Brinda's POV

I didn’t know how I got back to the hospital. One moment, I was leaving that hellhole with tears rolling out of my eyes to my cheeks, and the next, Peter was gently shaking me awake. I yawned effortlessly as the sun rays radiated on my skin.

“It's morning.”

Morning?

How the fuck is it morning already? Why had I not confronted Donald? Why was I crying out of the club like a fool? What the hell happened immediately I stepped out of that club?

I grabbed my head, trying to see if I could remember anything.

Peter crouched down beside me. I heaved a sigh of relief before I hugged him tightly for some minutes. His sweet saint reeked my nose. He also rubbed my back gently.

“You went back there, didn't you?” He asked, his voice calm. He released his body from mine and gave me a sad smile.

I swallowed hard, my heart beating faster. He could see through me, and it wasn’t hard for him to guess what I had done. Wait.. don't tell me…

“I brought you back here. There's no need to lie. You shouldn't have gone back to the club.” He said, his voice heavy with concern.

“I had no choice,” I said, the words like stones in my mouth. “Once Mom’s better, I will stop. I swear. I just need money for her treatment That's all.” I folded my arms, bracing myself for his response.

Peter looked like he was about to argue, but after a long moment, he sighed, defeated. “Fine. Mom’s health matters.”

He walked to the shelf and came back with a basket in hand. He off-loaded the flasks in it and gave me one while he took the other for himself.

“Have you been able to get any money?” I broke the silence as we ate.

“I borrowed eight thousand. Begged everyone I could. I know it’s a lot… but it’s Mom. I…”

Peter was still talking when I jumped from my seat. “Eight thousand dollars?” The flask fell off my hand, the food spilling on the floor.

“Yes, why are you so surprised? I had to borrow from a lot of people. Mother's life is important.” He said calmly as he stood up.

“You're such a darling.” I whispered softly with relief.

He smiled and enveloped his body around me. A smile played on my lips as I let out a satisfying smile due to the warmth of his warm body.

We ate his food together since mine had already spilled on the floor. When we were done, I entered the bathroom and took a quick bath. Thankfully, I had some extra clothes just in case I was on night shift and would be returning home in the morning.

As I tied my hair into ponytail style, Peter's voice came from behind, “I wish every mother had a daughter like you.”

As soon as we stepped out of the hospital, the sun beat down on us, its heat suffocating. Peter gave me a warm sweet hug before he turned right to get the money and I would go to the club.

With a smile still on my face, I noticed four black cars parked across the street, tinted windows hiding whoever sat inside. But I didn’t have time to worry about them.

I hailed a taxi and headed to the club, my mind racing. The place was nearly empty when I arrived, the few patrons scattered like shadows in the dim afternoon light. I quickly made my way to Donald’s office, but I met him outside his door. He ushered me in and quickly locked the door after he entered.

He sat on his seat and started counting stacks of cash.

Frustration bubbled inside me, and I tapped my foot impatiently, waiting for him to speak. When half an hour passed and he still hadn’t noticed me, I stood and slammed my hand on the desk.

“Donald, am I that invisible? Pleaee, I need my pay.”

“Come here,” he commanded, his voice low and dangerous. I walked toward him reluctantly, my heart hammering.

“I’ll give you your money,” he said, holding up the bundles of cash. “But…” He smirked, and before I could react, his hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer.

A cold wave of panic washed over me. No. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He had tried this before but I stopped him and now, he wants to try it again? No!

I pushed him away, but he was too quick. He forced me against the table, pinning me in place as his hands moved to pull up my skirt. I screamed, but the sound was muffled in the noise of the bar.

I fought back—kicking, punching—but he was relentless, a predator who was determined to get what he wanted.

“Stop!” I cried, tears stinging my eyes. “Please…”

Instead, his lips met mine, his tongue sliding in, and I bit him hard. He yelled in pain, but it wasn’t enough to stop him.

In a burst of rage, I shoved him off and grabbed the first thing I could—a knife from the table. My hands shook as I gripped it, but I knew I had to defend myself. My chest heaved with terror, my mind whirling as I raised the knife.

