War of A Rose

War of a Rose • Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-three
Rosaelia

I've killed before. I've killed men before. Not many but still, I've killed. No matter how many times I've pulled the trigger, I have never taken a life just because I wanted to, but tonight I did. I murdered a man in cold blood not for my own vengeance but for another woman's. Still, I can't help but feel like I was not only avenging those women but also myself. My father's men are still alive. Walking around like they deserve to be on this earth, knowing that they shattered my soul and took pieces of it with them.

Pedro walked around, carrying pieces of too many souls. And although none of those pieces were mine, I still killed him like they were. I stared at the dried blood that covered my hands. At that moment, when I had my blade plunged inside his eyeball, I felt several things. Hurt, disgust, but ultimately anger. Now, I feel nothing and It feels too much like after my assault. When I curled up in a ball on the floor of my shower, unable to feel anything at all.

That was a feeling that I never wanted to feel again. It made the weight of Alessio's words too heavy. I may be a killer, but I am not heartless. I am not sick. I am not cruel. But tonight, I was.

Liliana only stared as I climbed into the backseat of the car. Not one snarky remark was made by her the entire drive back to the penthouse, and I was grateful because truly, I might have snapped. The blonde simply sat back in her seat and kept her lips sealed. I silently thanked her for not questioning or pushing. As soon as we got upstairs, I locked myself in my bathroom.

One shower wasn't enough to make me feel clean. It feels as if even a thousand showers would never cleanse the blood that stained my hands.

Alone, I looked into the mirror, unable to stomach who looked back. The woman inside that glass box was not me. She was not even that broken soul anymore. She looked like me. Identical. But she was not me. Her eyes were too similar to those soulless pits that belonged to Alessio. Her soul was not just shattered, but blackened.

It seems you are just as sick as I little rose.

I cower from my reflection, Alessio's words ring in my ears. The bile that I stomached earlier tears its way through my throat and this time, I do not stop it. I drop to the toilet seat, heaving into the bowl.

How can I justify killing a man who is just as sick as me? Alessio is right. All this world is, is death. It's killing, lying, stealing. Shattering souls and stealing lives. I'm starting to question if I want to fight for something so cruel. I know that I keep using the excuse that things will be different when I'm in charge but the reality of this life is that it will never be different. Someone will always die. Someone's life will always be stolen from them regardless if they are still physically alive. Someone will always be hurt and someone's soul will always be shattered.

I do not want to be the cause of that. I will not be the cause of that. Sure, if I am in charge, I can treat my family better but what about all of the others? What about all of the lives that my men will ruin?

I will keep my vow. I will end Alessio's life. I will end my father's life but I will not take over for either of them. I will leave this life behind me the only way I know how, in death. The woman who wanted this life died months ago when her father killed her. I've held onto her for too long. It was the only way to survive and it has brought me nothing. It has only brought me closer to becoming something that that woman would have hated.

"Not feeling remorse for that old bastard are you?" I almost jump out of my skin at the deep voice. I look up from the toilet. Alessio leans against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips.