Bella Rosa

Revenge

WALES, ENGLAND

The red head was furious. She picked up the nearest thing she could get her hands on – a £30,000 vase – and threw it against the wall. “Say it again, Cecil,” she fumed. “I want to hear every word.” Her butler unblinkingly repeated what he had previously said.

 She now threw a table lamp. Her eyes glittered with rage as she watched it shatter and fall into the remains of the vase. “Continue,” she seethed.

Cecil repeated it over and over as an encyclopedia, three notebooks, a bottle of expensive wine and four antique paintings followed the fate of the lamp and the vase. When she was finished, she slumped into a chair and just sat there, her chest heaving in the effort to keep in her tears. When she finally raised her head to face Cecil she whispered, “But why?”

The butler frowned. “Well, it seems she didn’t know whom she had killed, m’lady – “

But why him?” Margaret Lancaster interrupted despairingly.

“I’m sure she wasn’t targeting him, theres no reason to, it was all accidental – “

“Why did he have to be at the stupid meeting?” she roared. Her fist slammed onto the office desk with each word. She got up and started to pace around the room.

“I don’t know, m’lady,” he said helplessly.

“I told him to stay away from that stupid Kraus,” she wailed, mostly to herself. “Away from that stupid Gem, the stupid Alba, the stupid council – stupid, stupid, stupid.”

 The butler waited politely for her rant to finish.

“Stupid money, stupid ambition, stupid people –“

“M’lady?” he said cautiously.

“Stupid stupid stupid –“

Cecil fidgeted.

“Stupid stupid stupid stupid STUPID –“

“M’LADY!”

“STUPID!” she screamed. She panted for a bit than attempted a smile. “Yes?”

“Er, well – we have, ah, how do you say it – “

“Get on with it!” she snapped.

“We have the remains,” he said hurriedly, cursing himself inwardly as the strained smile was wiped off her face. “Would you like burial, or – “

“Hmm.” She appeared to think for a minute. Her hazel eyes went skyward. “Cremation.” She paused. “Yes, cremation.”

“Of course, m’lady.” He turned towards the door, anxious to leave. “I will tell them right away.”

As he hurried towards his escape, a thought occurred to Margaret. “Cecil.”

“M’lady?”

“What do you mean ‘she’?”

“M’lady?”

Margaret tsked impatiently. “You were saying something, she didn’t know, she -“

“Oh, yes, m’lady.” He drew in a breath. He dreaded his next words. “The murderer was a woman.”

“Do I know of her?” she asked suspiciously, leaning forward in interest.

“Quite well, actually, m’lady,” he admitted.

Her eyes narrowed. “Who is she?”

Her butler inched out the door. “The Bella Rosa, m’lady.”

A few precious minutes slipped away as Margaret sat there, stunned. The Bella Rosa? Her strongest ally? Her partner in crime? The only person she trusted other than her dearly departed brother?

“Cecil?” she breathed. But her butler was gone.

She turned in her office chair. How dare she? Does she even know what she has done to herself?

Margaret Lancaster bared her teeth. This was betrayal. The Bella Rosa would pay a very high price for her actions. This meant revenge.