CHAPTER 1: FARFALLA

Rosaline pushed her shoulder length, brown hair out of her face.

Surely this heat will go away

, she thought, wiping sweat from her brow.

Squinting, she looked up at the noon sun; her green eyes sparkled with exhaustion. She’d been working in her garden for hours and had gotten nowhere. The weeds from winter had not been kind to the large bed of roses that decorated the front of her house.

With a huff, Rosaline rose to her feet, dusted her jeans off and went inside for a well-deserved glass of sweet tea. Sitting down at the table, she realized that the garden wasn’t important to the person who would be visiting. In fact, she knew they gave not a single fuck about such things at all. At the tender age of twenty-six, she was already acting like her grandmother.

Yuck

, she thought.

I should’ve never listened to my sister.

Letting out a sigh, Rosaline poured herself another glass, but this time, she added a bit of whiskey.

As the alcohol set in, she realized spiking her own drink was a big mistake. Its taste soothed her, but its chemical makeup made her warm and tired, adding to her misery from the summer heat.

She placed the glass in the sink and made her way to the upstairs bathroom. Its white marble floors and large french doors always made her feel undeserving. She hadn’t earned this house; at least not by any means deemed ladylike. Still, she didn’t care. Her first husband owed it to her. She cared for him when no one else would and stood by him through all of his adultery and lies. He, unfortunately, died in a skiing accident with his mistress a few years earlier.

It was both a curse and a blessing to her. She no longer had to pretend to love a lecherous old man, but her heart had been tied down by his passion to care for her. However, the fiery passion in his loins was stronger than his love for her.

She shuddered. Thinking of him always made her bitter. A bitterness that quickly faded when she thought of the large sum of money she had gained when she cashed out the insurance policies she had taken out on him.

Rosaline peeled off her clothes and stepped into the shower, turning the knob between cool and ice cold. The droplets felt like needles pricking her skin, causing her perky breasts to grow goosebumps.

They’ll be here soon. I should hurry.

She washed herself quickly and wrapped herself in an oversized bathrobe while she sifted through her closet. It didn’t take long for her to settle on a skin tight dress which made her caramel skin look more radiant than ever. Its strapless design defied gravity and observers would surely think the dress only stayed on because of its unwavering desire to caress her beautiful curves.

Looking herself over, Rosa struck a few poses and donned a pair of cerulean heels. Despite her lack of makeup and jewelry, the dress and shoes alone screamed for attention.

The doorbell chimed, and a devious smile slid onto her lightly freckled face. After blowing herself a kiss in the mirror, she made her way to the front door and departed with her guests. As the trio got into the black town car, Rosa giggled feverishly, convincing herself that she had earned this night out.

They arrived at a dark, seemingly rundown building thirty minutes later. Its windows were boarded up and the dimly lit alley showed no signs of activity other than a stray calico mewing atop a garbage can.

“It’s good to see you too, Lena,” Rosa said, petting the well-groomed kitten on her head.

Deep purrs escaped the animal’s throat before the other two individuals stepped out of the car. The man, James, was in his mid-thirties. His short blond hair was neatly combed and his tall figure was suited up in an expensive ensemble, complete with a gold Rolex. He adjusted his tie impatiently as a cute twenty-something Asian woman slid next to him, clinging to his arm affectionately. Her naturally black hair had been dyed a bright purple, making her smokey-grey eyes seem lighter than usual.

“Can we go in already? It’s cold out and I’m ready to party,” she whined, tugging down on her very short t-shirt dress.

Rosaline rolled her eyes, and grabbed the girl’s arm, pulling her towards the entrance.

“I won’t let you embarrass us again tonight. I have no issue getting you replaced,” she hissed at the scantily clad beauty in thigh-high boots. She always hated when James brought his new “toys” to play dates. It never ended well and she was always left cleaning up their messes.

James walked behind the two and slipped his arm around Rosa’s waist.

“No need to be jealous. Tenya won’t be joining us after tonight,” he whispered as a blast of loud music flowed from the hidden entryway to Farfalla.

The three of them stepped inside, excited for fun to unfold. As usual, James disappeared to do his usual “scouting” and Rosa pushed the brat off on the first dom willing to take her. She didn’t feel the need to warn them that the train wreck, Tenya, was unbearably untrainable.

