ROSES ON FIRE

Riccardo

Sicily, Palermo

"Relax baby and give it to me as you always do. You are a God at this. What is happening? Is everything ok with you?"

I heard the woman next to me speaking and instead of calming me, it left my blood boiling. What the hell was wrong with me? Without thinking, I pushed her off me and got out of bed.

I didn't need this additional burden right now. I had been feeling like a zombie, going through the motions with no energy. As Maura took in her surroundings, she noticed something was amiss.

"Get dressed and get out of my house!" I ordered her without a thought for her emotions. I had no regard for any woman, and I showed it through my actions. None of them could pry the beast out of me, no matter how hard they tried.

She knelt on the crumpled sheets, her gaze heavy-lidded as she stared at me.

"But Riccardo..."

Out of nowhere, a wave of darkness filled my mind. No one ever asked anything of Riccardo Serratore, least of all a w*ore.

I couldn't control anymore and hit Maura across the face. As her eyes brimmed with tears, she searched in vain for a shred of compassion.

"Get the hell out!" I shouted again, pointing to the door.

Maura shuffled her clothes together from the floor and stepped out, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the hallway. I was alone, the only sound being the gentle whisper of my thoughts. The persistent noise must have prompted Aida to come upstairs. My mother's sister was like a second mother to me; I could always count on her for her advice and unwavering support. The one who was aware of my secret, but also the one who encouraged me the most to seek help.

"Riccardo, is everything all right?" Aida marched through the door without a care in the world, not stopping to knock, as if she owned the place. Out of all the people here, she was the only woman to do it, and it didn't bother me in any way. When her gaze swept around the room and she viewed the disarray, she realized what difficulty I was facing. "Another misfire, huh?"

My face grew hot and I could not bring myself to look her in the eye out of shame. Aida made her way towards me. The gentle touch of her hands, toughened from much labor, had a reassuring and healing power. "My dear, change this face. I know sometimes it's hard to accept, but maybe you just haven't found the right woman yet. You haven't found the one who will cure you from this condition"

She was trying her hardest to motivate me to find peace within myself, but unfortunately, this strategy was no longer successful. I was fast losing my patience.

"I'm sick and tired of screw-ups, Aida! I'm sure I don't have any medical problems... I don't know and I don't understand why it doesn't get hard when I see a woman like Maura"

"These things take time, Riccardo. You just need to be patient. A tall, handsome man like you with these sparkling blue eyes won't take long to find a woman you would truly fall in love with."

Aida had been with me for such a long time and her insistence could be quite irritating at times, which I didn't appreciate. But I was too damn polite to tell her she could be wrong. I was sincerely thankful for her always being there for me and the support she provided. She was always there to remind me to be true to who I was and to stay genuine.

She always accepted my decisions without judgment and never made me feel like it was my fault. Even with my tendency to be short-tempered, she didn't hesitate to speak her mind and tell me what she honestly thought.

"You should take a break." She told me with a motherly smile on her face.

"It could be a good idea... I will be at the pool..."

I angrily made my way outside and out of the front door before heading to the outdoor pool. Here I was by myself again, engulfed in my own thoughts. I would often wish that I could start over and have a fresh beginning. Start from scratch. Alter something in order to make a difference. The music was the best part, however. Music was the one thing I didn't want to change.

Even if the apocalypse were to be unleashed, music would stay. It would be the priority item I would preserve. The cello was my haven of rest.

It was regrettable that I was not aware of how to play that marvelous instrument, but I had other methods of savoring its enchanting notes. Thus far, no artist, not a single one, had been able to probe the depths of my disquieted and tormented soul.

Every other night I would go to a concert, the lights flashing and the room shaking with excitement. But the monotony of the experience remained unchanged for me. Boring and pointless. The beautiful harmonies that women created at concerts mesmerized me. They turned me on and I would force them home and have my way with them. None could resist my charm, my demonic smile.

I kept pushing my limits until I felt like I was about to burst, and I knew that when I did, I wouldn't be recognizable. Their silly smiles would suddenly change and fear would immediately take the place of pleasure.

But somewhere along the journey, something would break. Something so fucked up that I would go out of my mind and they would fall victims of my unleashed rage.

