Page 104 of Breaking Rosalind
I collapse against his chest. “One day, I will stick a knife in your heart and leave you bleeding to death.”
He strokes my hair. “That’s the spirit. The more you fight me, the harder you’ll fall.”
“I won’t.”
Laughing, he pulls me closer. “We’ll see, pet. We’ll see.”
Rage-filled tears spill down my cheeks and mingle with the hot spray. One day, he’ll drop his guard, and I’ll strike.
It’s only a matter of time.
FORTY
CESARE
Roman just made his grandentrance with his date to a thunderous applause. Now, Benito and I are standing at his back staring at a sea of guests while he makes a speech.
Tuning out talk of his goals for improving New Alderney’s justice system, I go over my lines. My goals have never been as lofty as my brothers’ plans to expand the family empire. All I’ve ever wanted since Dad died was to pull our family together. Roman’s return from death row brought us back together, but Matty Galliano has the power to split us apart.
I push my thoughts away from that bastard and focus on what I want to say. Roman only asked for a few words, but I want this gathering of friends, family, and powerful players to know the Montesano brothers have a bond that extends beyond blood.
Just as I’m working out how to phrase it, a gunshot rings out, and Roman hits the ground.
Chaos erupts in the ballroom as staff and guests rush toward the exits. More gunshots ring in my ears, mingling with the screams and shouts and shattering glass. Benito crouches at my side, with his gun in hand, providing cover for Roman’s fallen body. I move in front of them both with my pistol trained on the stampede.
My blood boils and betrayal pounds at my heart with both fists.
Rosalind lied.
She said the Moirai would cancel the hit on us once we gave them evidence of Samson’s death. Some bastard shot at Roman anyway.
There should be two more shooters plus their backup, but what do I know? If Rosalind bullshitted about us being safe from assassins, then she probably also fabricated everything she told me about the way they organize their missions.
I need to focus on taking out the shooters and stop thinking about the traitorous bitch I left chained to the shower.
My gaze scans the crowd, on high alert for any suspicious figures. Emberly, Roman’s special guest, runs toward the side exit with a young waiter. Before I can react, I catch a glimpse of a still figure in the corner aiming a pistol.
In the split second I take to identify him as a threat, I’ve already shot him through the eyes.
“Cesare,” Benito yells. “Don’t shoot into the crowd.”
I turn the gun into the crowd and fire at every fucker standing still or not moving in the right direction.
By the time I look around for Roman’s woman again, she’s already disappeared. Shit. Big brother is going to be pissed, but our lives are worth more than her ill-gotten fortune.
There’s a bottleneck at the doors, where the escaping guests are being funneled out by security. A gray-haired man in a purple tuxedo breaks out from the crowd. Since he reminds me of Tommy and Matty Galliano, I shoot him in the kneecap. When he clutches his wound without firing back, I finally allow Benito’s warning to register.
It should be me tending to our big brother.
“Cover my back,” I snarl at Benito with my eyes trained on the crowd. “Let me check on Roman.”
The asshole doesn’t move from Roman’s side. I can’t tell if it’s out of shock or if Benito thinks he’s better than me at first aid.
I don’t have time to ponder on that when another man in a tuxedo bursts out of the crowd with a gun. His first shot goes wide as he’s jostled, but I don’t give him a chance to fire a second. When a bullet lands in his neck, he falls backward and gets swallowed up by the throng.
“Cesare, will you stop fucking shooting?” Benito roars.
“Then you take over,” I yell over the chaos.