Looking around, Rosaline felt a heavy wave of nostalgia hit her. She’d first met James about two years ago at this very club. She was a grad student and had come with some lady friends she had met at homecoming just nights before. Her husband had passed away a few months prior and they insisted that she needed to move on.

She hadn’t known what this place was back then, but she quickly found out. Every woman was dressed to kill and the men… Well, they were ready to take home the first girl that wasn’t trouble; the exact opposite of what Rosaline had been.

Her “no nonsense” attitude and brain-picking conversation made her highly desirable, yet she was too much work for her worth. Nevertheless, James saw an invaluable potential, and swept her up. Over the next few weeks, he wined and dined her, bought her gifts when they went for tennis, and made sure her bills were paid. He had no idea that she was sitting on a mountain of money. She thought it odd, but she fell for him deeply. It wasn’t until a few months in that she noticed a change in herself. She went to be dearly to wake up with him. She’d stopped calling him “James” and referred to him as “Sir” at all times. He had groomed her to do as she was told, or find herself being reprimanded.

“You’re mine,” he’d say before taking her in his bed.

“I’m yours,” she’d reply in a confidently sultry voice as he cuddled and kissed her all over.

There were times when she’d ask about his past relationships, but he’d always avoid giving her any solid answers. They never seemed to add up, but Rosa didn’t mind; she liked the attention. However, that reality didn’t last. Six months in, James said she needed to try something new—

someone

new.

The two of them would go out and bring home a new

friend,

who would later turn into another toy for James. Since Rosaline was always on the fence about what she liked, she was perfectly okay with being able to explore her preferences in a safe space. It was very essential to understanding what she wanted, and she didn’t want any of the kooky skanks that James brought home. They made a compromise, eventually—he scouts, she vets, and if all went well, a new toy they would have.

Snapping out of the bittersweet memories that plagued her, Rosa searched for her owner. Moments later, he slipped up behind her, informing her that the pickings were slim and rotten. She scoffed and tossed her hair to one side; she had already known none of the women there were worth their time. Without any further discussion, they left the party and returned to James’s place.

* * *

His penthouse condo sat on prime real estate, high over the city, and there was no better view in the downtown area. It  was decorated with lavish things, but it was minimalistic. He hated clutter and he hated simple. Despite him being single, save for his submissive, Rosaline, the condo was equipped with a grand kitchen, four bedrooms, an office, and a spare room towards the back of the condo. He’d never let her enter the extra room so she often joked it was his “Red Room” which caused him to cringe in annoyance. James did so quite often when Rosaline compared any part of their relationship to the abusive shitstorm known as

50 Shades of Grey

. He was no Christian, and she was

definitely

no Ana.

“It’s getting late. You should go,” James instructed.

Rosa stared at him, sleepy-eyed and irritated.

“We’ve been together this long and you

still

won’t let me stay over on a weekday?” she huffed, pulling her high heels back on with an exaggerated eye roll.

“You know the rules. Shall you choose to break them—”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be tossed to the curb,” she finished for him.

James gave her a playful smirk, raising his left eyebrow.

“I’ll call a car service for you,” he continued. “We’ll spend the weekend together.”

James kissed her passionately and pinched her bottom. She hated it, but it was a warning not to push him further.

* * *

The next day, she returned, ready to spend the full weekend with her “billion dollar lover” as her friends called him. Since it was a Friday, James would be working late, but Amari, his maid, would let her in to wait for him. She passed the time by drinking wine, watching cooking shows, and of course, indulging in the trashy reality shows that graced their cable service.

It was approaching 7:30PM, Amari had left hours ago, but James still hadn’t arrived. Rosa watched the city lights flicker on in the distance as she dozed off on the plush chase that sat by the living room window. Once her eyes started to droop heavily, she heard a soft

tap, tap, tap

of high heels against the marble floor, and the scent of a calming, yet sweet perfume filled the air.

What… who could be in here?

Rosaline pondered, frantically trying to fight the drowsiness taking over her body.

The sound grew louder, stopping just behind her, and the reflection of a black-haired woman came into view as Rosaline fell into a deep sleep.