Chapter six

Rosa was moved to the guest room, and a doctor was assigned to her. She looks nothing like her old self, the whiteness that steals across their skin is like the shadows descending on her.

Antonino sighed!

Antonino's sigh seemed to echo through the room, carrying with it the weight of a broken promise, a faint remnant of the humanity that once pulsed within him.

The doctor's diagnosis was a cruel twist of fate, a merciless blow to Rosa's already fragile state. "Hypertrophic cardiomyopathy," he intoned, his voice detached, clinical. "A hereditary condition. Caused by stress, no doubt."

The revelation hung in the air like a guillotine, poised to sever Rosa's final thread of hope. "Thank God she was brought in soon," the doctor continued.

"She's unconscious," the doctor announced, his voice grave. "The stress and the hypertrophic cardiomyopathy have taken their toll."

Rosa's body lay motionless, the rise and fall of her chest the only sign of life. Antonino's heart, despite his best efforts to still it, beat a discordant rhythm of guilt and fear. The realization of his role in her suffering, in the shadows of her illness, was a bitter pill to swallow.

Antonino sat beside her, his emotions were tangled with pity, confusion, care, and hatred all mashed up inside him, he stayed by her bedside for a while before leaving to go to his father’s estate, he had instructed his secretary to keep him informed on her progress and in case of any need.

Julian was in charge of Rosa still Antonino got back.

Rosa blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the dim light that filtered through the closed curtains. Her mind was still fuzzy, the haze of slumber reluctant to release its hold on her. For a moment, she wondered if she had escaped Antonino's clutches and was now in the hands of a savior.Julian, accustomed to her silence, suddenly found himself drawn to Rosa's barely audible words, his attention laser-focused on her barely moving lips.

"Thank you for saving me," she mouthed.

The gratitude in her expression spoke volumes, piercing the veil of her previous reticence. In that moment, Julian felt a wave of protectiveness rise within him, a desire to shield Rosa from the dangers that lurked in the shadows of the manor.

"You're safe now," he assured her, his voice low and steady, a balm to her troubled soul.

The tension in Julian's posture betrayed his inner turmoil. His heart ached with guilt, his thoughts in turmoil as he contemplated Rosa's fate. Yet, he knew he had to tread carefully, to keep his emotions in check.

"I'll bring you some food and medicine," he said, his eyes shifting away from her gaze. He was just happy she was getting better and maybe Antonino could let her go.

After being bedridden for a long while, and finally recovering, the doctor suggested a walk, a chance for Rosa to rebuild the strength and dignity that had been so brutally stripped away.

Julian, who had tended to her recovery, offered to accompany her. A bond had grown between them, forged from days of hushed companionship and unspoken understanding.

He offered to take her to the garden.

With cautious steps, she followed Julian into the sunlight, her steps tentative, her body a fragile vessel in need of steady support. The cool breeze caressed her skin, a gentle reminder that life could, indeed, be beautiful again.

Mr. Antonino's gait was purposeful as he strode towards the guest room, his focus razor-sharp as he digested the information from his secretary about Rosa's health. However, as he swung the door open, the sight of the vacant room was a sobering reminder that Rosa's recovery, while positive news, was still a fragile thing, susceptible to missteps and unforeseen circumstances.

He stood in the doorway, his eyes roaming the silent room, the realization dawning that his expectations of Rosa's presence were not to be met.Antonino's face, a mask of barely controlled rage, was a sight that sent his guards scrambling for answers. "Where is she?" he demanded, his words laced with venom.

Their heads shook in unison, their silence a testament to their ignorance of Rosa's whereabouts. Antonino's mind raced, a maelstrom of suspicion and fury swirling within him. With shaking hands, he retrieved his phone, dialing Julian with the speed and precision of a viper striking its prey.

The phone rang once, twice, thrice—and then the line crackled to life. "Julian here."

Antonino's words, sharp and brutal as daggers, cut through the air, each syllable a declaration of his dominance. "Where are you?" he demanded.

Julian's response, steady and unperturbed, was a bold defiance of Antonino's fury. "The garden," he answered, his tone a cool, measured riposte.

The silence on the other end of the line was a crackling anticipation, the hiss of the snake about to strike.

"Where is the girl?" Antonino snarled, his voice a rasp of barely contained rage.

How dare you take my prisoner out without informing me first!! Antonino snapped over the phone.

The crackle of Antonino's outrage traveled through the phone line, a verbal cudgel wielded with brute force. "How dare you take her out without my permission?" he roared, his fury thundering in the small space of the telephone receiver.

Julian, unwavering despite the onslaught of Antonino's temper, carefully weighed his words. "The doctor requested I take Rosa on a walk for her recovery,and you weren't around," he explained, his voice an oasis of calm amid Antonino's tempestuous rage.

‘Mtcheew’ Antonino hissed.

Antonino's voice, sharp as a saber's edge, cut through the air. "I'm on my way to the garden, and if she's not there..." The threat hung in the air, the weight of his fury palpable even through the phone.

Julian, unflinching in the face of Antonino's tirade, opened his mouth to retort, but the line went dead, Antonino's audacity evident in the sudden silence.

"How dare he?" Antonino snarled, his teeth clenched, his words a low, dangerous growl, he shouted at no one in particular as he found his way to the garden.

At the entrance of the garden, Antonino's brow furrowed, the shadow of his presence looming over the garden as he watched Rosa, her laughter a spark of sunlight in the darkness of his thoughts. The smile that flickered across his face was brief, a momentary thaw in the frigid tundra of his emotions.

Julian, sensing Antonino's arrival, approached, his demeanor a careful dance of caution and respect.

