𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒂

𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗿; 𝗮𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻

Rosalie De Luca sure knew how to play hard to get.

It wasn't that she was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, for I had seen women possess far more beauty that she could dream of.

Instead, it was the fact she seemed immune to my manner.

I was the villain: somehow women found that irresistible, and who was I not to play it to my advantage?

Yet my wife, the one who should be susceptible to my charms could do nothing more than blink at my advances.

Instead, she sat by the drinks table, swigging a bottle of vodka on our wedding night.

"Rosa."

"Aiden," her words were slurred, but only slightly seeing as she had chugged half the bottle by now.

I glanced at her for a moment. Something about her was different.

Her hair was still a mess.
Her eyes still molten gold.
So what was it?

Was it the diamond that decorated her left ring finger?
Or was it the resentment that was slowly bubbling away in her soul?

"What do you want Aiden?"

"Nothing sweetheart, I'm just admiring how delicately you swig vodka."

"Fuck you," the words left her lips so sweetly they sounded almost like a compliment.
Almost.

She was a mystery.
I'd heard things about the De Luca dynasty, everyone had.

Despite Caterina being a business partner of mine for years, and my father before that, she never let on as to whether they were true or not.

It was undeniable the death of Lorenzo De Luca was an unfortunate incident and theories of his business partners ratting him out to the wrong people had immediately circulated.

That was nothing uncommon. With every death a new rumour got spread around.

Did you know he did this?
Did you know she did that?

Never did I expect the rumours to be true.

☾︎༒︎☽︎

Rosa was dancing on the table.
On the fucking table.
Dancing.

A small crowd had formed around her, mainly what looked to be lonely old men.
Lonely, lonely old men.

"What's going on here?" Matteo asked, his Spanish accent slipping of his tongue.

Matteo was the resident party animal, and somehow took up the title of my best friend. Somehow, he was heir to a fortune larger than any amount of money I would ever own in my lifetime.

"Holy shit, is that your wife?" he let out a laugh.

"Shut up."

"No, no," he held back another laugh, " she is definitely your type, the number of times I've seen you dancing on table about to remove your clothes."

"Remove my clothes?" I turned to see Rosa fiddling with the back of her dress, being helped by a dodgy looking guy, " fuck my life."

I walked behind the man, who I quickly recognised as a business associate of Caterina.

"Get your filthy hands off my wife or I will be forced to shoot you," my pistol pushed gently into the crook of his neck, "and we all know you have a wife and kids to look after."

It seemed to stop him; he lifted his hands in defeat and began walking away.

Now just the ever-growing crowd of scumbags to deal with.

"If you boys don't bugger off, there may or may not be a serial killing," the words were harsh and firm.

They seemed to work however, the crowd dispersed, leaving an incredibly intoxicated Rosa lying on the table.

"Aidieeee-poo," she slurred, "howw aree youuuu?"

"Pissed off. Now come on sunshine, get up," her body slumped at my touch.

She was heavier than she looked, but then again that could simply be the precious jewels weighing her down.

"Nooooo, I likee it hereee."

"On the table?" I said unconvinced.

"Don't youu glaree at mee Spanishh gizaa."

Spanish giza.
What the fuck?

"OK I think that's enough vodka for one night," I grabbed the bottle from her hand, chucking it in the opposite direction.

"Do youu haaate mee Aidieee-poo?"

"Yes."

She frowned.

Maybe she was expecting me to say I didn't hate her, but if there was one thing my father taught me, if nothing else, was never to lie.
Not for ethical or caring reasons, in fact quite the opposite.

If you never tell a lie, you are less likely to be killed.
The more truths you tell, the less you do wrong.

See?
I told you, selfish.

I turned to find Rosa dancing again, choking out the words of Last Christmas, a new crowd of younger men had now formed.

"Ok," I muttered, grabbing her wrist," if you don't shut up now, I may have to shoot all these men for looking at my wife; do you really want all of these deaths on your mind?"

"Noooo, I hatee deathhh," she whined.

Interesting.

Gently, she stood up, using the tables and any stationary object for support.

I guided her to my car and plugged in her seat belt.

If tonight was anything to go by, Lord help me.

𑁍❣︎𑁍

Heyyy!

Hope you enjoyed this update, definitely not the greatest but we need to get some background in.

Is it only me who aspires to be drunk Rosa when I grow up?

Have a fabulous day my darling, and make sure to take care of yourself ❣️
I'm always looking for more friends so my messages are always open ✨️

sending love,
m<3