War of A Rose

War of A Rose • Chapter 11

Rosaelia

I could feel the warmth of the sun seeping in through the windows. I peeked open one eye to see the pink sky. It is only dawn. The weight of the duvet covered my entire body. Tempting me to fall back asleep. Unfortunately, I have to get up. Alessio's mother will be arriving to collect the sheets any minute now. Wait. The sheets.

I sat upright, pulled the blanket down and mumbled, "Shit." The memories of last night came back all at once. My eyes fell onto the perfect white colored sheets. Not a drop of blood anywhere to be seen. I did not bleed.

"It's about time you woke up." Alessio's voice sent a tremor down my spine. Almost sending me flying out of the bed. I clutched the duvet and pulled it up to my shoulders. Following his voice, I turned to where he was standing on the other side of the bed.

Once again, I peeled back the duvet and slid off my side of the bed, "Fuck. Can't you knock?" I smoothed out the fabric of my nightgown. Making sure that it did not rise as I got out of bed. Alessio's eyes took their time in taking me in. Slowly. From my bare legs to the straps of my nightgown and finally, to my eyes.

"Wouldn't that be silly, considering this is my room?"

Right. His room. This was his room. I rolled my eyes, "Whatever."

I looked back down to the pristine white cotton, "I didn't bleed on them."

I watched as Alessio moved from his side of the bed to the dresser that sat against the wall, "No, you didn't."

The wooden drawer creaked as he pulled it out. "What will your parents say?" A virgin bride not bleeding on the sheets on her wedding night was a scandal no one in our world would want to face. Most of the time, the bride was a virgin, but in rare cases, they were not. Those who had to present clean sheets were viewed as a disgrace and a whore for straying from their husband. They were also often shunned by their families for the shame they brought upon them. In some cruel instances, they were killed by the groom or his family. Three weeks ago, I would have easily said that even if I had not bled on the sheets, my father would not let me be murdered for it. Now, I did not doubt in my mind that he would pull the trigger himself.

He knew that I would not bleed last night. I wondered if he hoped that Alessio killed me for my betrayal so that it could give him a reason to start a war between the two families.

"Nothing." Alessio faced me, now holding a very sharp letter opener. Suddenly, I felt very ill.

He watched me stare at the pointed tip, "What is that for?" Curiosity flooded me as I couldn't help but wonder what he will do with it. My discomfort grew as he crossed from his side to my side of the bed. Painfully so I should add. Also making sure he held my gaze the entire time. He enjoyed the suspense. The unease he brought upon me. He finally stopped, inches from me with the sharp end angled towards me.

"If my mother wants blood for this stupid tradition she insists on; then I will give it to her."' Alessio raced his finger along the blade.

I surveyed the tip, wondering how much damage it could do. He twirled it a few times under the light. I waited for him to pierce my skin with it. He did not. He brought the jagged tip to his open palm and sliced. Within seconds blood had begun pouring from his open wound. Contaminating the white sheets.

I couldn't help but watch in awe as he clenched his fist, causing the cut to bleed more. Alessio Altieri was labeled as one of the most ruthless men in this world, yet he stood here in front of me, bleeding onto the sheets of his bed because I could not. He was bleeding so that our families would not shame me.