He let out a cry from the bottom of his soul. He fell to the floor grabbing his shoulder where I had stabbed him. My hands flew to my mouth before I ran out of his office, my body trembling.

But, I believe that I have taught him a lesson.

~~~~~

Tears blurred my vision as I stumbled back to the hospital compound, where I found Peter begging the doctors. His face was pale with worry, and I felt a knot tighten in my stomach.

Then, my mother’s body was wheeled out of the hospital.

I ran to her side, my body trembling with fear. I threw my arms around her. I could still hear her faint breathing but my heart got shattered into pieces.

Dr. McMasters' eyes locked onto mine, disappointment burning in them. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he pulled out his phone, showing me a video of me dancing at the bar last night.

Shame flooded me as I covered my mouth. It’s against the rules of the hospital for its staff to work as a stripper. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me up.

“You won’t be able to work here anymore,” Dr. McMasters said.

My world shattered at that moment. Everything I had done—every sacrifice—was for nothing. And now, the only thing left was the fury that burned in my chest.

I used to believe love could save the world. That night, I learned the world never cared to be saved.

But there came a question that lingered in my mind, “Who sent the video to Dr. McMasters?”

$Chapter

Brinda's POV

The weight of yesterday’s trauma pressed heavily on me. My mother had been thrown out of the hospital, and I was left with nothing but remnants that could ruin me.

The little money I saw in my locker at the club was gone. All the people who promised Peter some money had refused to give him. And the balance from my salary had been paid to the hospital which can't be reversed anymore.

At that moment, I sealed my fate. It is finished.

Amidst that, Peter's cold hands wrapped around me from behind, my skin froze but his hot breath melted the cold away quickly. “Don't worry. We will save her.”

“What will you do?” I asked, my voice calm. “Will you trade your life for hers? There's barely twelve hours left. What miracle can happen?”

“I understand this is taking a toll on you but we will have to keep trying. As long as there is life, we can't lose hope until the last minute.”

Peter's words gave me some encouragement and I understood that we would have to keep on trying till the last minute. My eyes travelled to the bed where my Mom laid unconsciously.

She had given me life by struggling to raise me and I would do the same. I would fight the whole world for her because she deserves it.

We had some cereal in a hurry after taking our baths since there was nothing left to eat in the house. Peter gave me a bone-crushing hug like never before and pecked my cheek then he placed his lips gently on mine, pushing his tongue into my mouth.

I closed my eyes as I let go of my worries and let his actions take control of my thoughts. He pushed his tongue far deeper into my mouth and he let out a groan while I tightened my laps together as my right hand reached out to the back of his head.

My left hand went low to his pants zip but he stopped me. “Not now. We can do this later. We need to save Mom first.”

“Of course… and I would devour you.” I smirked.

“I can't wait!” He chuckled, adding a wink.

I locked the door carefully and dropped the key in my bag. Peter wrapped me into his warm embrace again and I loved it, my body twitching with delight.

Peter darted away quickly, ticking his hands into his pants. I smiled at his playful side before I moved towards the main road. My phone rang.

The number was private.

My stomach sank. My mother was no longer in the hospital. Peter couldn't have called with the number. Maybe, it's an angel who would help.

I answered quickly, hoping it was someone—anyone—who could help.

“Hello?” I didn't wait for the person to respond before I continued, “Who is this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Brinda, you have two options,” the voice on the other end said, a deep, menacing tone that sent a chill through me.

Fear crawled up my spine. “What options?” My voice was shaky, trembling with the weight of the unknown.

“Will you come meet me?” The voice asked, ignoring my question.

“Yes, but… who are you?” I couldn't stop asking the same question over and over again. There was silence from the other end and I remained there waiting for a response.

“You haven’t moved, Brinda. What are you waiting for? Or are you still the cold-hearted Brinda I used to know?” The voice was calm but laced with something darker.

I glanced around, feeling the sharp, oppressive sense of being watched. The black cars. The men in black suits. Who were they?

“Why are you doing this? I’m already in distress. How can I handle all of this?” I begged, my voice breaking under the weight of everything.

“A cab is waiting for you across the street. Get in,” the voice ordered.

Nervously, I scanned the street. I saw the cab, parked across from me. With no other choice, I walked to it and climbed in.

“Tell the driver where to go,” the voice instructed.

I refused to speak. I wouldn’t give them control over me, not yet. But the cab started moving anyway. It was clear now—the driver was in on it too.

