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

Brinda

Feeling a series of hard rhythmic taps on my cheeks and Francesco's deep male voice that instructed, “Wake up,” I struggled before my eyes flipped open after some seconds. “I wonder how someone could be this useless. You've had enough sleep. Time to work, damsel.”

My body jerked forward, my arms flew in the air and my hair came falling covering my face in the process. I tapped my forehead for some time then I raised my head only to meet Francesco with a smirking expression.

All what he did yesterday came running in my head. I just wanted to stand and point a gun at his head but who am I?

A suppressed lady with no choice.

The only way I can free myself from him is to achieve his goals then also help him to bury the secrets he intends to. Hold on! What are his secrets?

That's exactly where I'm supposed to start thinking from. Francesco wants me to work for him but I don't know the type of errands I will be running for him.

“Are you deaf or are you trying to let me yell on purpose?” He thundered angrily and I was forced to bow my head. “Get up!” He shouted.

I stood from where I sat, realizing it was a mattress and I was dressed in a pink night dress which had my inner thighs nearly visible.

“Who changed my clothes?” I asked, concerned about my safety.

“Who do you think can do that except me?” He said without thinking.

He couldn't have done anything, right?

If he did, I would have known. Though there won't be blood stains since I gave my virginity to Peter. Perfect punishment for Francesco, I would just wait for the time he finds out.

Houses and people spread like grains of rice on the ground as I gazed down from the window of… A jet? Yes, it is. A private one.

“Where are we going?” I asked, returning my head to face Francesco.

“Be a patient dog and obey your master,” he replied coldly. “And be cautious of who you're talking to. I'm not the Francesco you once knew. That part of me is dead.”

I laughed as I held onto my stomach. “That's why you killed my mother and Peter, right?”

He tucked his hands into his pocket and sighed deeply before his face darkened. Fear gripped my soul and I stepped backward with my hands clutching to the hem of my dress.

“They deserve to die. Everyone around you deserves to die except me because I have to watch you suffer while I inflict pain on you.”

“For how long will you do that?” I asked, then he slowly made his way to my side.

My movement was stopped when my back hit the door behind me. I inhaled deeply.

“I have rules,” he said, holding my right hand tightly. “And you must obey them if you don't wanna lose your right as my property because that is what you're now.”

I shook my head, not understanding what he meant.

He smiled again, his voice cold and calculating. "Here are the rules you need to follow. First, you must answer every question I ask. Never say 'I don't know.' Second, when I call, you must respond immediately—no hesitation. Third, you will not look at me unless I allow it. And finally, you will do the tasks I assigned to you, without hesitation or refusal. Disobedience will come with consequences."

“Is he some kind of Messiah? Grumpy human!” I thought.

“Yes. Yes, I do.” I replied with my eyes fixed on him though I knew he stated those rules for himself and not me.

He brought his face closer to mine. I shifted my gaze trying to avoid his eye contact, given how close we were. “And the most important thing is, you will be doing a lot of dirty jobs for me. But for now… Watch me!”

He ordered me to have my bath and I obliged. A few minutes later, I came back, dressed in a long yellow gown he prepared for me.

As I looked through the mirror earlier, I was frustrated. I don't wear long clothes. Even if I wore one, at least not this long.

“You are looking beautiful. Come sit on my lap.” He commanded as he sipped his wine. I let his words fall behind my ears while I sat on the chair opposite him. “I won't appreciate your stubbornness.” He smirked.

“Whatever!” I snapped.

“I’m in a good mood today,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “So, I will let you off but next time you disobey me… I will make you pay in the best possible way.” He said coldly and silence followed.

When we finally arrived at our destination, we climbed down from the jet to the gentle evening breeze that blew my hair slightly. I took in the environment, seeing as it has a familiar sight.

“What are we doing here?” I whispered, curiosity bathing me.

He raised his eyebrow before he flashed a naughty smile. “Relax, damsel. We are here for work.” He told me but I did not buy it.

Then, a Range Rover accompanied by a variety of black cars arrived and we boarded it. A man, cladded in a black suit, sat in the backseat and Francesco joined him while I sat in the front seat.

Finally, the middle-aged driver pulled up in front of a mansion which reeked of money but with the look of things and my expertise in the dark world, I understood that the money was not a holy one.

There are some secrets behind the scenes.

Two men rushed to my side and opened the door. I winced at them before I refused their help and exited the vehicle myself as gently as I could making sure I didn't trip because of the compulsory heels I'm wearing all thanks to Francesco.

I waited for about ten minutes before Francesco alighted from the car. “Let's go,” he commanded his men as he moved into the building like an agile predator.

The cars, including the one I and Francesco boarded all zoomed away. I looked left and right. Realizing I was all alone in the middle of nowhere, my heart skipped a bit.

What am I waiting for?

I ran after them with my mind full of the consequences that may follow my wrong decision.

$Chapter

Brinda

Stepping into the expansive living room of the mansion, my breath hitched. The space oozed luxury — everything in sight screamed money, from the opulent furniture to the gleaming marble floors.

A part of me couldn’t help but envy the grandeur of this place. What would it have been like to live here? I wondered bitterly.

I cursed my parents under my breath, the frustration of my past life bubbling up once again. But before I could dive deeper into those thoughts, I heard noises coming from upstairs. Curiosity pricked at my senses, urging me to find the source.