I needed to relax, so I took a dip in the pool, the water caressing my body and making me feel whole again and vigorously swimming from one end to the other. Doing the exercise helped me to forget my worries and find a sense of calm.

But in the pool's vastness, it was just me and my thoughts. I had so much on my mind that I was losing nights doing nothing.

I had so much business awaiting enemies that wished to see me dead and buried. They were actually living only to cause me losses and enjoyed every second of it.

The Italian July sun was friendly in the mornings. Every morning without exception, I would finish the pool laps, and I was doing it until I was out of breath. And then, as Aida used to tell me, I emerged like a god from the water.

Tens of water drops were melting on my sculpted body, feeling them all the way to my underwear line. Already as a habit, I ran my hand through my dark hair and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Aida. I already felt a grimace in the corner of my mouth. I knew I was irresistible, and every time took advantage of this, as I always enjoyed teasing her.

My presence would make all women feel uncomfortable. Too bad nothing evolved from there.

"So, you like what you see?" Another one of my grimaces, but this time I felt it warming my face.

"Oh please, Riccardo! You can't be serious..."

We both laughed. I really loved her. This maternal love that had kept me a float. She always kept me afloat, rescuing me. But since all good things must end, and since until now I've tried to deny it, Aida had to go. And she had good reasons for doing it. The part that scared me the most was that I didn't know for how long.

"There is nothing I could say or do to make you stay, Aida?"

She could already see the regret in my eyes, a feeling I never showed to anyone but her.

"Oh, my boy! You know that's impossible."

She cupped my unshaved cheeks with her hands and, with the deepest look in her already teary eyes, she spoke again. "My dear boy, in life, everything ends. So was my time here. You know I have another grandson that needs me. I have to be there for him, see him grow..."

"Yes, I know. But..."

The words just cut deep in my throat and I could not speak. Then, just like that, I threw my arms around her and kept this woman close to me, to my heart.

I felt like I was breaking in half. It was like time had stopped and for a few seconds there was no pool, no house, no nothing, just the two of us and our pure embrace. Finally, I released her and this time my hands covered her cheeks.

"Look Aida, I know you have to go. I've come to terms with the idea, even though I don't know when I'll see you again. But I just need you to tell me I'll be fine"

"But of course, you will be fine. You are Riccardo Serratore. You are always fine. Besides, there is your brother. You are not alone..." Hearing about my brother was like hearing about a stranger.

"I don't even know where my brother is right now..." I took a few steps back, drying my dark hair.

"Oh, well, he will come visit you, don't worry. He is just busy right now"

"Yes, whatever..."

"I will go pack now. I have an early flight in the morning"

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, thank you. You know I hate goodbyes"

And with that, my Aida said her farewell. It was going to be a long night. At least I could have filled it with that woman's performance.

An hour until an event that would either blow my mind or piss me off even more. I was going to need my people, as this woman would get the same treatment as those before her.

The event room in the center of Sicily got packed to its full capacity. Thousands of cello lovers were cheering the headliner. Cello Clare, the definition of femininity and beauty in a woman. This time, it was something different. It was an international competition with cellists from all over the world. Cello Clare was one of the many contestants. And this time I got to choose.

I was not looking for a woman specifically, just an ordinary woman. They were all the same, and they all turned me in the same way. The important thing was to get past that point.

My anger never went beyond physical aggression, instead I spilled my guts on various men who were around me at that exact moment. It didn't matter to me where I had her.

I always had the most stylish lodge reserved, perfectly positioned from where I could see who was performing. Artists held most of the concerts here, in the Diamond Hall, and the staff already knew me and my habits. And that's because I was spending a lot of money organizing concerts and maintaining the business.

They also knew and didn't question my decision to speak to the performer in person. What they didn't know was that the artist was going to come with me whether she wanted to.

Then she came walking in. The woman who from the first steps and the first smile aroused something in me. As they all did. Only this time, it was all at a much higher intensity. It felt like I was exploding.

When she started her performance, I almost couldn't take my eyes off her and the way she caressed the cello. With grace, with gentleness, with ecstasy. It was like she was playing for me. I made such insistent eye contact with her I had the feeling she had no choice but to hold my gaze for a few moments.

