Rosalie Reed, a woman with everything. She's famous, rich, beautiful and successful. However, she holds a deep dark secret.
She was raised in the middle of her father's business. The mafia.
The fame and fortune has gotten to her head, unable to cop...
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My parents came to visit me...it did not go well at all.
~Yesterday~
"She's coming home!" My father screamed in Lombardi's face.
Lombardi stayed calm, but I could see that my fathers raised voice was starting to aggravate him. "Well, since she's my fiancé, she's staying here."
I wasn't fighting with either of them. And to be honest, I didn't want to go home. I know my parents would want me to sit down with Tiago and talk about what happened.
And sure, communication is key but not when they hit you.
After almost an hour of endless arguing, my father finally gave in. "Rose, if he hurts or even annoys you, you call me, got it?"
"Got it."
~Now~
So that went great!
Tara and I are going out today, some of my bruising has calmed down, but I still need to hide it.
I sat in the cafe with a coffee in my hand, waiting patiently on Tara. I feel like her and I have grown apart.
However, we both have things going on, troubles of life and all that.
Tara walked into the cafe with a frown, once her body entered the place, the energy shifted. The once calm presence became cloudy and heavy.
She immediately caught my eyes and made her way over to me. Even though she kept clear eye contact, her head was slightly tilted down.
"Alright," her voice mumbled. She wore a black shirt with baggy jeans, her eyes didn't look as heavy as they used to. However, her lips stayed in a frowned position.
"Do you wanna get a coffee?" I asked her.
"No, I need to talk to you."
I lowered my mug and took a glance at her. She was evidently angry, but it didn't feel like it was towards me.
"Rose, I love you...you know that?" She started off.
She bit the dry skin off her lips as her eyes scanned the room, looking everywhere but me.
"You haven't been there for me," Tara's voice lightly hardened. "I mean, I was going through a tough time and you only seen me twice, do you know how hurt that made me feel?"
I felt my eyes burn, as if I was going to cry. "Fuck, I'm so sorry Tara," I tried to say before being interrupted.
"Please don't give me pity now, I really needed you."
"I'm really really sorry, I know I haven't been as supportive as I usually am and I can't apologize enough for that," I finished my sentence. And I fucking meant it.
Sure, I'm going through shit too but she's my best friend. I should've been there for her.
"Now I just need time, this week has really been eye opening for me," her words hit like a thousands swords through the heart.
I don't know what I'd do without Tara.
I nodded, "I'm really sorry Tara, what can I do to make it up to you?"
She let out a sarcastic chuckle, making heads turn to our table. "Nothing. There's nothing you can do, I just need some time to think about our friendship."
I nodded once again.
"Okay."
Her brows rose slightly, but only for a second. Almost like she was shocked by my response.
"Okay, I'll see you around," she said before getting up. I watched her leave, I couldn't believe what just happened. I haven't been there for her, and I know that but I didn't think it was this bad.
Too much has been happening.
I need a fucking break.
As I tried to let the conversation sink in, my phone began to ring.
No caller ID
"Hello?" I answered, keeping my voice down.
"Celeb Chronicles, page 15."
Then they ended the call. Their voice was neither masculine or feminine, almost a perfect mixture of both.
Instead of buying the paper, I went online and checked the article.
Dan Torres found dead in Paris, France last night. It is believed that he overdosed on a mixture of drugs and alcohol.
"Dan was a loving person, he was sweet and generous with everyone he met. My heart breaks knowing that my son was took from this earth too soon." -Helen Torres, Dan's mother.
The autopsy report has not yet released. However, drugs and empty bottles of whiskey were found in his hotel room.
"He wasn't much of a drinker and I had no idea that he was addicted. Dan would always tell us that he would never touch a substance."
