, because I made that deal with Prada. Their demand declined and Miuccia Bianchi approached me and asked me to help her so I bought their company. Got to help my Italian folk out," I smile proudly.

"That was not in the news until recently. You were in Italy two years ago," she furrows her eyebrows in thought.

"I had to keep it a secret. Couldn't have Dad finding out where I was," she visibly cringes and apologises.

She hands me the rest of my mail and I flick through it. Calla rambles on about how she'll be able to get free things. I come across a brown envelope and my curiosity peeks. I rip it open and take out the first paper which has printed words.

'Oh Rose, you're smart. Maybe you can help me, I'm in sort of a dilemma. Do you recognise these two people?'

This is strange. I unload the contents and discover a collection of images. As I realize what they are, my eyes widen and I rapidly flick through them.

There's a series of shots, all from the first night I slept with Luca: me straddling him, us engaged in a kiss, him pulling down the zipper of my dress, us pulling away with his face in clear view and him flipping me onto the bed. Because the window is in the photo, it was clearly taken from outside the room.

After it is a paper reading, 'ah, Mr Luca Armani. But who's that gorgeous redhead?'

The next bunch is of the day we were followed. The shots contain the windscreen of his car with his privatised, bold number plate 'ARM4N1' in the centre. Frantically, I run through the photos. We're both in the frame but what piques my interest is the fact you can clearly see my face. I sit in shock staring forward, while he watches me. Flick. He's leaning in very close to me with his hand on the side of my face. Flick. His lips meet mine. Flick. He pulls me over the console of his car and his hands run down my back.

This can't be happening.

'I'm pretty sure your father will be interested in seeing these. I'll be in touch, my angel.

P.S Venom is death ;)'

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," I curse repeatedly and drop the images onto the island. My breathing picks up. Anxiously, I run my hands through my hair and hold my aching head.

My dad will butcher me. He already hates me and after seeing these, he'll erupt. He'll butcher me.

Calla realises and her whole demeanour shifts as she too looks through the pictures. "That's kinda hot," she blurts out and I ignore her comment, shutting my eyes. She realises and fumbles to explain herself, "I mean the content of the pictures, not the context. Like, look at the way he's looking at you. Ugh, my heart."

First, we were followed and now we were being watched this whole time. People were watching me. They saw me naked. They watched us have sex. Twice.

My body shudders in disgust and bile works its way up my throat. Running to the bin, I throw up in it and when my brain comprehends everything that happened, again, the stinging in my throat returns. Calla holds my hair back and rubs my lower back, soothingly.