The Story of Blood and Roses

"Yes, now answer me, bitch," she sneered as she crouched on all fours and glared at me from the bed.

"Back to your usual antics, I see, Cienna," I accused in a light voice as I looked around the room, scrutinizing it. It looked like a storm had turned the place over. "You\'ve been busy," my voice was unattached as I gave her a fleeting look and then looked back around the room. The room stank of sweat. I scrunched up my nose, trying to avoid breathing in the smell of an unwashed Cienna and wondered how I had not been able to smell it before.

"You\'ve gone missing, as has Anthony. Don\'t you dare think that I don\'t know what you are trying to do!" she screamed and launched herself at me. I moved out of her way, making her fall and land on her hands which came out to protect her from crashing to the ground on her face. She hissed and she turned around and tried to fight to her feet again. She looked like an animal that was ready to escape her prison, but she was the one that we could not let go. We had no clue as to how volatile she was, I had yet to check in with Ethan and find out how she had reacted after she was locked in. From the looks of it, it had not gone over well; she certainly did not like to be locked in a room without any of us. She was lashing out at me because she had just for a few moments in her vulnerability found solace in me.

"I am not in a mood for your theatrics. I just stopped by to check on you," I sneered at her in irritation. My feelings towards varied from one moment to the other, but after observing the ongoing trend, I realized that I only, remotely liked her if she was nowhere near me. All the other times, her presence had been just a nuisance. It was a situation that I need to correct by slitting her throat or something equally gory. I had a few ideas.

"You slept with him, you bitch!" she screamed. My nicked neck chose the moment to start throbbing with greater intensity. I cupped the back of my neck with my hands and tried to massage the sore spot. Cienna, on the other hand, took these gestures as a sign of guilt, or whatever.

For the life of me, I couldn\'t understand how she could think of that.

Feeling a bit sassy myself, I shrugged my shoulders and made a \'meh\' sound. I wasn\'t lying, of course, and I sincerely hoped that Anthony would get the hint and play along.

"How can you be so blasé about it?"

"I\'m not a gold digger or an informant rat. I don\'t care about the position of a person, I only care about if I want to sleep with them or not." Those words were ideal, but I knew for a fact that so far, I had never slept with a man who was not in a position of power or I got something in return.

"He\'s Anthony."

"So, I hear," I wave her off in a nonchalant manner.

"You\'re a power hungry whore, Mia. Even at such a young age..." she shook her head as if disgusted. "You really don\'t know what you are getting yourself into," she spat at me. I raised a brow at her, a bit amused that she of all people could call me a prostitute.

"I really don\'t like to ponder on people\'s past, but Cienna, you don\'t have a good track record yourself," I said with a grin. Her eyes narrowed at me for the slightest moment, but then they flitted over my shoulder. Her eyes widened comically, and I glanced over my shoulder to see what had gotten her spooked.

Apparently, the source of her fear was Anthony, who looked pinched. He seemed wide awake, but I could understand from the furrowing of his brows that his headache was not fully gone. He glanced between the two of us and then sauntered into the room.

"So, I see that you have gained your strength," his voice was low and menacing. "And you are screaming the house down," he stated with an irritated look at me. I shrugged and then took a voluntary step back so that he could take over the show.

"I\'ll be downstairs with the others, then," I announced as I turned to go.

"No," I heard him order and froze instantly. I turned around in the next moment to face him again.

"Yes, Boss?" The question in my voice was more out of confusion and indecisiveness about what to call him to his face than the dilemma of remaining in the room.

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