I enjoyed every second of it. And although she had a mask covering her eyes, she intrigued me even more to want to discover her. I watched her every move, every rebellious strand of hair. Cello Clare was a dream and that dream would soon turn into a nightmare.

But the time had come for me to own her. Right after the concert, I sent my men to bring her in, but to my shock and anger, this woman had slipped through their fingers.

"You bastards! You're worthless! How can you not bring me that woman?"

Everyone was silent, and that made me even more pissed off. I had already exited through the back door of the auditorium, so nothing stopped me from spilling my guts on those who disobeyed my orders. So, I punched in all directions and I knocked down whoever fell victim to my fury of blows to the ground. I punched until I was literally tired. "I must have this woman! Do you understand? You will bring her to me whether she wants it!"

London, UK

Clarissa

"Oh, come on, girl! Come with us. All you do is work. What are you? Some kind of workaholic? You went to that competition in Sicily just for the pleasure of playing the cello. And for some reason, I won't understand why you participated under your nickname. How are people supposed to know you? You don't even know if you won."

"I don't even care, friend! You know why I went there" I rolled my eyes just for Hannah to see. We had been best friends since high school and I followed the same career in journalism as she did. I enjoyed what I did for a living, but Hannah was right.

Sometimes I was so addicted to my work but also my hobby, the cello. "Hannah, you know that I have to cover the biggest story ever. The magazine would not forgive me if I screwed this up"

"Do you think I don't know that? The big boss put you in charge of the story of your lifetime. I almost got jealous!"

"Don't you go there, girl! We had no choice but to accept our tasks. And besides, Milena said it is ok for you to come with me to France to cover the story" I said with a broad smile on my face as I watched Hannah's eyes widen in amazement.

Milena had asked me to interview one of the greatest masters of the piano. Besides, all the women, including Hannah, thought he was a Casanova. I didn't have time for such nonsense.

"Well, something good has to come out of this one. I mean, that man is... THE MAN!"

My eyes got so big that I could take the entire room in them. She knew exactly why I took this assignment.

"Yes, whatever. I have so many things to think about right now, but a man! And especially him" I emphasized the last word strongly so Hannah could hear and not insist. When that happened, I felt relieved.

"Ok, I will not insist on you talking about this subject. Finally, it is your life. But be careful, the clock is ticking..." I hated it when she made threats like that.

I only got the chance to raise my hand over my head. Hannah was already far in the kitchen. She often said that, but with no bad intention. She had been married for five years now. No kids so far. She was just making sure I would not forget the woman inside me.

I followed my friend to the kitchen and found her at the table having a coffee. "Do you want some?" she asked, as if the conversation from earlier didn't even take place.

"Yes, please," I said resignedly.

I took a seat near her. The morning sun was coming in through the window. Hannah poured some hot coffee into my favorite cup. The argument seemed to be over.

"Here you are, Clare!" she handed me the cup in worry. Hannah used to call me that, when she noticed my thoughts were leading me into the past.

I sipped from the cup while closing my eyes, and was just mesmerized by the flavored aroma.

"I was thinking, Clarissa... you need a new dress! "She suddenly spoke and I was shocked by her conclusion. And it really came as a blow, especially since I wasn't used to buying clothes all the time.

"Why do I need a dress? I am a journalist. I will go there, have my story and then get out"

"Oh-my-God! Clarissa, you just didn't say that. An elegant one, I might add. You do not go there to be... different. You go there to be stunning! So, you definitely need a dress! You'll meet the man at a gala"

"If you say so..."

I gave up every weapon I had because dealing with Hannah was useless. If she said I needed a dress, it was because I did. I just exhaled in a way that my shoulders went so relaxed and Hannah made a grimace of victory.

"Come on, we have to be at the Devilish Ink in about an hour," she added, sipping the last gulp of coffee.

"Just let me grab my bag and my keys" I almost begged, dragging my feet to the door.

The drive to the tabloid Devilish Ink was so quiet that I thought at some point I was hearing my own thoughts. A story cover of the tumultuous life of the one and only Pierre Trottier. How in the world did I get into this position? I had so many cover stories by now, but this one was different. So different that my heart skipped a beat just to think of the importance of this story.

