Lussaria; Her Final Blade

chapter seven

Rosa's head pounded, the dull throb in her temples pulling her back from the depths of unconsciousness. Her limbs felt heavy, unresponsive, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. The floor beneath her was cold and hard, the scent of damp stone hanging in the air. She blinked against the blur in her vision, struggling to shake the lingering effects of the drug.

As the haze cleared, she realized she was in a small, dimly lit room—no windows, just concrete walls, and a single steel door. Her wrists were bound with thick zip ties, secured to the back of a chair. Panic flared in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm, breathing deeply as she tested her restraints. They were tight, biting into her skin, but not unbreakable.

She had been in worse situations.

The sound of footsteps approaching snapped her attention to the door. They were slow, deliberate, as if whoever was coming wanted her to know they were in control. The steel door creaked open, and the man with the dark emerald eyes stepped inside.

He looked different now—calmer, more composed than during their fight. He no longer had the look of someone caught off guard. His movements were relaxed, confident, like a predator who had already cornered his prey.

"Awake already?" he asked, his voice casual but with an undercurrent of something darker.

Rosa glared at him, her mind still spinning with unanswered questions. "What do you want with me?"

The man closed the door behind him, leaning against it as he studied her, arms folded across his chest. "You were the one who came after me, remember?" he said with a faint smile. "I’m just trying to figure out why."

Her heart raced as she tried to piece together the puzzle. This wasn’t just about the mission her uncle had sent her on—it was something more, something personal. The way this man looked at her, the way he spoke her name… It was like he knew more about her than even she did.

"I was sent to kill you," she said bluntly, her voice steady despite the situation. "I don’t know who you are, or why, but that’s the truth."

The man raised an eyebrow, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Sent to kill me? That’s interesting, considering how many chances you had and didn’t take. Makes me wonder if you’re hesitating for a reason."

Rosa tensed at his words, her mind racing back to that moment—when she had the knife in her hand, poised to strike. But she had hesitated, something about him, about his eyes, had stopped her. Why?

He took a step closer, his emerald eyes never leaving hers. "You don’t recognize me yet, do you?" he asked softly, a strange mix of disappointment and curiosity in his tone.

Rosa frowned, her mind flashing back to the memory of that night in the club. Those eyes had followed her every move, made her feel exposed in a way she hadn’t understood. But there was more to it—more that she was missing.

"Should I?" she asked, her voice cold, though uncertainty gnawed at the edges of her resolve.

He crouched in front of her, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. "Oh, Rosa," he murmured, his voice almost tender. "You were never supposed to forget."

Her pulse quickened as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver locket, its surface worn and scratched, but still intact. He held it up between them, letting the dim light glint off the metal.

The sight of it sent a shock of recognition through her. Her breath hitched as memories she had long buried began to surface. That locket—it was hers. She had lost it years ago, when she was just a child, when everything in her life had started to unravel.

"Where did you get that?" she demanded, her voice shaky now.

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached forward, his fingers brushing against her skin as he gently placed the locket in her hand. "You gave it to me," he said, his voice soft, almost sad. "A long time ago. Before you disappeared."

Rosa’s heart pounded in her chest as the memories rushed back with a force she wasn’t prepared for. She saw flashes of her childhood—a boy with dark emerald eyes, her best friend, her protector. They had been inseparable, until the day everything changed, the day her world fell apart, the day she lost her father, the day she closed all doors to her heart.

She had thought she’d lost him, thought he had been taken from her in the chaos that followed. But now, as she looked into his eyes, she realized the truth. He hadn’t been lost. He had been waiting.

"You…" she whispered, her voice breaking. "It’s you. You’re—"

"Yes, Rosa," he interrupted, his voice filled with quiet intensity. "It’s me. And I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time."

Her head spun as the pieces finally fell into place. This wasn’t just a mission. This was her past, coming back to claim her, and the man standing before her—the man she had been sent to kill—was the one person she had thought she had lost forever.

"What now?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

The man stood, his expression unreadable. "Now," he said, "we finish what was started all those years ago."

Before Rosa could respond, the door behind him swung open, revealing two more figures—tall, armed, and clearly waiting for orders. The man glanced at them, then back at Rosa, his eyes darkening with purpose.

"Your uncle didn’t tell you everything," he said quietly, his tone laced with betrayal. "But I will."

And with that, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Rosa alone, her mind reeling as she stared down at the locket in her hand, the weight of her forgotten past pressing down on her chest.

But one name lingered in her mind..

"Nolan"