Antonino turned, the mask of fury sliding into place like a second skin. "What were you thinking, taking her out without my permission?" he demanded, his tone biting.

The sweetness of the flowers, their delicate petals a rainbow of color, captured Rosa's attention, her world a quiet sanctuary of beauty and peace. Lost in the moment, she was oblivious to Antonino's approach, to the way Julian had melted back into the shadows.

And then, like a cold wind blowing over a sun-drenched field, his voice cut through the serenity, a shadow that cast its pall over the garden, a harbinger of darkness descending. That familiar devil's voice.

Antonino’s face was a twisted knot of rage, his eyes blazing with fury. “Why did you bring her here? My mother loved this garden,” he hissed, his words laced with venom.

“The doctor suggested a walk to aid in her recovery, and she’s not the culprit,” Julian replied, his voice steady despite the tense atmosphere. “And besides, I think the anesthesia isn’t worn off yet. She might believe she’s escaped.”"Please, sir, lower your voice," Julian urged, his gaze shifting towards Rosa, who was still lost in her own world. "She's clearly disoriented. The anesthesia has addled her mind. We should be cautious."

Antonino, still bristling with rage, hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between Rosa and Julian. "Fine," he grunted, his tone a reluctant concession. "But don't think for a moment that I trust her."

But it was too late for Antonino to lower his voice.

As Antonino’s voice reached Rosa’s ears, the fear struck like a thunderbolt, reverberating through every fiber of her being. Her breath quickened, her heart pounding in her chest at the realization. A shroud of dread cloaked her, enveloping her in a fog of anxiety and uncertainty.

This can’t be she murmured with a quiet voice

Her hand trembled, the blood draining from her face as she stared, wide-eyed and paralyzed, now facing Antonino’s menacing figure.Rosa had picked up a branch with her trembling hand as she made a run toward Antonino as she yelled .

"Ahh! Die, you devil!" she shouted, her voice a raw, guttural expression of her unbridled rage.

Antonino was shocked into immobility for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening in surprise.Antonino, caught off guard by Rosa's sudden aggression, reeled back, a mixture of shock and disgust clouding his features. He watched as she stumbled towards him, brandishing the branch like a makeshift weapon, her eyes wild with the adrenaline of her imagined escape.

"Sei una pazza," he muttered under his breath, the Italian words a disgusted rebuke of her insanity. He scoffed, a sound of derision aimed squarely at the woman before him.

Antonino’s smirk was the epitome of self-satisfaction as he watched Julian restrain Rosa, her outburst proving his suspicions correct. His expression oozed with a mixture of disgust and triumph, confirming his views on the woman before him.

"You slimy bitch, is that all you could do?" Antonino sneered, the words landing with a venomous bite. He shot Julian a look that said, “I told you so,” his gaze exuding smugness.

"You're a madwoman," he repeated, the disdain in his tone as clear as day.

As Antonino's men flooded the garden, forming a protective wall around their master, their movements akin to a swarm of bees defending their queen, Antonino smirked, his contempt for Rosa's perceived dramatics evident in the crinkling corners of his eyes.

As Rosa’s legs gave out beneath her, her body crumpling like a marionette with its strings cut, Antonino smirked, his contempt for her apparent display of weakness on full display.

"Oh, I'm sure she's just acting out to avoid the consequences of her actions," he scoffed, a cruel laugh punctuating his words. "She's not fooling anyone."

In that moment, Julian's frustration boiled over, his gaze sharpening into a silent glare that screamed, “What the hell?” Without a word, he scooped Rosa into his arms, lifting her from the ground with the strength and care of a guardian angel.

Antonino stalked towards his study, his movements a brooding symphony of frustration and annoyance. The hallway walls seemed to shrink in his presence, as if they, too, were cowering from his wrath. With each step, his scowl deepened, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack walnuts.

As Antonino made his way to the study, his secretary intercepted him, the urgency of her news reflected in her furrowed brow. “Sir, one of your clients will be in touch with you soon. They’ve expressed an urgent need to speak with you.”

Antonino grunted, dismissing her with a wave of his hand as he continued his march towards his study. The news, while important, was a mere pebble in the ocean of his current concerns.

He entered his sanctuary, the study, with a huff, pausing only to pluck a cigar from his humidor. The fragrant tobacco curled into the air, a haze of smoke that seemed to match the tempestuous haze of his mind.

The cigar, a smoldering beacon in the haze of Antonino's thoughts, cast a dim light on the mental labyrinth he was navigating. The mystery of Rosa, the unsettling twists and turns of the recent events, all coalesced into a web of intrigue that he struggled to unravel.

His phone, or so he thought, rang out, cutting through his musings like a siren's call. He reached for it, only to find the source of the ringing elsewhere.

His investigation led him to the drawer, where he found Rosa's phone, its screen illuminated with an incoming call. Her mother.

Antonino groaned, his intention to discard the phone in the drawer thwarted by his accidental acceptance of the call.

"Hello," Rosa's mother’s brittle voice rang out, her words a tremulous plea for communication. "Baby, I know you're there. Don't do anything foolish. I shouldn't have let you go to Venice alone."

Antonino sat still, his cigar a solitary beacon in the smoky darkness of his study. He listened, silent, his mind a cauldron of simmering thoughts.The silence stretched like a taut wire, the tension palpable even across the either.

"Baby, please answer me. I’m so worried," Rosa's mother begged, the emotion in her voice nearly palpable.

Antonino puffed on his cigar, its acrid smoke curling up into the shadows.

Finally, he spoke. "Hello," he rumbled, his voice heavy with the weight of his words.

Rosa's mother paused, her voice suddenly quieter, as if unsure she had heard him correctly.