War of A Rose

War of a Rose • Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six
Rosaelia

I couldn't handle the revelation. It didn't make sense, and I didn't want it to because if it did, then that would mean that it was real, and I simply couldn't handle that. I wouldn't. Because if I did—if I accepted that Alessio ensured that the two people who meant the most to me were okay, regardless of my father's betrayal, then I would also have to accept the fact that he was not as cruel as I wished he was. And that would make it so much harder to kill him. He could have slaughtered my family in cold blood. He had every right—every reason. Yet he kept them alive. That was a debt I did not want to owe him.

After her confession, I left Liliana sitting at the bar by herself. I needed to gather my thoughts, and the only place that seemed comforting was the balcony that overlooked the city below. I sat out there for hours, long after the sun had set and Liliana had not come after me. No one did. I sat curled in a ball in one of the lounge chairs, uncaring of the harsh coldness of the night air.

It must have been the middle of the night when the elevator dinged inside. I didn't need to turn to see who stepped through it. I could hear the guys as they entered the penthouse. They were home, back from wherever they went. When the light flicked off behind me, I knew that they had gone to bed. All of them had walked past me, and I would thank them for it tomorrow.

I rise from the chair and lean over the balcony railing, taking in the busy streets below. Illuminated and alive with people no matter the time, I wished so badly that I could have been one of them. Free and unburdened with this life.

"You're not going to jump, are you?" A husky voice questions behind me, causing me to jump in surprise.

No, I wasn't, but that didn't mean that it wasn't tempting, "What do you care?"

"I never said I did," They say, sounding closer this time, "But I also never said that I don't." This time they are standing next to me.

"I just think they won't appreciate the dry cleaning bill it will cost them to get your blood out of their clothes." They joke while looking down at the many people traveling down the sidewalk.

I turn to the intruder; Pietro's soft blue eyes welcome me in the darkness, "You're probably right. It's a bitch to get out." A soft chuckle fills the night air as he laughs at my comment. The reaction is contagious—a quiet giggle of my own mixes with his.

When the chorus dies, I question, "Why are you out here?" 

His eyes narrow, "Why are you?" My own words are thrown back at me.

I smirk, "Touché." Neither of us continues the conversation. We just turn back to the life below us, appreciating the silence surrounding us.

This is nice. His presence isn't overbearing or annoying. He doesn't try to intrude or insult me. It's like he understands me, the way he looks down at the city, the same way I do. I know I said I was grateful for them ignoring me, but now I am thankful that he didn't. I didn't need someone to come out here and comfort me. I just needed someone to exist with me.

Now I understand why he will be Alessio's consigliere. He will make a great advisor and friend.

The next morning when I awoke in the lounge chair, he was gone. I smiled to myself. Inside, everyone was still sleeping. I crept inside my room and was in the middle of getting dressed for the day when Natalia knocked twice at the door before inviting herself inside. I turned to her, waiting for an explanation as to why she was in my room. My laundry was done three days ago. The towels in my bathroom had been restocked.