𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒂

𝗳𝗶𝘃𝗲; 𝗿𝗼𝘀𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗲

My eyelids were heavy, and the world outside was bright.
Too fucking bright.

What exactly happened last night?

My last sober thought was thinking that vodka was a good idea.
My last memory was Aiden threatening to kill everyone within a 30-mile radius.

The only thing I was sure of was that this was not the place I passed out.

Silk sheets and floofed up pillows encased my body.

Instinct was telling this wasn't the place I threw up either.

"Good morning sunshine," Aiden's voice appeared from behind the door. He was holding a large mug of black coffee and a pack of aspirin.

"For the last fucking time don't call me sunshine."

"Fine...sunshine."

I gulped down the coffee and took the white capsules.

"So, what exactly happened last night?" I asked sheepishly.

"Well apart from you nearly stripping off to a room full of people, throwing up in my cherry tree and punching me around the face, nothing much."

Shit.

"I'm going to work," he muttered, turning around the corner to leave before suddenly turning back, "by the way, welcome home."

☾︎༒︎☽︎

I had never wanted a large house.

As a girl I had dreamt of a small cottage in the middle of the English countryside, living with my one true love.

Now I stood in the house of a man who I quite frankly despise.

The exterior was old and gothic.
High rising turrets and pillars engraved with small delicate symbols, omens of death.

Whilst the interior was sleek and modern.
A show home if there ever was one.

I cascaded down the staircase, a marble centrepiece that led into the main lobby, only to be greeted by a maid.

She was a young-looking girl, barely over the age of 14 I would think. Her ruby red hair was beautifully juxtaposed with her forest green eyes, much like a paradox. She looked like a doll that had been poisoned by the bittersweet reality of life. Her porcelain skin and fragile frame only building upon this point.

Somehow, she reminded me of my former self, I found my fingers tangled in my hair as I reminisced over the naïve little girl I had been. The girl I would never be again.

Auburn wasn't my natural hair colour. If it only it was maybe my hair wouldn't be so dead. I dyed it on my 15th birthday. My mother told me I looked too much like my father. She used to tell me it as a compliment, you look just like your dad.

But sure enough it eventually became an insult.
The very worst kind.

I hated the dark curls that framed my face.
Bleaching and trimming them beyond recognition.

I guess I could have made my hair straight for good, but in a way, it was a subtle reminder of everything I used to have.

"¿Necesita algo señorita?" the girl asked.

Spanish was among the many languages I can not speak, so if everyone within my husband's life speaks Spanish, we may run into yet another problem.

"She asked if you need anything," a man appeared from behind me.
I recognised him from the wedding.

His dark hair was gelled back to the extreme and his dark eyes were framed by what looked like fake spectacles.

"I'm Matteo by the way," he smirked," and you must be Rosalie."

"Rosa."

"Rosa it is."

The maid was still stood beside him.

"Ella no quiere nada, gracias," Matteo said.

"Matteo where the fuck are you? We have business to attend to," Aiden's voice boomed from the neighbouring room. 

"Must dash," Matteo let out yet another smirk, I presume that was his personal signature.

This life, this world, this atmosphere was completely different to the one I had been submerged in a matter of days ago.

No longer could I speak Italian and have everyone around me understand, nor could I anticipate what was happening around me for the language they spoke was unbeknownst to myself.

This was my life now.
And I would have to suck it up and deal with it.

𑁍❣︎𑁍

Hey again.
This chapter is much shorter than others because a lack of imagination was coming through.

Rosa, as in the whole book, will only be around 15-20 chapters when completed, so a lot happens in a short time.

Stay safe, and take care.

sending love,
m<3