"Hey, Clarissa! Earth to Clarissa!"

"What?" I answered scared as if awakened from the deepest sleep. Hannah's voice caught me when I seemed both guilty and lost.

"What do you mean, what? I was asking you what kind of dress you prefer?"

"It doesn't matter! Just to be a... dress" I replied bored that this subject was not over yet.

"Okay, don't tell me. You're lucky I have to drive, otherwise I would have dragged you to the first store, but we don't have time for that now"

"Well then, lucky me... I guess..."

The rest of the drive to the magazine was again so quiet that perhaps I could now hear my friend's thoughts. I knew she meant well by taking me dress shopping. However, she may be right. I would have to travel to Paris, in the heart of magnificent France, the city of love, to a big and elegant mansion and see so many famous musicians with lots of money and fame. So, it was mandatory to shine that evening. And there was also the story I had to cover. So, it would be a pleasure mixed with duty. Well, more duty than pleasure. Sitting in a room full of rich people was not how I would have liked to spend my weekend, but I had no choice.

I was so lost in myself that I didn't realize we had already arrived at the Editorial.

"Clarissa... Clarissa... oh come on girl, not again! What are you thinking, hon?"

I winced again at Hannah's stern voice.

"I am sorry Hannah, it is just... Never mind, let's just go inside..." Even if I were to explain it over and over again Hannah wouldn't understand anyway. She lived for fashion and beauty and somehow wanted me to easily get into that zone. If not totally at least flirt with it a little.

"Ok, but promise me once we get home you will tell me all about it. I am your friend and I can help... if you'll let me!"

"Done. Now come, Milena is waiting for the morning gathering"

Every morning at Devilish Ink, Milena would gather all the columnists into the meeting room and, with her bossy attitude, she would share the stories to every single one of us. But now it would be different. We already had the stories, but Milena said we needed a plan of attack. That the world we were entering was full of famous people that we weren't allowed to disappoint. I went inside with my mind set up that they were also people.

"Ok, meeting everybody!" Milena's voice was like a wake-up call. We all jumped out of whatever we had been doing and followed her into the meeting room.

Every day I got filled with curiosity when I would enter that room. But now, it was almost as if the cat had killed curiosity and replaced it with excitement that something big was about to happen. "We have new information about the gala that will take place in Paris"

We were already shocked and the place filled with everyone's whispers. "Please keep quiet! I know this is short notice, but the gala would take place in Mr. Trottier's home"

"No way!" Every single look in that room was on me. I knew I had to say something clever. "I mean, is he ok with that?" I tried to fix my awkwardness as much as I could.

"Clarissa, I know you have to cover the story, but I assure you that this was Mr. Trottier's idea. So, his home, his private space, his territory"

"And you say that the organizers agreed?" I insisted that maybe I didn't hear it right.

"Not only did they agree, but they're very pleased about it. They said that this would be a great opportunity to put his fame at a whole new level. That it is a marketing thing and also to reveal his sensitive side of helping those in need, if a charity thing might happen in the future. You know, show us his human side."

"He does not need this kind of advertising so that people would know that he is kind and giving, does he?"

Even though I didn't know him personally, I defended him. I had done so much research on his life that I could say I already knew him. I had to do that so I won't be caught off guard.

"You have a point there, Clarissa, but it is not for us to decide but for his agent. He knows what is best for him and what is not. The television will be there too. So, in other words, we have to glow, inside and out. Especially you, Clarissa, for being next to him. You know that where he would be, you would be and also the television. You think you can handle this?"

Her question was like a guillotine waiting for me to speak so it could cut my head off. It was a great responsibility for what I had to do. I also heard that he could be so intimidating and he enjoyed being so. After all, he was single and an army of women was on his tail.

"I am aware why you ask me this Milena. I am a professional, so yes, I can handle this, and more!" I proudly said of my position I had reached in the publication. Because I knew my limits and my capabilities.

"That is precisely why I have chosen you on this mission. Ok, the rest of you will find on your computer the chores you have to fulfill until the next release of the Devilish Ink. I expect from you to be the best, understood?" Milena's voice echoed throughout the entire room.

