"Love speaks in flowers. Truth requires thorns." -Leigh Bardugo

"Ryan, your dad-"

"Good afternoon to you too mum." He greeted her, his mother, who was fidgeting with her black gloves and the small handbag gripped tightly in her hands. As usual Mirena Thorpe was looking as exquisite as ever in a black skirt suit and black kitten heels. Black stockings covered the entirety of her legs, from her knees, down her calves to the toes that were peeking out from the little openings at the front of her open-toed pumps. Her blonde hair was short, cropped, and as yellow as the blonde locks on her son's head and beneath the bangs were a pair of startling blues that Ryan must have inherited.

"I wish we had the luxury of that, but your father-"

"I know mum." Ryan cut her off. "He plans on cutting me off and to be honest, I do not care."

"Don't talk like that! With Lennita in Veterum, you are our o

"It is the time you have spent on your rose that makes her so important. - Antoine De Saint.

As expected the dinner proved to be quite eventful if the number of suspicious glances moving in between them and around the table was anything to go by. The air was tense with unspoken words and it tortured Mirena to know that she may have been the main cause of it. Had things between them escalated this much? What kind of life had she been living if her only son was now staring at her as if he somehow expected the worst from her? The looks of steel coming from Katrina were also had to miss. She must hate her, Mirena thought. All the pain and suffering their ambitions had brought these children. Suddenly Mirena felt very remorseful.

"Look, I am very sorry." She said, setting her forks down. "I have not been the best mother Ryan and for that I apologise." The other two stopped eating and turned

" A thorn defends the rose, harming only those who would steal the blossom. - Chinese Proverb.

Ryan finished his painting and left the canvas out to dry. It had been a week since his journey to the South to Katrina's new place and inspiration had now seemed to have struck or had flooded in.

Over ten canvases waiting to be framed filled now stood on almost every corner of his spacious studio and with the sale of these, Ryan was sure that his father would not have that much of a hold on him. He should have been scared, the man knew, but his father had been careless to dismiss his art as a useless hobby. A waste of time, he had called it, but Ryan knew better. This hobby was what was paying his bills and with the investments he had made out of his income, he was sure that he could continue to live a comfortable life despite his father's numerous threats.

Ryan wiped his hands and walked o

"Love speaks in flowers. Truth requires thorns." -Leigh Bardugo

"Ryan, your dad-"

"Good afternoon to you too mum." He greeted her, his mother, who was fidgeting with her black gloves and the small handbag gripped tightly in her hands. As usual Mirena Thorpe was looking as exquisite as ever in a black skirt suit and black kitten heels. Black stockings covered the entirety of her legs, from her knees, down her calves to the toes that were peeking out from the little openings at the front of her open-toed pumps. Her blonde hair was short, cropped, and as yellow as the blonde locks on her son's head and beneath the bangs were a pair of startling blues that Ryan must have inherited.

"I wish we had the luxury of that, but your father-"

"I know mum." Ryan cut her off. "He plans on cutting me off and to be honest, I do not care."

"Don't talk like that! With Lennita in Veterum, you are our only heir and I can't afford to lose you too."

"That would have to be your choice mum. Tell me, do y

Chapter 15