I hurried up the staircase, following the sounds, and soon I found myself standing outside a door that creaked open, revealing a scene that made my stomach twist.

Inside, a man with a bulging belly knelt close to a plush chair, surrounded by three women — prostitutes by the look of them — also kneeling on the floor.

Francesco stood by the door, flanked by his men, his presence as commanding as ever. His gaze was sharp, full of silent judgment.

“Purab Chaturvedi,” Francesco's voice rang out, cutting through the thick silence of the room. He casually sat on the sofa opposite the man, his posture relaxed but his eyes hard.

“Yes?” Purab stammered, visibly unnerved. His Indian accent, not betraying him.

“You know I don’t like wasting my time,” Francesco continued, his voice chilling as it rose slightly in tone. “Tell me who your leader is.”

Purab’s demeanor shifted suddenly, as if an unseen switch had been flipped. He stood up, clapping his hands together in a mock display of bravado.

Francesco’s men moved forward instinctively, but Francesco raised a hand, signaling them to stop.

“Who are you to control me?” Purab sneered, his swollen belly shaking with the movement. “I’ve been in this business long before you were even born.”

Francesco’s lips curled into a smile — one of those smiles that never failed to send a shiver down my spine. It was the kind of smile that spoke of things far darker than mere mockery. “Don’t mistake my patience for kindness, Purab,” he said, his voice low, full of menace. “Tell me who your leader is, and I’ll spare your life.”

Purab, tall and huge, marched towards Francesco and slapped him hard. Really hard. I raised my hands to shield my eardrums from the deafening sound while the ladies cried.

I couldn't help but feel pity for Francesco. The slap was the loudest I've heard in my entire life.

“Who gave you the power to threaten me? Your father who did that the last time is already dead. He is fucking dead.” Purab’s laughter was infectious, filling the room with joy.

Francesco’s temper flared, ignited by Purab's taunts. He grabbed his neck and pushed him till he reached the bed stand and because of his weight, he dropped to the bed which after Francesco climbed on top and punched him severally till blood dripped out of his mouth.

When Francesco climbed down, it was then I saw he had an iron bracelet in his hand. He looked at me for the first time. “Did you see that?” He asked, breathing profusely. “I will do the same to you if you don't follow my rules. My world, my rules.”

“Are you talking to me or someone else?” I asked before I rushed to where Purab was, almost lifeless.

If Francesco came after Purab, it means that he is Francesco's enemy or he is an associate to Francesco's enemy.

What does Francesco want from him?

I concluded sharply that with the look of things, he wouldn't let the man die since he needs the man to reveal who his boss is.

But I thought wrong, really wrong.

One of Francesco's men who were close to where he stood, threw a pistol to him and within a twinkle of an eye, Francesco shot the ladies.

I was forced to yell, “Francesco. Why? They did nothing.” I rushed closer to the bed stand where their bodies were laid. “You are cruel.” I tried wiping the blood stains from my hand but they remained there.

“Wait till you see how cruel I am.” He said and in a swift move to the left, he shot Purab thrice — Head, left chest and stomach.

The blood spilled on my face which resulted in me closing my eyes.

The same life I never wanted is coming back and I have killed more than enough. I have caused the death of different heads of families. I have sown the seed of sorrow in many households. To this day, a lot of families are still grieving because of my actions.

But that's in the past, not anymore.

“Get rid of the body. There shouldn’t be a trace left.” Francesco’s voice was cold and commanding as he turned and exited the room without a second glance. “And someone, drag that weeping woman out too.”

Two of his men approached and roughly hauled me out of the room. The air felt heavy as they led me through the building, and by the time we stepped outside, three black cars were lined up, their headlights cutting through the night.

I was shoved into the back of the car that Francesco had entered.

I could feel the anger simmering beneath my skin, my frustration with him growing with every passing second. The blood stains on my clothes, a reminder of the violence I'd just witnessed, made my stomach churn.

I turned my gaze to the window, hoping to lose myself in the night view of Vietnam, trying to clear my mind.

As the car sped through the streets, my thoughts were a jumbled mess. We were heading somewhere, but where? The uncertainty gnawed at me.

As we neared the airport, Francesco reached for a bag and began pulling off his clothes. I quickly turned away, not wanting to be subjected to the sight of his pitiful physique.

“What are you waiting for?” His voice cut through the cold air like a blade. I couldn’t believe this was the same man I once fell in love with.

I glanced back at him, my eyes narrowing as he handed me some clothes. I held his gaze for a moment, but he avoided it, his focus shifting to the driver. I snatched the clothes from his hand, my fingers trembling with frustration, and hurriedly changed.

Just as I finished, the car jerked to a sudden stop, sending me lurching forward and crashing my head into the driver’s seat.

“Can’t you drive properly?” I shouted, my hands frantically tugging at my hair as I tried to straighten it.

The door swung open, and in stepped a woman dressed in tight black jeans, a black blouse, and a matching cap.

Her presence was enough to send a chill through the air, her aura as cold and intimidating as her outfit. Without a word, Francesco shoved me aside, making room for her as though I didn’t even matter.

“Brinda, meet Bullet,” he said nonchalantly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Bullet, this is the stubborn lady beside me, Brinda.” I chose to look away, my lips pressed tight, refusing to acknowledge her grin.

“B and B,” Francesco added with mock enthusiasm. “What a perfect combination.” Turning to Bullet, he asked, “Was the mission successful?”

$Chapter