The morning light filtered through velvet curtains, but Isabella never needed sunlight to rise. Discipline was her clock, and nightmares paged her. She sat upright in her bed, silk sheets cascading off her shoulders like a fallen crown. Ink black hair spilled down her back, a stark contrast to the pale porcelain of her skin. And then there were her eyes, icy and cold, Green eyes like a snake.
The world had given her a name. They called her La Rosa Negra, meaning The Black Rose. A woman of untouched beauty, clothed in power and sharpened by loss. To outsiders, she was a myth: to enemies, a nightmare. But to Isabella and those close to her, she was still that orphaned girl who had lost everything.
A gentle knock sounded on her door before it opened
"Don't you ever sleep?". a familiar voice teased
Her cousin, Camilla, stepped into the room. She was the one person Isabella allowed so close, the girl who had been raised like her sister after that bloody night years ago. Camilla was softer in appearance, with chestnut hair, mischievous hazel eyes, but she had her kind of steel. She was Isabella's tether to humanity, the only one who dared to poke her walls.
Putting on her clothes, Isabella said to Camilla, "Let's go, I have traitors to deal with."
"Ugh," Camilla groaned, " You didn't even let me sit down." She sighed, following Isabella downstairs, where people waited for her.
Walking down Isabella, she set her eyes on the people kneeling, behind her, Camilla followed.
Isabella Moretti sat upon a high-backed chair of dark velvet in the grand hall, her posture regal, her ink black hair spilling over her shoulders like a midnight veil. Her sharp, green eyes swept over the men gathered before her. Even in her sleepwear, she still looked deadly. They shifted nervously beneath her gaze. Few dared meet her eyes for long. Those who did either served her without question or died regretting their actions.
Camilla, beside her, was creating the contrast of fire and ice, but both knew how to cut.
"Your men failed at the docks,' Isabella said coldly, her voice carrying the weight of judgment. " One shipment lost, another intercepted," she laughed coldly, "and there was a rat".
The man before her swallowed hard, sweat beading at his temple. "Signora i wasn't aware that..."
"It already happened". Isabella leaned forward, her fingers trailing over the carved armrest of the chair. The halls so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"And weakness is a disease, betrayal even worse. In this family, disease is cut before it spreads".
A single gesture of her hand, one of her guards dragged the man from the hall. His pleas dissolved into silence beyond the doors. Isabella didn't flinch. The men who remained straightened their spines, suddenly more attentive.
"Let this be your reminder," Isabella said, slowly rising, "Betrayals will not be tolerated here. Do I make myself clear?". She said
"Yes, ma'am," they all shouted.
"You and your little speeches," Camilla said teasingly.
Isabella scoffed, rolling her eyes and walking away
"Hey, no need to be shy," Camilla laughed while walking with her back to her room.
As they got to Isabella's room, Camilla flopped onto Isabella's couch, crossing her legs and watching as steam came out from the bathroom curled out of the half-open door.
"You know", Camilla said, picking idly at a tassel, "for someone who claims she's not depressed, you sure do brood a lot. People with happy lives don't glare at walls for hours.
Isabella's voice floated out, muffled by running water. " I don't brood, I think. Thinking keeps us alive".
"Thinking, plotting, brooding, It's all the same when you stare holes into the ceiling".
Silence lingered for a moment. Then Isabella emerged, wrapped in a dark silk robe, her damp hair clinging to her face. Her sharp features seemed softer when stripped of her cold armor and make-up, but her eyes still held that unflinching steel.
She walked past Camilla and poured herself a glass of wine. Morning or not, Isabella never waited for the right time to drink.
Camilla sat up, her gaze narrowing. " Another rat in the docks?, that the third time this month. Someone's feeding them information"
Isabella sipped, her lips staining the rim crimson. "I know"
"And?" Camilla pressed
"And that someone is closer than they think". Isabella placed the glass down with deliberate precision, as if even glass could shatter from carelessness. "Traitors don't come from shadows they bloom inside the family"
Camilla's chest tightened. She knew what Isabella meant, a mole in their circle was dangerous. Deadly
"You think it's one of the capos?" Camilla asked quietly.
Isabella didn't answer right away. Her gaze drifted toward the window, where morning sunlight painted streaks across her darkened room. It cast her in half light, half shadow, a fitting picture of who she was.
Finally, she said, "I think it's someone who knows me well enough to gamble with my patience."
The air grew heavy. Camilla shifted uncomfortably, but she didn't dare push further. she had learned long ago that Isabella's silence often spoke louder than her words.
Moments passed before Isabella broke it. "Tonight , we'll visit the docks ourselves."
Camilla arched a brow. "You? At the docks? You hate going outside."
"That's the point". Isabella's lips curved into something that was not quite a smile. "Whoever betrayed me will think I'm hiding here in my estate. Instead, I will be waiting, hiding in their shadows, ready to strike.
Camilla groaned, falling back dramatically onto the couch. "And here I thought today would be quiet. Maybe shopping. Maybe lunch somewhere that doesn't reek of gunpowder and blood. What if Sebastian finds out, you know that man will go crazy?"
Isabella chuckled softly, surprising even herself. For a fleeting second, the cold mask cracked, revealing the girl who once laughed freely, before loss hardened her heart. "He won't find out, and you're free to stay behind."
"You wish." Camilla sat up again, her hazel eyes gleaming. "If you're walking into fire and I'm walking with you. You know that, but so that you know, if Sebastian finds out, I will not take the fall for you."
Isabella's smile faded, replaced by something more vulnerable. She looked at her cousin, not the lieutenant, not the tether, but the only piece of family she had left. And though she never said it out loud, Isabella feared losing her family most of all.
"I know," Isabella whispered.
The clock on the wall struck ten, the chime echoing through the mansion like a quiet omen. Outside the city stirred awake, its streets already thick with whispers of power and fear. Somewhere out there, an enemy moved unseen, smiling at their victory.
But Isabella Wilson does not forgive nor forget.
She drained the last of her wine, set the glass down with a sharp click, and straightened her shoulders.
"Get ready," she ordered, her voice once again hard as steel. "Tonight the black rose blooms in blood."
Camilla smirked," And I wouldn't miss it for the world".