The ride to an unknown destination felt like an eternity. My hands gripped the seat, and my mind raced.

What was waiting for me at the end of this ride?

After what felt like hours, the cab stopped. I stepped out, and my breath caught in my throat. There, at the edge of a cliff, was Peter standing there as if he was instructed not to leave the spot. I screamed his name, but he didn’t react. He was just there staring at me.

My phone rang again.

“Do you think that you should punish him?” The cold voice on the other end asked.

Punish him? Why should I punish him? He had always stayed with me every step of the year since I knew him three years ago.

Never would I be an ingrate.

“I will help you make a choice. Did you know that your lover was the one who showed Dr. McMasters the video of you stripping?” The voice inquired.

My breathe caught in my throat with a voice in my head screaming, “NO!!!” I raised my head to look at Peter who lowered his gaze.

My skin crawled with unease. And my eyes burned with indignation, “How dare you?” I voiced, my heart pounding in my chest.

“I didn't want you to go back. That's all! I have been staying with you, following you around like your dog. I didn't expect you to start changing sides by going back to that motherfucking place. Can you see what problem it had brought us? Who are these people by the way?” Peter said with no ounce of remorse in him. Instead, his voice was cold and unwelcoming.

I wondered if he was the same Peter who hugged and pecked me a few minutes ago. Was he the same Peter who stood by me always? Was he same Peter I wined and dined with for three years? Was it the same Peter that I shared every detail of my life with or maybe not?

“Peter, what are you saying?” I cried, tears rolling out of my eyes as I walked slowly closer to him, ditching the distance between us.

“I can't believe this. Why? Why would you do that? I trusted you. I loved you. I gave you everything but you…”

I was still talking when Peter cut me short of words, “Don't lecture me. I was only fighting for us. I was fighting for our future. Your mother won't make it, so it's better to start thinking ahead and…”

“Shut the hell up!” I screamed, my voice echoing through the area. “Why were you trying to do?” I grabbed his shirt and shook his body.

“There is no race we will run. With the amount of time left, she will die. We shouldn't have false hope.” Peter replied.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Then, what were your sweet words for? To make me believe that you care?” I questioned, tears still flowing out of my eyes.

“No, I was only helping you. I was saving you. If I hadn't pulled you back that night, you would have been dead. You owe me.” He said.

I felt a rush of anger within me and I stomped my feet on the ground angrily. He moved his hands around my arm and it only made my skin crawl with unease. I yanked his hands off my body and I heard his scream.

He was falling backward. My eyes widened and the anger I felt vanished away in a second. I reached out to him and grabbed his right hand, stopping him from falling off the cliff.

With me holding his right hand, he managed to get his left hand on the edge of the cliff. I began to pull him up but I hadn't done much when I was kicked from the side.

My hand got released from Peter's as I fell to the side. I watched a foot step on Peter's left hand that gripper the edge of the cliff. His scream echoed through the air as he fell into the abyss below.

My body felt numb as I stared at the spot where he had fallen, his last cry still haunting my ears. I let out a soul-wrenching wail from the very depth of my soul while I stretched my hands towards his disappearing body.

The sunset began to cast a red glow across the horizon as my breathing increased rapidly. Who was the bastard that stepped on his hand? Who had let Peter fall off the cliff?

I turned slowly and saw him.

The man who had orchestrated all of this. The masked man. His presence was commanding and terrifying. His laughter reverberated through my ears before he placed his hand on his face and removed the mask.

My jaw dropped, my eyes mixed with a fearful glint locked onto his, my hands shook uncontrollably, my breath caught in my throat and fear etched itself on my face like a mask.

“Francesco Dante,” I whispered, the shock and horror filling every inch of my being.

As Francesco crouched down beside me, he was accompanied by the thundering sound that was soon followed by unexpected droplets of rain.

My heart sank as his face came into the view—clear enough for me to see it. It's been five long years but he remained the same.

Why didn't I recognize him at the bar?

I gripped the hem of my clothes as the memories of our past flooded into my head. He locked his eyes on mine for the first time letting a sly smile appear on his face.

Five years ago, Francesco was my boyfriend. We both worked tirelessly to make ends meet which included me working as a stripper and him working as a bar attendant then he vanished out of nowhere leaving me an eternal scare.

He raised his head and inhaled deeply then he brought his face back to our normal level. “It's so nice to see you again, Brinda.”

“And it's not nice to see you. You bastard!” I yelled.

He chimed, “I know I'm a bad person, damsel but who is more terrible between us?” He cupped my chin in his hand. “Where is the old Brinda? This new Brinda I'm seeing is a weak one.”

