The Blossom of Rose

29 • Loveable

♕ Rose ♕

6 hours. That's the most I managed to sleep.

Even after Luca double-checked the locks on the window and balcony door, it took me another whole hour to fall asleep after that.

I'll take that though because it was a peaceful sleep. One of those where it feels as if I was floating in a fairy tale land.

I jump out of bed and the first thing I do, obviously, is run to the bathroom and throw up in the toilet. I hate morning sickness. I've had it nearly every single day of my pregnancy and I don't think it's going to stop any time soon. Lucky me.

I brush my teeth, do my morning routine and get ready for the day. I put on a simple outfit, black culottes with a white ribbed crop top. When I look in the mirror, I see my hair. The braid has gone a little messy from my sleep but does not look horrible.

Luca Armani braided my hair last night.

He's ruthlessly burnt, drowned, and killed people in the coldest blood, but placidly stroked, tied and braided my hair with the same hands.

I don't think he's ever been this tender in my life. Not even when we slept together.

I leave the braid in.

And when I open the door, I nearly trip over the large animal laying right outside the threshold. Ricky immediately gets up and sits on his hind legs, his big, black eyes staring at me, adorably.

"Good morning," I smile and bend down to pet him behind his ears. He leans into my touch and rubs his soft fur against my hand. "You've been playing bodyguard all night?" In response, he licks my hand and I laugh at the funny feeling of it.

"Let's go get some breakfast," I stand, and the padding of his paws are heard behind me as I walk down to the kitchen.

"Morning Sabrina," I sit on the barstool and Ricky plops down beside me on the floor. On the island, there is already a coffee pot, a carton of orange juice with some glasses, a bowl of fruit and pots of whatever breakfast is cooked for today.

"Good morning, Ma'am," she greets and clatters something onto a tray. Brando sits on one of the other stools, a plate of food in front of him, as he inspects the laptop with furrowed eyebrows.

"Morning Brando," I say, and he mumbles something back.

"Mr Armani told me to give this to you." Sabrina places the tray in front of me and I thank her. There's a box sitting next to the pill dispenser, and I fill a glass of orange juice – which helps with my nausea throughout the day. It does work because my morning sickness has only been happening in the mornings and not at random moments.

"Shall I make your usual?" She stands in front of me, head lowered, and hands clasped together. Her brown hair is in a tight bun and she's a tall girl with curves in the places I only got because of my pregnancy.

I smile at her politely and she looks up, returning it. I think she's glad I haven't mentioned anything about last night to her.

"What's wrong?" I ask Brando when I see the confusion written on his face.

"I'm looking at the cash flow of the hotel for this month, but something isn't right," he rubs his jaw and takes a sip of his protein shake.

"Let me have a look," I take a sip of the juice and he pushes the laptop over to me.

"The closing balance is wrong. It doesn't match up to what we have," he comments, and I analyse the spreadsheet to see if anything is in the wrong place.

"Your net profit is too high," I tell him and try to hide my laugh, "you accidentally added an extra 0."

"Shit, yeah," his eyes widen, and he takes it back, "thanks."