"Yes, madam!" Everyone agreed.

"Clarissa, I will wait for you in half an hour in my office!" Milena continued before striding out.

"Ok... I will be there" I almost shouted after her intrigued wondering what she wanted?

The bustle was on again. Suddenly, I felt Hannah's hand dragging me to the open door all the way to the cafeteria. She did not lose the grip on my hand until we arrived in a much quieter place. Then she turned to me.

"Clare, are you sure you can do this?" she asked, worried.

"Not you too Hannah..."

"Clarissa, you know what I am talking about. I know you are very capable of taking this assignment to an end and with congrats and all. What am I asking you is that with all that happened to you...? I mean, it is a world full of men. You only did famous women so far, because Milena understood your restraint, but now you specifically asked for this"

"I know Hannah. I just thought that it was time for me to push a little forward and get as close to the truth as possible. And maybe let the wound heal for a change"

"And have they? Have they healed Clarissa?"

"Until I do this, I will not know for sure. I am positive that I want to sort this out and move on with my life. And before you say anything else, no, it was not Milena's fault!"

"But she sent you to the lion's nest. How could it not be her fault?"

"She doesn't know. I am sure she didn't..."

"Ok, if you say so... but I will not rest until you find your peace. And Skyler's peace too. I know you are just following a lead, but when will this all stop, Clare?"

"Not until justice is served, my friend. Not until justice is served!"

Riccardo

"Hey, my man, you came back!" When I saw my cousin again, it was unlike anything I've experienced so far, even if he wasn't long gone.

"But of course, I did. What were you thinking? That you can get rid of me that easily?"

I had really missed his jovial voice. Fabrizio was three years younger than me, which is why he was perhaps the most protected after the death of our parents. Apart from Aida, I was like his mother and father.

With one smooth gesture, I jokingly pushed my cousin and then, in an act of pure love, I put my arms around him, patting him on his back.

"Gosh, Fabrizio, you've only been gone a week and so much has changed in the area," I said with a bitter smile on my face.

My cousin was more loose, yet sometimes he seemed the most mature of the two of us, given my background.

"What do you mean?" A little trace of perplexity appeared on Fabrizio's calm face.

"For starters, Aida is gone!" The news fell like a bomb in the middle of a battlefield. It still affected me and now that I've repeated it even more.

"What do you mean gone?" he asked, looking worried.

"I mean gone, as in she left..." I went on a bit nervous as I had to repeat myself.

"When did that happen?" his questioning continued.

"Yesterday morning. After my usual pool bath, she threw the bomb"

"You know she has a little grandson" Fabrizio's calm face became full of love and serenity when he spoke of the young boy.

"I know. I was just not prepared for this. But that was not all that happened..." I tried to divert the subject, which was making me feel bad.

Fabrizio had moved closer.

"I am afraid you lost me here. What else happened? Another unpleasant business?"

"You can say that. I've seen a woman and I want her!" I said firmly and without hesitation.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time that's happened, would it?"

"This time it was so different, Fabrizio. The woman was already gone by the time my men got to her." I explained resentfully, thinking with regret about that evening.

"So, what's your plan now?" he became even more curious.

"I have to go on two levels. One I'm going to search until I find her. No matter how many days it may take me, I will find her. In the second plan, I intend to get a reliable person on my side now that Aida's gone."

"A trustworthy person? Who do you have in mind? Be careful what kind of person you bring into the network." Fabrizio's face suddenly darkened.

"You are well aware, my dear cousin, that I know all too clearly how to keep someone on a short leash and what the punishment would be if they break the simple rules I impose," I reassured him by reminding him of the treatment of those who betrayed me.

"That's what I'm afraid of, that you don't know your limit, Riccardo"

"Then I'll choose someone who will impose some limits, but not on me, but on the entire world,"

His puzzled look made me realize he was no longer with me. "In other words, I need to find the best journalist out there to make me look good. An image that's inconspicuous," I said proudly, folding my arms across my chest.

"Oh, I get it. You need someone to create a false image for you, or rather, hide all your mischief and madness. Then I have the perfect person for that."