“Stop saying nonsense,” I said, removing his hand from my chin. “You've lost the right to touch me years ago when you left me all alone. You're a wicked person and… I regret having met you in this lifetime.”

“Who cares?” He said icily which forced me to touch my chest which was beating rapidly. “Well, I'm here for a purpose.” He declared.

“What purpose? I can't help you with anything,” I replied.

“I need you, Brinda. I need the Black Rose. The one who inserted rods in throats to kill, the one who would do anything to hide a dead body, the one who once chopped a body into one hundred and eighty pieces. Where is that side of you?”

The Black Rose, which happened to be me, was a spy under Alpha Exposition—A spy agency, popular in the underworld, but can't be heard of outside.

While struggling to pay my fees in college, Cecilia, my friend, introduced me to a man who was the leader of Alpha Exposition. Later, I got to know the man was her father, Andrew. I was ordered to deliver drugs and as time went by, Andrew saw through me and realized I had the potential. I was the type he was looking for. One fateful day, he called me into his office.

Guess what?

He told me to be his personal spy. My duty then was to secretly monitor all the activities in the agency. I accepted the offer and did really well after which, I resumed my training to be a brutal spy.

All I needed was the money so I worked really hard.

When I started killing high-profile citizens, I got a job at Donald's clubhouse where I mostly attract my targets and silence them at the snap of my fingers.

Things went perfectly well until the sudden demise of Andrew evoked chaos and Cecilia's elder brother attained power. He dismissed us all, including me, not knowing that I was the real deal.

“Black Rose died years ago and I'm not going back to that lifestyle.” I finally answered after a long silence.

“Look,” he said and dipped his hands into his pocket before he walked to my back, brought his head to my ears then whispered, “I’m not here to bargain with you. I'm here to instruct you on what to do?”

My eyes shone brightly as I was ready for a showdown. I should have known there was nothing good that would happen with his presence. “I can't fulfill your request,” I told him. “Wait, how did you know Black Rose?” I asked, surprised because that was meant to be a secret I would take to my grave.

And where the hell did Francesco get so many men that worked for him? How did he get so much money? Did he have a hidden identity or something?

And most importantly, why is he back? To begin my death by making my life hell?

$Chapter

Brinda's POV

“The Black Rose… The most wanted spy and criminal in New York City. The one who had executed over a hundred assassinations in three years. Who hasn't heard of the Black Rose? As for me knowing that you are Black Rose, you shouldn't be surprised. Did you forget how we were? I simply went through your things but… I kept it a secret.”

“You're a cheater. And why was the need to kill Peter?” I demanded as color drained out of my face.

“All cheaters should die.” He said acerbically. “Put that aside. All I need you for is to help me find my father's killer, retrieve the crypt key to open the Black Book, and sideline my opponents in the Mafia…”

“Mafia? What the hell have you gotten yourself into?”

“I am trying to be nice to you because of our past. Don't take advantage of it and look me in the eye while I'm talking.” He growled and pulled my head downward. “In return, I promise to save your mother.”

When I realized I had just few hours left, I made up my mind but I won't do the wrong thing. “I can't accept your offer.”

I looked at Francesco annoyingly before I turned to walk away but the men that alighted from the other cars earlier with Francesco had guns in their hands, particularly, pointed at me.

A mischievous smile played on my cheek as I ignored them and walked away peacefully not thinking of anything else but to save my dying mother.

As I settled at the backseat in the taxi, I lowered my head and tears came rolling down my cheeks. All I could say was, “Francesco, why? Why are you back?”

And my Peter? He's gone? Just like that?

Quickly, I pushed the thought away and focused on the issue at hand—How to save my mother.

But I couldn't help but be reminded of Peter. He had always stood by me. Ever since I met him years ago and still had a broken heart because Francesco disappeared out of the blue.

Now, I was the one who killed Peter. I would assume I did.

Brinda, why?

I tapped my head gently as a series of headaches awakened in my head. I managed to open the door and entered the house. When I got to Mom's room, there was nothing. Mom was missing as well as her medical treatments and the like.

“Francesco,” I called out. I wailed as hot tears poured out of my sockets heavily.

My phone rang and I crawled to where it lay not faraway. “Francesco, you had better not try me. Where is my mother?”

“Relax, damsel. I sent you a live location. Meet me there. More surprises awaits you,” he sang which made me quake concerning the surprise he talked about.

He had just passed the boundary and I would make him pay. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed two knives, tucked them carefully in my pocket and headed out.

