CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 7
Blood on White Roses
White roses had always meant peace.
That was why Dante Rossi's mother planted hundreds of them across the estate.
She believed every family deserved one place untouched by violence.
For twenty-five years, the gardens had remained exactly that.
A sanctuary.
No blood had ever stained those petals.
Until the morning someone decided to send Dante Rossi a message.
The sun had barely risen when Rosa stepped into the garden with her usual basket.
She stopped so suddenly that fresh-cut lavender slipped from her hands.
A scream shattered the morning silence.
Within seconds, guards rushed toward the eastern greenhouse.
Luca arrived first.
Then Dante.
The white roses looked as though someone had splashed crimson paint across them.
Except it wasn't paint.
It was blood.
Fresh.
Still dripping from the petals.
At the center of the garden lay a single dead raven.
Its wings had been carefully spread open.
Around its neck hung a silver chain.
A chain Dante recognized immediately.
Emily's pendant.
The one engraved with the letter A.
No one spoke.
The message required no explanation.
Someone had entered Rossi Manor.
Someone had crossed every layer of security.
Someone wanted Dante to know that nowhere was safe.
Luca crouched beside the bird.
"No footprints."
"Professional."
Dante's expression remained unreadable.
"Or someone familiar with the estate."
Marco looked around the garden.
"You think we have a traitor?"
"I think we have someone patient."
Before anyone could remove the bird, Aria stepped outside.
She had heard Rosa scream.
The moment she saw the blood...
Everything disappeared.
Not the garden.
Not the roses.
Time itself.
Eight Years Earlier
Snow covered the courtyard at Sterling Manor.
A gardener accidentally cut his hand while trimming rose bushes.
Drops of blood fell onto white flowers.
Victor Sterling walked outside.
His face twisted with disgust.
"You've ruined them."
The gardener apologized over and over.
Victor ordered every rose bush removed before sunset.
When Aria quietly asked why...
He smiled.
"Beauty has no room for stains."
That night, she learned the lesson he truly meant.
People who bled were hidden.
People who suffered were erased.
Perfection mattered more than truth.
The memory vanished.
Aria's knees weakened.
Dante caught the change in her breathing before anyone else.
He didn't reach for her.
Instead, he stepped beside her.
Blocking her view of the garden.
"You don't need to see this."
She shook her head slowly.
"It was meant for me."
"No."
His voice remained calm.
"It was meant for us."
Security teams sealed the estate.
Every employee was questioned.
Every camera reviewed.
Every entrance examined.
Nothing.
The intruder had left no trace.
Sophia frowned as she studied the security logs.
"It's impossible."
Luca folded his arms.
"Nothing is impossible."
"They disabled one camera."
"Only one."
"For exactly ninety-three seconds."
She looked up.
"They knew our blind spot."
By noon, Dante had called an emergency meeting.
His closest advisors gathered inside the war room beneath the mansion.
Maps covered the walls.
Digital screens displayed surveillance footage from every angle.
Marco broke the silence first.
"We retaliate."
"No."
Dante's answer came immediately.
"They attacked our home."
"I know."
"They're provoking you."
Marco slammed a fist against the table.
"So we just wait?"
"We investigate."
Marco scoffed.
"They spilled blood in Mother's garden."
Dante's eyes hardened.
"Which is exactly why we don't give them what they want."
Sophia entered carrying another file.
"I identified the raven."
Several people looked confused.
"You identified... the bird?"
She nodded.
"It wasn't wild."
"It came from a private aviary."
"Owner?"
She placed a photograph on the table.
A luxurious estate outside Boston.
Registered to...
The Sterling Foundation.
Silence settled across the room.
Marco let out a bitter laugh.
"That's almost insulting."
Dante wasn't smiling.
"It wasn't Victor."
Everyone looked at him.
"He wants us to believe it was."
Across the city, Victor Sterling sat in his office watching the morning news.
Nothing.
No mention of Rossi Manor.
Interesting.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
His chief of security entered.
"The gift was delivered."
Victor nodded.
"And Rossi?"
"No retaliation."
The senator frowned.
"No?"
"None."
For the first time that morning...
Victor looked disappointed.
Back at Rossi Manor, Aria sat alone in the greenhouse.
The blood had already been cleaned.
Fresh roses replaced the damaged ones.
Yet she couldn't erase the image from her mind.
Footsteps approached.
She didn't turn.
"I ruined everything."
Dante stood several feet away.
"You didn't."
"He keeps hurting people because of me."
"He keeps hurting people because he chooses to."
She closed her eyes.
"I don't know how to stop blaming myself."
"You don't have to stop today."
She looked at him.
"You only have to stop believing the lie a little less each day."
