His Fiore

12

Rose's P.O.V

"Finally!" Enrique muttered reaching around me to get a bottle of bourbon.

He took a seat on one of the chairs surrounding the marble counter and took a glass filling it up halfway. I picked up a packet of noodles and began making it on the cooker.

Enrique's P.O.V

I took a swing of the alcohol as I watched Rose make the noodles. The way she asked me about my mistresses today made me feel a really stupid fucking emotion.

Guilt.

I shouldn't have felt that way I mean, we don't even like each other and this marriage doesn't mean anything so, why should I be faithful?

Of course she can go be unfaithful too it's not like I care.

Liar.

I rolled my eyes at my annoying subconscious, who seemed to be very fond of my deary little wife. He was clearly not right in the head. The smell of spice wafted in the air as I sighed in contempt.

Is it bad that this is all I ever wanted?

A comfy night in with my wife as we made food and just stayed in complete beautiful silence.

But not with this wife. Not at all. I wanted someone I chose. Someone who I had actually fallen in love with and not my parents. Clearly, that was impossible as I am here. On an island. With my fake wife.

Great.

Although, I must give her some credit. She wasn't what I expected. She wasn't after my money or my fame, she didn't fall to my feet and beg me for sex or whatever the fuck women want.

She was just Rose.

My little fiore.

"Calm it on the bourbon, I'm not dragging your drunk ass to the bedroom" she said as she turned around with two bowls of noodles in her hands.

"I don't get drunk" I muttered.

A small smirk made its way on her face as she opened her mouth to speak but I put my hand up stopping her.

I knew exactly what she was going to say.

"We don't talk about that" I said staring at the empty glass in my hand.

"Yes sir" she muttered, the smile still sat on her face as she placed the bowl in front of me.

"You know, a small thank you never hurt anyone" she said after a couple minutes of silence.

I stayed silent and stared at her.

"Okay" she mumbled putting her hands up in defence.

After we both finished our food and the dishes were washed and tucked away, she sat with me again, reaching an arm out to grab the alcohol.

Before she could even touch it, I picked it up and held it behind me. She frowned and stared at me with her arms crossed.

"Remember what happened last time?" I said recalling the night Dante brought her home drunk after she danced with hormonal teenagers in a peasantry club.