~~~~~

I found myself standing before a massive mansion, towering like the haunted memories of the high-profile targets I had once eliminated without a second thought.

The gates creaked open, and there they were—three men in black suits. My fists clenched at my sides, desperate for a reason, any reason, to strangle them where they stood.

They moved swiftly towards me like an agile predator. My launched myself at them and attacked them brutally, their blood spilling on the side of my face.

I ushered myself into the mansion, everything around me was unnervingly still. The air was thick with tension, every step I took echoed in the silent space.

Then, out of the quiet, Francesco’s voice sliced through the room, sending an icy jolt down my spine.

“Non ci vediamo da un po—Long time no see. Can you see who you are? Killing man lives right in your blood.”

I froze before I turned to his direction, his words playing in my head.

Blood drained from my face, leaving nothing but a cold, burning emptiness that settled deep within my soul. My legs gave way, my chest constricting, every breath a struggle against the rising panic that threatened to consume me.

I staggered backward, clenching my fists against the sharp ache in my lungs, unable to scream while my body betraying me as I sank to my knees.

And there, just feet away from me—was my mother. Her body laid lifeless.

Francesco stood beside her, his hands casually tucked in his pockets, exuding arrogance that bordered on insanity. He stood there like a god, looking down on my suffering with the same detachment he had shown countless others before me.

I let out a gut-wrenching wail, the sound raw, full of anguish. “Mom!” The word tore through me as I cradled her body, my fingers trembling as I removed the cotton from her ears and nose then hurled it away.

Francesco’s smile was wicked, cruel, as he took a slow, deliberate step closer. His eyes glinted with a sadistic delight. “Isn’t that the best surprise ever?” His voice dripped with mockery. “Perhaps the greatest of your life. And don’t get too comfortable… There’s more coming. Every hour, maybe.”

I glared up at him, shaking with fury. “How dare you, Francesco?” My voice cracked, barely able to contain the storm within me. “You’ve taken my love from me. Now... you take her?”

His smile only deepened, a cruel twist of amusement playing on his lips. “They had to go. No hard work without sacrifice, right? I never thought I would see you cry like this. After all, you’ve taken the same toll on others. What do you think happened to the families of those you killed, Brinda?” He let the words sink in, cold as ice. “This... is karma.”

A wave of disgust rolled through me, but I said nothing. I could barely look at him, my chest tightening with grief and helpless rage.

“Anyway…” He waved a hand dismissively. “No time to waste. We have work to do. You and I.” He paused for a moment, clearly savoring my pain. “I know what you can do, but I have the solutions to all your problems.” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider.

I stood up shakily, still clutching my mother’s body, refusing to let them take her from me. “Damsel, I’m the leader of the Dante family—Mafia. We control the hardest drugs in the market. But it’s not just that. There are bigger things in play, and guess who I think can solve them?” He leaned back, puffing a cigarette with an almost smug satisfaction.

