War of A Rose

War of A Rose • Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen
Rosaelia

Where ever Niccolò and Liliana went, they had been there for hours. At the same time, I'm in this outrageous penthouse with Alessio. He hasn't really bothered me much since we got here. Granted, I didn't really give him a chance. I made a b-line for the bathroom as soon as I could find it. I spent half an hour in there just trying to wipe my face. There wasn't enough water in the world to cleanse what I had just done. No matter how hard I scrubbed my lips with a washcloth, I still felt dirty.

After that, I had no choice but to return to the living room area since my master didn't take the time to assign me a room. I've been sitting on the white sofa for the past three hours. Ignoring Alessio every time he entered the room. I can't even bring myself to look at him. Not after what he made me do. I'm humiliated. Ashamed. He knows that, and he loves it. He's been pretty absent since we got here earlier today. He keeps going in and out of the room at the end of the hallway. Whatever's in there isn't keeping him very entertained. I've been so born I started counting the minutes in between his entering and exiting. About thirty minutes exactly. Four times now, he's made his way to the bar and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

I watch the little hand strike the six on the clock and listen as the door clicks open. Footsteps thud down the hallway as he heads to the bar. This time, I'm half tempted to throw the bottle at him along with his glass. Then maybe he can stay in the fucking room. I turn my head in the opposite direction of the bar. The sound of his glass clinking against the countertop echoes throughout the silent space. He's lucky I don't chuck the damn thing at his head. Or better, drop it on the floor and make him clean it up with his tongue. Maybe I'll even call him a good boy.

"Fucking pig," I mumbled under my breath, sinking deeper into the couch cushions.

"Did you say something, Rosa?" When he did not receive a response, he headed back down the hallway—locking himself in that room again. Just as the door clicked shut, the elevator doors slid open, revealing Niccolò and Liliana.

I leaned forward, half expecting at least one of them to greet me. Liliana only glared from the corner of her eyes as she passed the couch and headed down the hall. I forgot about our little altercation earlier. Now she knows that whatever friendship she thought we shared before we arrived in the city was fake. I don't expect Niccolò to even breathe in my direction. He's heard enough threats from his capo today. Like Liliana, he walks directly past me and down the hallway. Leaving me stuck on this stupid couch with nowhere to go and nothing to do aside from watching the clock for the next thirty minutes.

I only made it half the time before I hauled myself off of the couch and over to the bar. Alessio's bottle of whiskey called out to me. It promised to rid the thought from my brain. To numb the pain inside my chest. I poured a full glass, hoping to feel the emptiness inside of me. Fifteen minutes before the half-hour, Alessio clicked the door open and headed down the hallway. I stared down at the glass in my hands. I should down it before he sees me.

I lift the glass to my lips, "If that glass so much as touches your lips, I will lock you in your room for another week."

"Another week? I wasn't aware I was already sentenced to one."

"After your little stunt you pulled today, you're lucky that's all you're getting. What you deserve is a bullet between those pretty green eyes."

I lift the glass higher, almost touching my lips, "So then do it, Alessio. What's stopping you?" He's made it clear that he only keeps me around to hurt me. To embarrass me. To eradicate my pride. I'm half tempted to let him empty his gun in my brain. Maybe that will feel the hole inside of me.