Somewhere...
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The city pulsed with life. Cars zipped past in streaks of metal and light, their horns blending into the hum of footsteps and chatter. People spilled from buildings like bees from a hive, weaving through the streets beneath a sky brushed with orange and gold. Skyscrapers loomed like silent sentinels, their shadows swallowing the last glimpse of the setting sun.
Amid the chaos, a little girl danced through the cobblestone pavement, her joy untouched by the noise around her. She was about six, dressed in a red-and-black floral dress, white stockings, and flat black shoes. Her wavy brown hair bounced with each skip, crowned by a red Alice-band. In her right hand, she clutched a worn teddy bear; her left was wrapped tightly around the hand of a man in a grey overcoat, black jeans, and sneakers. His short brown hair was tucked beneath a hat, and dark shades masked his eyes.
They walked in quiet rhythm, a pocket of calm in the storm, until they turned into a small convenience store.
The man pulled a shopping basket from the stack and began browsing the shelves. The little girl tugged at his coat, her voice ringing out.
"Mommy! I want some chocolate! Will you buy me some chocolate?"
Heads turned at the remark of the girl calling a man 'Mommy' instead of Dad or Uncle, wondering if they registered the weird address of name correctly. The man froze, then quickly knelt and placed a gentle hand over her mouth.
"Shhh! Tulip," he whispered urgently. "How many times have I told you? Not to call me that! Especially in public. You call me Uncle Jonny, remember? If you forget again, no chocolate, no ice cream, no princess dresses. Got it?"
Tulip nodded solemnly.
"Good girl. Let's go."
They moved through the aisles, Jonathan tossing items into the basket while Tulip trailed beside him, her teddy bear swinging.
A voice interrupted them.
"Wow… your daughter is very pretty."
Jonathan turned. A woman stood nearby, her presence striking. Long dark hair, black eyes, a flat nose, and full lips. She wore a black strapped dress and heels, a shopping basket dangling from her arm.
"Hi there, sweetie. What's your name?" she asked, crouching slightly to meet Tulip's eyes.
Tulip hesitated, clutching her bear tighter. "Tulip," she murmured.
The woman smiled. "Tulip. What a beautiful name. Your dad picked a lovely one."
Jonathan's jaw tightened behind his shades.
"I'm Sofia," the woman said, reaching out to touch Tulip's hair.
Tulip flinched and darted behind Jonathan's leg.
"Oh, don't be shy, dear. I won't hurt you. I'm just being friendly."
Jonathan felt Tulip's grip tighten. Her eyes were wide, uncertain. He knew that look—she was scanning for danger. She always did. Always had.
Jonathan noted the fear inside her eyes and he felt his heart squeeze in pain. His little girl has always been sheltered, living in hiding from the world since he didn't want her to be discovered. For the first time in six years, someone other than him has tried to approach her and he could see her fear because she was unsure if the person was trustworthy or not. But now that there were in a secure place, far from the expected danger, he was going to introduce her to the world and try to let her make some friends and live a normal life not hiding from it.
He knelt beside her. "It's okay, Tulip. Sofia's just being nice. You're safe."
Sofia tried again, brushing Tulip's hair with her fingers. Tulip recoiled further, burying herself behind Jonathan.
Sofia chuckled awkwardly. "She's really shy."
Jonathan offered a tight smile. "She doesn't get out much. But she's sweet, I promise. Just not today."
"I understand," Sofia said. "My daughter's the same. Takes time to warm up to people."
She turned to Tulip. "I hope we meet again soon, sweetheart. I'd love to get to know you."
Then to Jonathan: "I live on 4th Street, Mello Lane. Drop by sometime. Our girls could have a playdate." She winked and walked toward the counter.
Jonathan watched her disappear from sight ,then he sighed. "Come on, Tulip. Let's go."
They headed towards the counter, paid and stepped into a waiting taxi. Tulip nestled beside Jonathan, her bear tucked under her chin.
"You know, Tulip," Jonathan said gently, "you don't have to hide from people who are kind. Especially if I am around. You are only allowed to hide from strangers who try to be friendly when I am not around or if they are bad people who want to harm us. Otherwise you don't have to be afraid, there is nothing to fear."
Tulip looked up. "I wasn't hiding because I was scared, Uncle Jonny."
"Oh, yeah? Then why did you hide from Sofia when she was trying to be nice to you?"
"I was hiding because Sofia smelled bad."
Jonathan blinked. "Bad? What do you mean? You did not like her perfume?"
Tulip shook her head. "No."
"Then what?"
