Page 128 of Breaking Rosalind
Every encounter with Galliano leaves me unsettled. That last one has me unhinged. He all but threatened Miranda. I had to fly her to a different airport and then drive around town to make sure we weren’t being followed before I sent her back to school.
Galliano didn’t get a good enough look at her, but I couldn’t take any chances. Until that asshole is dead, I’ll have to meet her in secret.
One thing’s for sure. I need to change tactics with my pet. And that starts with focusing my aggression on any bastard who’s enjoyed her tight little cunt.
My fingers tighten on the hair tourniquet I wrapped around the root of that blond bastard’s cock. These things are rare and usually take hours to cut off circulation and days to erode tissue.
Since I don’t have the luxury of time, I position my body to block Rosalind’s view and accelerate the process with a strand of cheese wire.
Blondie convulses, presumably because he knows he’s about to be separated from his cock. I pull the tourniquet taut around his shaft, letting the cheese wire sink into his flesh.
Stepping back, I keep my gaze fixed on Rosalind, who stares ahead as though unmoved. Of course, she’s unaffected. She’s a cold-hearted witch who murdered her parents in front of her baby sister.
Warm liquid drips on my fingers, and the room fills with the metallic scent of his blood. I pull tighter, feeling his body shudder violently beneath my grip.
Muffled cries echo off the walls, filling the chamber with the mingled sounds of despair. The other assassins probably expect to be next in line for the removal of body parts. I can’t even revel in their fear because all my attention is on Rosalind’s glower.
“Look at what you’ve brought upon your boyfriend,” I say. “This is the price for your betrayal.”
She breathes hard, seeming affronted at the accusation.
This is taking too long. His cock is still hanging by twisted strands of flesh. Tired of waiting for the tourniquet. I pull out Lucrezia from the back of my pocket and slice her blade through Blondie’s shaft.
I hold the appendage high, reveling in the assassins’ muffled cries. Rosalind’s gaze doesn’t waver, and she only sucks in a breath. No shrieks, no tears, no grief.
I advance on her, my fingers tightening around Blondie’s shaft. Every instinct screams at me to shake her until her teeth rattle, wring her neck, and squeeze out the information I need, starting with the reason she lied.
Rosalind convinced us we were safe from the Moirai. That’s the entire reason my brothers arranged the welcome-back party, only for her to summon her minions to kill Roman.
When I drop the severed appendage on her lap, she doesn’t even flinch.
“Ready to talk, pet?” I ask, still out of breath from a burst of adrenaline.
She glares at me, still defiant.
I unravel the rest of the bandages around her head and unbuckle the gag, leaving it to fall onto her lap. She splutters and coughs, breathing hard in sympathy for her fallen man.
“Why are you doing this?” she asks, her voice hoarse.
“Thirsty, pet?”
When she doesn’t answer, I walk to the table at the back of the room and pick up a bottle of water. After cracking it open, I return to give her a few sips. My gaze wanders to the saline IV I inserted to keep her hydrated during my out-of-town trip. Dr. Brunelli would have come in a few times to keep her and the others topped up, but her bag is now empty because of the detour.
I stroke her hair as she finishes the water, lean into her and whisper into her ear, “How can something so beautiful be so treacherous?”
“Take me away from here,” she whispers back.
I draw back with a frown. “Are you ashamed to be seen with me, pet?”
Her lips tighten, which I take as a yes.
“What’s wrong?” I snap. “Still pining for that cockless bastard?”
She jerks her head to the side.
Fuck this.
With a swift kick, I release the lock on the chair’s wheel lock and push her and Blondie’s severed penis out of the room and into the darkened hallway. The door swings shut, and groans resound from the chamber as the lack of movement encases the other assassins in the dark.