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l'amour l'emporte (m.) love wins

ROSABELLE

"Are we really going to do this, miss?" Nino's tone sounded nervous as he asked from beside.

I faced him with the same anxiety expressed on my face. "Why? Do you feel guilty now, Nino?" Despite that, I joked to lighten the mood because feeling discomfort about anything wouldn't help us in any way rather than bringing unnecessary anxiety.

Before noon today, I had talked with Dad, and he'd asked me if everything was alright. I reassured him that nothing was wrong.

Except everything was.

I was on my Dad's private jet now, returning to Chicago. Without Emi's awareness.

"N-no, of course not," he smiled slightly at my question. "Do you think he'll leave us alone, though?" Fear strangled his voice, but I returned him a gentle smile in response. "I believe he won't."

I hope Emi doesn't leave me alone for that, though I betrayed his trust. He'd told me that we'll go through this together just this morning, but here I was, defying his decision like it held no meaning to me.

It did.

But I had to face my Dad's wrath alone. Emi doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve anything I do.

My Dad had told me not to fall for a Russian man.

I fell.

And I believe that I'll return to Emi's arms soon. I hope he accepts me as well.

"Thank you for your help, Nino," I was genuinely grateful for the man for keeping this situation a secret from my Dad. Without his cooperation, I wouldn't have been able to do it alone. Because one word from him would make my Dad lose all his trust in me, not that I was far from it now. "I thought you feared for your life."

He smiled again, and it was the first time in my life I saw a hint of care flashing underneath his wrinkled eyes. "I do fear for my life, miss. But not more than your unhappiness. I don't want you to lose your light."

I don't want you to lose your light.

That was true. I'd lose my light without Emi.

Because his darkness was the only source of my light. He filled my light with his shadow. And I wanted nothing beyond him.

I'd fight for us. I'd cross a thousand of Pacific for us.

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I sat before the three men like a convict in a dark room, forced to confess my sin and seek forgiveness.

Rafael had a cocky look, as if he was the only know-it-all man here. And technically, perhaps he was. But that didn't mean he had to be playful even in this.

That's what his problem was. He was apathetic.

Or maybe he just didn't care. Then, however, why were my instincts telling me that he cared more than most?

Who knows.

On the other hand, I could nearly feel the disappointment my Dad and other brother were showing toward me; their expressions said much more than that.

But it wasn't the disappointment that I fell in love. It was the one for that I betrayed their trust.

"I'm sorry, papa," I exclaimed in a broken voice, tired of my own self. Tired of everyone and everything.

"Does your apology mean that you'll not even dream of going there again?" Dad's tone was harsh, and I felt hurt. "That was never an option, papa."

"So you came back only to return to him once again?" I nodded. And then I felt him throwing something across the room in anger, making me flinch. "Damn it, Rosabelle!"

My eyes teared up. "Papa," I held on to the last bit of hope I had. He looked at me with the same anger filled in his eyes, indicating that there was no room for redemption. "The only thing I've ever asked of you, Rosabelle Sofia de Luca, is that you never fall for a Russian man. Girls from mafia families at your age are being forced to get married to men twice their age. And I never did that, neither would I ever do that. I'm giving you the freedom you need and deserve as a human being, even though you were born into a world of ruthlessness, including letting you fly over any country anytime you want. And that's how you decide to repay me, Rosabelle?"

His hands were shaking as he continued, "You want to spend the rest of your life with a Bratva? He's our enemy, for God's sake!"

"I'm sorry, papa-"

"Keep your sorry in your pocket, sister," Rome interrupted the conversation for the first time, venom in his tone as he said, "You'll never be seeing that Russian again. You'll go to college if you want; otherwise, stay at home, do whatever you want, and then get married off to an Italian when you're ready and we find a suitable candidate for you. You'll forget any Russian you've fucked. End of the case."

My breath caught in my throat at his words, dread in my eyes as I shook my head frantically. "No, please," I stood up and made my way toward my Dad, kneeling before him as I rested my hand on his kneecap. "Please, papa."

"Look up at the sky, baby sis," Rafael said at that moment, grinning like a maniac when I looked up at him. "There are birds. And there are planes," he mused before fixing his posture, as if preparing for a fight.

There were no birds in the sky. There were no planes either. But it didn't take me long to realize what he meant.

Emiliano Nikolayev is coming for me.

Rome smirked along with him, tilting his head cockily before looming down on me. And I could see the hunger for bloodshed so clearly in his eyes that I wanted to crawl away from his sight. "You've unleashed hell in Moscow, sister," he started, a dark smile still on his face. "Now sleep tight, and let us take care of that."

"No!" I screamed and looked at my dad, "Papa, I agree that you've given me everything I needed. But I could swear on my name that I've never asked for anything in my life," the cruel demeanor on their faces seemed to falter a little, and I stood up.

"And all I ask for is for Emiliano Nikolayev. Does your enmity matter to you more than your daughter's happiness?"

The room went quiet, and my Dad stood up from his chair, uncertainty in his gaze.

"You can't emotionally blackmail us now because of that, Rose. You and I both know that ending years of hostility is not that easy." Rome pondered, only for me to scoff.

"It's not impossible either."

"You-" Rome was about to protest once more, but Dad stopped him from doing so.

Romario was a prideful man. He'd never go to reform an alliance unless the other party came by themselves and demanded their wish to form one.

But everyone knew better.

Emi wouldn't come for an alliance. He'd come for war.

"We'll see what happens tomorrow, cara," Dad said, calling me by my nickname for the first time since I arrived in Chicago. And it was the first time I smiled ever so slightly, as my heart started healing its broken pieces. "I trust you, papa."

I bid them goodnight, but nothing about the night was good for me.

I could barely sleep a wink. My whole heart was close to exploding with anticipation of what was going to happen tomorrow.

Emi had come to take me back.

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