"She just smelled bad. Like that bad man that came to see you before at the house. The one that always beat and hurt, Uncle Jonny. Or Uncle Jonny's friend who always bought you gifts before you send me away so he couldn't see me. Sofia smelled bad just like that." Replied Tulip.
Jonathan's blood ran cold. He felt like a bucket of cold icy water was poured on him. His grip on her arm tightened.
"Can you smell the bad scent on me?" he asked, voice trembling.
Tulip shook her head. "No. Uncle Jonny doesn't have the bad smell. His scent is like of flowers, just like Tulip"
"Okay....what about the taxi driver?" Jonathan asked in a low voice.
Tulip sniffed. "No. He smells like car oil. You know the one you made me sniff after you fixed our car."
"What about in the store? Did anyone else have that bad smell besides Sofia?"
Tulip thought hard. "No. Just Sofia."
Jonathan turned, scanning the traffic behind them. Nothing suspicious. But Tulip's words echoed in his mind.
She can smell the poison. But how?
He looked at her—curious eyes pressed to the window, watching the world blur past.
A memory surfaced, sharp and cruel:
"Your daughter is unique. She inherited the Black Tulip from you. Although hers is stronger than yours. Pure. She's like a titanium blockade against the poison. That makes her the devil's prize. He'll use her. And you'll be his breeding ground. You better keep this secret—or you will lose everything."
Jonathan clenched his fists.
I swore to protect her. I'll die before they touch her or me! Never will I let them get their hands on us. And with Tulip having the ability to smell the poison. I am going to use it to our advantage to avoid those bastards.'
"Driver," he said, voice firm. "Take us to the airport."
"Got it," the driver replied, pressing the accelerator.
...
Several cars behind, a voice crackled through a hidden earpiece.
"They're heading to the airport."
"I've got the sample. When should I send it to the lab?"
"Understood."
Beep.
Sofia ended the call and turned to the small plastic bag on her purse. Inside were strands of wavy brown hair—Tulip's hair. She'd plucked them when she touched her.
A slow smile spread across her lips.
She turned her gaze back to the road, eyes locked on the taxi ahead.
The hunt had begun.
....
Meanwhile...
"Iron Rose is pursuing them. What are your orders if she captures them, my Liege?" asked a man in a black formal suit, his voice steady but cautious.
He stood inside a lavish study, its furniture gilded in silver and gold, the air thick with silence and power. Across the room, another man faced the window, his back turned. He leaned against a grand desk, his physique sculpted and commanding beneath a black shirt and tailored slacks. Polished shoes gleamed beneath him, and his long, wavy dark brown hair was tied into a low ponytail that trailed down his back like a silk ribbon.
In one hand, he held a glass of brandy. In the other—a white and gold horse whip.
The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. The suited man felt sweat pooling in his palms, the weight of the moment pressing down like a storm about to break.
Then, at last, a voice emerged—low, husky, and deliberate.
"Leave them."
The suited man blinked. "Huh? But my Liege… I thought you wanted them. Especially the girl. She's the key to your evolution. Are you certain you want them free?"
The man called my Liege swirled the brandy slowly, then took a measured sip.
The air shifted. The aura around him darkened, dangerous.
"Call Iron Rose," he said, voice calm but laced with steel. "Tell her to keep her distance. She'll receive new orders when the time is right."
He drained the last of the brandy and placed the glass on the desk with quiet finality.
"Right now… I have a rose that demands my attention. One whose thorns are going to grow too wild to be plucked if I don't do some pruning very soon. I was pricked once. I don't intend to be pricked again."
He turned his gaze toward the wall.
"Tell the Ogre to dig out the mole in my cave," he said coldly. "And give it a proper send-off. I'll summon you when I have further instructions."
"Yes, my Liege," the suited man replied, saluting before hurrying out of the room like a man fleeing a ghost.
The man called my Liege walked toward the wall in slow, deliberate steps. He stopped, eyes locked on a single point.
A smirk curled his lips.
"This time… I'll burn down the entire bush if I have to. You fooled me once, but you won't fool me again. But... I'm curious to see what you've prepared for me this time… Rosella."
He whispered.
He turned and strode out of the study, closing the door behind him.
Silence returned.
On the wall where he had stood, staring intensively, a golden-framed painting hung—regal, haunting. A woman stared out from the canvas, her black wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, her small black eyes glinting with quiet fire. A delicate nose and rose-pink lips were framed by a golden crown. Dangling earrings and a necklace of gold adorned her neck, completing the portrait of elegance and power.
The framed painting spoke volumes inside the quiet study office like a secret framed in a canvas of beauty. Making one wonder,
What could it be.....