The words settled quietly between them.
Not a promise.
Not a miracle.
Just a possibility.
For Aria...
That was enough.
Later that afternoon, Rosa knocked softly on Aria's studio door.
"I brought something."
She carried a small wooden box.
Inside lay dozens of old paintbrushes.
"They belonged to Mrs. Rossi."
Aria carefully lifted one.
Its handle had worn smooth from years of use.
"She always painted after difficult days."
Rosa smiled gently.
"She said pain became lighter once it had somewhere to go."
Aria looked toward the blank canvas waiting in the corner.
"I don't think I remember how."
"You don't have to paint beautifully."
"You only have to paint honestly."
Hours later, Dante quietly opened the studio door.
He stopped without making a sound.
Aria hadn't noticed him.
She stood before the canvas, completely absorbed.
Dark blues.
Deep black.
Fragments of silver.
At the center...
A little girl stood inside an enormous golden birdcage.
The door was open.
Yet she remained inside.
Dante stared at the painting.
It was heartbreaking.
Because the cage wasn't locked.
She simply no longer believed she could leave.
"You can come in."
Her voice startled him.
"I didn't want to interrupt."
"You weren't."
He stepped closer.
The painting filled nearly the entire canvas.
"It's beautiful."
"It isn't."
"It tells the truth."
She lowered the brush.
"Truth isn't always beautiful."
"No."
He looked at the little girl trapped inside the cage.
"But sometimes it's necessary."
That evening, Sophia burst into Dante's office without knocking.
"I found our leak."
Dante stood immediately.
"Who?"
"Not a servant."
She placed a tablet on the desk.
"The florist."
He frowned.
"The florist?"
"The company delivering fresh flowers every Monday."
She enlarged security footage.
A delivery van entered the estate every week.
No inspections.
No questions.
One driver.
Always the same.
Sophia pointed toward the screen.
"Yesterday he stayed six minutes longer than usual."
"What was he doing?"
"He walked directly past the eastern garden."
Luca looked at the footage.
"Can we identify him?"
Sophia nodded.
"We already did."
She turned the tablet toward Dante.
The driver's license photograph appeared.
The man's name was false.
His employment history was fabricated.
But facial recognition found a match.
Former military intelligence.
Dishonorably discharged.
Now working for a private security contractor...
Owned by a shell corporation.
Tracing the ownership chain led to one name.
Nathan Hale.
Marco frowned.
"Who the hell is Nathan Hale?"
Sophia answered quietly.
"He isn't working for Victor Sterling."
The room grew still.
"Then who?"
She took a slow breath.
"He worked for the man who investigated Aria's abuse case fifteen years ago."
Dante's eyes narrowed.
"The investigator who disappeared."
Sophia nodded.
"He didn't disappear."
"He changed identities."
"And now..."
She looked at the photograph again.
"...someone has brought him back."
Late that night, Aria couldn't sleep.
She wandered into the garden despite the cold.
Fresh snow covered the rose bushes where the raven had been found.
Moonlight turned everything silver.
She wrapped her coat tighter around herself.
"You always liked white roses."
The voice came from the darkness.
She froze.
Slowly...
She turned.
An elderly man stepped from behind the hedges.
Neatly dressed.
Gray hair.
Gentle eyes.
The same man who had spoken to her after the Sterling gala.
"You..."
He smiled sadly.
"You still don't remember me."
Aria searched his face.
"I should?"
"My name is Samuel Whitmore."
The name stirred something.
A distant echo.
A piano.
Laughter.
A warm voice saying...
"Again, little sparrow. This time with feeling."
Her breath caught.
"My piano teacher..."
Samuel nodded.
"Yes."
Tears filled her eyes.
"They told me you moved away."
"I was told never to come back."
Before she could ask another question, Dante appeared from the path behind her.
His hand rested near the holster beneath his coat.
Not drawn.
Ready.
Samuel raised both hands peacefully.
"I'm not your enemy, Mr. Rossi."
"Then tell me why you're here."
The old man looked first at Dante...
Then at Aria.
His voice trembled.
"Because the truth has waited long enough."
He reached inside his coat.
Dante's body tensed.
Instead of a weapon...
Samuel withdrew a worn leather music notebook.
Its cover was faded.
Inside the front page, written in a child's careful handwriting, were three words.
Property of Aria.
Samuel looked directly into her tear-filled eyes.
"You didn't stop playing the piano because you wanted to."
His expression broke with grief.
"You stopped..."
"...because your father made sure your hands would never feel safe on the keys again."
The snow seemed to stop falling.
The night itself held its breath.
And for the first time...
Someone from Aria's past had come not to silence the truth—
May you like
But to finally speak it.
End of Chapter 7
