Rose and Ruins Sample

To those who crave the heat, the danger,

and the taste of temptation too sweet to resist.

For the ones who love hard, fight harder,

and let their darkest desires run wild.

To the sinners, the rebels,

the ones who get off on the chaos and the burn.

To the ones who know that nothing worth having

comes without a little blood, sweat, and sin.

This one’s for Dante—my temptation,

my chaos, and my obsession.

And for you, the brave souls,

who dared to follow us into the bed of fire.

Enjoy the burn.

The Encounter

The bar was a symphony of chaos. Lila wiped the countertop with practiced efficiency, her sharp eyes scanning the room. The dim lighting masked the scars of age on the furniture, but not the crowd’s rough edges. Her regulars were easy to spot—truck drivers nursing cheap beer, tired office workers drowning their day in whiskey. And then there were the men in the corner booth.

They didn’t belong. Tailored suits, gleaming watches, and an air of danger that clung to them like the smoke curling from their imported cigars. Lila had learned to spot their kind early. Mafia.

“Another round, sweetheart,” one of the regulars slurred, slapping a twenty onto the counter. Lila resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she poured the cheap bourbon. It was only 9 PM, and the night had already taken a sharp turn for the worse.

The door swung open with a creak, and Lila felt it before she saw it. A shift in the atmosphere. Conversations dipped, heads turned, and a heavy silence blanketed the room for a fleeting moment. She glanced up and froze.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and cloaked in the kind of confidence that came from knowing you were the most dangerous person in the room. Dark eyes scanned the bar, landing briefly on her before continuing their assessment. His black hair was slicked back, the sharp cut of his jaw accentuated by the soft glow of the neon sign behind him.

Dante.

Lila knew his name without needing an introduction. Whispers of him had reached her ears long before this moment. The enforcer. The wolf in a tailored suit. If the mafia needed someone to disappear, Dante was the man for the job.

He moved with a predator’s grace, each step deliberate, as he approached the corner booth. The men seated there—powerful in their own right—shifted uncomfortably, making room for him.

“Who the hell is that?” muttered one of the regulars, but Lila didn’t answer. She kept her head down, focusing on refilling drinks and pretending her hands weren’t trembling. The last thing she needed was attention from someone like Dante.

Unfortunately, fate had other plans.

“Hey,” a voice growled, low and gravelly. Lila looked up to find one of the suited men standing at the bar, his eyes narrowed. “Bring a bottle of your best whiskey. Now.”

She arched a brow, unimpressed by the demand. “You want the good stuff, you’ll pay upfront.”

The man’s lip curled, but before he could respond, Dante’s voice cut through the air like a blade.

“Relax, Vincent.” Dante leaned back in the booth, his gaze fixed on Lila. “She’s just doing her job.”

Vincent hesitated, then stepped back, muttering under his breath. Lila grabbed the bottle of aged whiskey from the top shelf, her pulse quickening as she walked toward their table. She could feel Dante’s eyes on her the entire time.

As she set the bottle down, his hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist. She froze, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the chill running down her spine.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice smooth but laced with something darker.

“Lila,” she said, trying to keep her tone steady.

His grip tightened ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who held the power. “You’ve got sharp eyes, Lila. That’s dangerous in a place like this.”

“I mind my business,” she replied, her chin lifting defiantly.

Dante’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Smart girl.”

He released her, and Lila stepped back, her heart hammering in her chest. As she returned to the bar, she could hear the low hum of their conversation, but the words were lost in the clatter of glasses and the jukebox’s mournful tune.

The night dragged on, each moment heavier than the last. The suited men drank and laughed, their voices growing louder as the hours passed. But Lila couldn’t shake the feeling that Dante’s gaze followed her every move.

Then, it happened.

The sound of a gunshot shattered the relative calm, followed by the crash of a chair hitting the floor. Lila dropped the glass she was holding, shards scattering across the counter. Chaos erupted as patrons scrambled for cover, their screams mixing with the blaring jukebox.

She ducked behind the bar, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Peering over the edge, she saw Dante standing, a gun in his hand. One of the men from the booth was slumped over, blood pooling beneath him.

“Let this be a lesson,” Dante said, his tone calm despite the carnage. “You don’t cross us.”

The man’s bodyguards looked ready to retaliate, but Dante’s crew was quicker. Guns were drawn, and within seconds, the bar was at a standstill, the tension so thick it was suffocating.

Dante turned, his eyes locking onto Lila. He walked toward her, his steps measured and unhurried. She tried to move, to run, but her body refused to cooperate.

“Lila,” he said, his voice low and commanding. “Come here.”

She hesitated, her instincts screaming at her to stay put. But defying Dante felt like a death sentence in its own right. Slowly, she rose to her feet and stepped around the bar.

“You’ve got a choice,” he said, his gaze boring into hers. “You can either forget everything you saw tonight, or you can be useful.”

“Useful how?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

A dark smile curved his lips. “Stick around, and you’ll find out.”

More coming soon to the Barnes and Noble website!