Chapter 1
Ruby
Another Midnight Rose left on my window. A delicate and rare flower and also my favorite. A black rose with bright blue edges. I feel like it's somehow a reflection of my life.
Another reminder of the boy I left behind. Only he knew they were my favorite flowers. Only he knew the real me. No one has cared since to get to know me. The day he left, my world went as dark as the middle of that flower.
Orlando was the only boy brave enough to make friends with me. He was my best friend for many years until my brother died, and then my father locked me away in this tower with no contact with the outside world other than my teacher and the housekeeper.
Oh, and the men who stand guard outside my door, but they don't talk to me. I've tried, but they won't. They listen because when I ask them for something, it appears—everything from medicines to my father.
Did I mention my father is a Mafia boss? And my brother wasn't exactly killed; he was kidnapped and murdered by another family. It made my father slightly crazy because he was to take over the family. Oh, and because, as his daughter, my only purpose now is to be married off to another family to forge an alliance and strengthen both families.
So now I'm not free to leave the tower on the estate, and no one is allowed in. The only time I will be permitted to leave is on my wedding day. What happens to me then will be up to my husband.
Before I was locked away, Orlando came over every day after school, and we played in the garden or with my dolls or his trucks. He called me Rapunzel because of my long, red hair, like my mom’s. I loved it long and still keep it that way all these years later. Silly, but I feel like it's a tie to him.
The Russo family has to be protected at all costs. I know that. It doesn't mean I like it. But it’s gotten worse since my brother died. I feel smothered, and I'd do anything for some socialization with someone my age.
Today is a typical Tuesday for everyone else, but not for me. Because I got this flower on my window, which is no small feat, being several stories up. Today I realize maybe I haven't been as alone as I thought. And today, I start to hope again.
The longer I stare out into the dark, the more I feel like someone is watching me. Even though I can't see anyone, I sense he's watching me from the shadows. I've had a suspicion for years that Orlando is there just outside my line of sight, but I always thought it was in my head.
This is the first physical sign of my suspicions. I open the window, and the humid Charleston air hits my face. I stare out into the dark a bit longer, and I can still feel his eyes on me.
"Thank you," I say into the void, hoping he can hear me.
I wait for a sign that he’s there, even just a twig snapping. Any little sign.
But I hear and see nothing.
"I miss you," I tell him and wait again, hoping for a sign, though deep down, I know it won't come.
Still nothing. No sound or sign, but I know he's there; I can feel him. Just like I used to feel it the moment he entered the garden all those years ago when we played together.
I don't know if he's listening or this is all in my head. It may very well be me going crazy after all these years. When I bring the flower to my face and smell it, it brings back happier memories.
Memories of us playing in the garden here on the estate. A garden I'm not even allowed to visit anymore. Flashes of him teaching me to ride a bike up and down the driveway. Swimming in the pool on hot summer days, which are more often than not here in South Carolina.
I miss the pool. I miss the bike. I miss the garden. But I miss him more. I'd give it all up to have him back.
He was the only one who cared about me, the person, not me, the object to be traded. He was the only one who was nice to me, without reason. He didn't want anything from me except my friendship.
Closing my window, I place the rose on my nightstand and lie in bed. Now that I'm eighteen and have graduated high school, I have a meeting with my father tomorrow to discuss my future. I know he intends to marry me off; the sooner, the better, but I have other plans and dreams.
I've been putting together my best argument for why I should be allowed to go to college and get a two-year degree before I’m married off. I list the reasons again in my head, over and over, like I have every night.
If he doesn't allow it, I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.
I'm a Russo, which may mean it's time to wash my hands in blood. Come hell or high water, I’ll be on my own very soon.
