The Ricci Rules

Chapter One - Sienna De Luca

"Cazzo! Devo fare tutto da solo?!" Fuck do I have to do everything myself.

"Where the fuck is everyone? ANDREA!" The vein in my head was about to burst.

My youngest sister scurried out of the stockroom pulling her braid from her back. Panic written on her face, knowing she fucked up. I've got a meeting in less than 5 minutes and if there's anything I hate, it's wasting time. Time was money after all.

I didn't have a moment to spare so my glare spoke for itself.
"I've arranged today's orders, you make sure Pipi Louie gets it and delivers them by midnight. No excuses. He gives you trouble, you ring Sully."

My eyes took in our surroundings; flowers of all kinds, in an array of colours surrounded me. Andrea insisted that the store needed to have a makeover, mind you in about fifty years nothing ever changed here.

The thing with Andrea is that she's as stubborn as me. So I get to thank her for the botanical theme that now oozes peace, my favourite being the indoor fountain that silently spilled over its edges. The space looked more like a greenhouse than a store, all glass planes and waterfall walls, vines climbed the panels and intertwined with the lights. It truly was beautiful and serene. It was the one place that brought me some calm and peace. A sort of safe haven in the middle of New York City, away from the traffic and buzz.

Marco's fiore was famous, the most popular florist in New York; there were three branches within the city. So successful that it's been in our family for generations and the perfect cover for selling an addictive bud to the rich and powerful, all the way down to the local crack houses.
A store named after my father and his father and somewhere up the list of ancestors, there's another Marco that reeked of havoc and mayhem.

Now this store was known for one thing and that was me.
I am Marco's fiore, the newest product, the most addictive.
Customers met my sweet smile and musical laughter and have nicknamed me Marco's fiore since I was five, with a missing tooth and all.

My father's flower. It was ironic and amusing.

I had put my all into this store and created a legacy that outmatched anything my father or his could have done with it. Despite the success and the peace I received from these walls, today I felt off.

The air felt ominous and hot.

There was a restlessness that had been bothering me since waking up this morning, I couldn't seem to put my finger on it and my gut feeling was never wrong.

Today was not going to go well at all.

I idly picked a black pearl lily off the gold edged marble counter and weaved it through the strands of my little sister's hair.

Andrea relaxed as she watched the glare slide off my face. Knowing I had one weakness. I didn't believe in love, or have a place for it in my world but whatever came close, it was only for my sisters, this one in particular.

At the age of seventeen she exuded a type of innocence that I once craved, maybe when I was slightly more human and foolish. But it's an aura I wanted her to keep. To cherish, so long as I'm alive, this world won't get to her.

Her fondness for flowers and her warped sense of admiration for me brought her here. She had fought me tooth and nail to come aid me in some way, any way that could take off an ounce of burden that sat on my shoulders.