I locked eyes with him, my heart pounding in my ears. “No, Francesco. You’re wrong. I’m not your solution.”

But before I could say more, he barked out an order. “Time’s up. Guards, remove the body.”

His men closed in on me, and I fought them with everything I had. But my body was weak, my spirit drained by the grief, and I could barely hold myself upright. I wanted to fight and tear them apart, but I was powerless.

Helplessly, I watched my mother’s body being dragged away, out of my reach, disappearing into the darkness beyond the door.

A roar of fury erupted from deep within me. I darted for the table, grabbing the knife that lay in front of Francesco.

With everything I had left, I lunged at him. But he was faster. His hand shot out, grabbing mine, and before I knew it, a sickening crack echoed in my skull.

I crumpled to the floor, unable to keep my eyes open. A primal scream tore through me as I succumbed to the blackness closing in.

Some time later… minutes? Hours?—I awoke to the sound of slow, mocking applause. My hand instinctively went to my head, where the pain throbbed like a pulse, steady and unforgiving.

The room was dimly lit, and I could see Francesco standing there, a wicked smirk twisting his features.

“Welcome back!” His voice was taunting, like a predator savoring its catch. “Hope the journey wasn’t too stressful.” He laughed, but there was no humor in it—just a cold cruelty.

I shot to my feet, rage and desperation fueling me. “Do you think this is a joke?” My voice cracked, my throat raw with emotion, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Do you?” He cocked his head, his smile never faltering. “I’m not here for games, Brinda. I’m here for business.”

He walked toward me, a glass of water in one hand, a tablet in the other. “Take this,” he demanded, his voice cold, authoritative.

I recoiled, pushing the glass away, my body shaking with anger. “Stop! Stop whatever you’re doing!” I struggled to stand, to escape him, but the weakness from earlier had returned. I couldn’t move fast enough and I fell to the floor.

He shook his head, exhaling a long, patient breath. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached for a small black bottle from the table. “I thought you’d prefer the gentle way. Guess I was wrong.”

His words cut through me like a knife. He crouched down in front of me, cupping my chin with his cold, cruel hands. His fingers dug into my skin, forcing my mouth open, and I gasped in horror as he tilted the bottle.

The liquid slid down my throat, burning, choking. My body convulsed in protest, but I couldn’t stop him. The poison—Deadly Nightshade. I had used it before to end my targets. To send them to a world of pain before death. And now I was forced to take it.

All I have left is a year to live.

His smirk deepened as he let go of me, watching with sadistic pleasure as I gagged. My hands flew to my mouth.

Tears stung my eyes. The bitter, metallic taste of death filled my mouth, and I could do nothing but cry. My vision blurred as the poison coursed through me, but I couldn’t let go of my rage.

Francesco’s voice was low, almost gentle, as he spoke the words that felt like a death sentence. “Sometimes, the person you once loved may end up killing you,” he said, the twisted satisfaction in his voice unmistakable.

“The epic love story that never really was,” I whispered, my voice thick with tears and grief.

He laughed, cruel and triumphant. “I have no comfort to offer you. Your little prank is over. The real game begins now.”

“I still won’t work for you,” I managed to say, my voice barely audible. “I would rather die.”

Francesco’s eyes gleamed with something darker. “Success is the key when you have a willful mindset. I know you have hope in you, Brinda. You want to live. Don’t lie to yourself.”

“No,” I whispered weakly, but even as the words left my lips, doubt gnawed at me. I didn’t want to die.

“Welcome to the gate of hell,” he murmured, his grin widening. He poured whiskey into a glass, savoring the slow, deliberate motion. He raised the glass to his lips and took a sip, eyes never leaving mine.

“And I’ll be the one to usher you in by the devil’s grace.” My words hung heavy in the air, thick with finality.

The clock ticked loudly in the silence, each second pressing closer to the doom awaiting us both.

But deep inside, a spark flickered—small, fragile, but undeniably there.

The game wasn’t over because Francesco would regret every moment of it. I would make him bleed for every second he thought I was broken.

And I would make him remember exactly why they used to whisper my name like a curse—The Black Rose has just begun to bloom

$Chapter