"Who did you have in mind? I hope he is a pro. I don't feel like teaching a debutant all it is to it, to tell him my entire life story. My life, my background, my moods," I replied, bored knowing all too well my cousin's choices.

"Who said it was a he?" Fabrizio's laughter was so loud and cheerful that the entire house came to life.

Sometimes Fabrizio's mind was so twisted that I was sure he outdid mine. But his life was still a mystery to me.

But saying it was a woman, mischievous smiles settled on both of our faces. It was like we could read each other's minds.

"I've missed you Fabrizio!" I said loudly and with determination and hugged him, patting him noisily on his back.

"I've missed you too, Riccardo!"

"So, what's new?" I changed the topic again, wanting to catch up with all his steps.

The brief moment of awkwardness got quickly replaced with a normal chat. My cousin showed a great interest in my work. Or my business. He had always been there for me, supporting me in what I did. When I had a business in progress, Fabrizio had my back all the time.

"We have a shipment of white powder coming next week, so I'm glad to have you here. I could use a hand."

"I know, the one from England"

"Oh, so you're all set up"

"Of course, I am. And yes, I'm glad I can help you too."

"I knew I could count on you," I said to him, patting him on his shoulder. "Come on, let's go grab something to eat, shall we? My treat"

"Ok, done. I have to confess that I am starving"

The times spent with my cousin were memorable, especially since he was away most of the time. We took my car and went to a nearby restaurant. Everyone here knew us. It was impossible for me to avoid being recognized anywhere in Sicily. And it wasn't all good.

"Good morning Mr. Serratore, this way, please!" the waiter greeted us with a stupid smile on his face.

"Good morning, Klaus! After you..."

Usually, we followed him to our table, but this time I asked for a different one. I just wanted to talk with Fabrizio more privately about what was going to happen. "Thank you so much, Klaus! I will have the usual please, and for my cousin the same"

"Coming right up"

I watched the waiter while he went away and then turned to my cousin with my serious look.

"This is going out of hands, my hands..."

"What is going on, Riccardo? Is there something you aren't telling me?"

Fabrizio was now watching me with a concern I have never seen before in him.

"Some of my trusted men have told me that the police and the agents are after me. I desperately need this person you told me about. I need to make them cut me some slack so I can do my job."

"Okay, I get it. I'll see what I can do. This woman is very busy..."

"Do you think I care, Fabrizio? I want her to be here and already start writing for important newspapers and magazines all over Italy and around the world. If you said she's very famous, then no one would refuse her collaboration"

"Oh well, that's a good thing. Now let's see how we get her here."

"That's why I have you, my dear cousin, who always helps me. Tell me, who is it?"

Just as he was about to answer me, the waiter returned with our food.

"Clarissa Ward is her name, and she's from England," Fabrizio began as soon as Klaus left.

"Winner of many awards, she doesn't back down from anything. She now works for London's and perhaps the world's best-known tabloid, the Devilish INK."

"Okay, interesting. I already like her"

Then Fabrizio's face suddenly changed.

"But you know, it's not so easy to bring her to Sicily. She's very well liked there and if she disappeared without a trace like that, someone would look for her. Do you understand what I mean?"

"Well, in this case we have to make it so that it doesn't look like kidnapping, that she would come willingly. What else do you know about her?" Again, my cousin's face changed, only this time it became brighter.

"I know she's going to Paris to see a certain Pierre Trottier, a pianist who's holding a gala in honor of his creations."

"Well, that's perfect!" I suddenly flinched as if I had come up with the best idea ever.

"What's so perfect?"

"When everyone thinks she's in Paris interviewing that man, Pierre, she'll actually be here." I concluded with a wicked grin.

"I understand. What I don't get is how are you going to bring her here?" It took me a few seconds to not grimace, but he still got me.

"Oh no..."

"Oh, yes!" And I bet my face changed too. In my mind, I had this plan and the more I thought about it, the more realistic it seemed.

"You will go to London and pose as Pierre's right-hand man and under the pretext of escorting her personally, you will bring her here."

"What if she realizes and puts up a fight?"

"Then... knock her out, so you can bring her here with no trouble"