Page 135 of Breaking Rosalind

Without another word, our eldest brother strides down the path that leads to the pool house, leaving Benito and me staring at his back.

Silence stretches out across Dad’s former study, broken only by another of Sofia’s happy sighs. She gives my arm a gentle squeeze before padding out of the room and closing the door with a soft click.

“I’m glad he’s out of prison, but must he be so fixated with that woman?” Benito mutters from my side.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be locked up,” I murmur, my gaze still fixed on Roman.

My brother turns to stare at the side of my face. “Do you still resent me for making you go cold turkey?”

“No,” I reply, my voice tight. “Roman spent all that time on death row, getting his appeals rejected and never knowing if he would escape the electric chair. Who are we to judge if he needs time to toy with that woman before snuffing out her life?”

“You might have a point,” Benito mumbles.

My brows rise. “What was that?”

“You heard me,” he mutters.

Looking him full in the face, I wait for him to repeat himself, but he huffs. “Focus your attention on Leroi’s woman. Find her weakness and go deep.”

I bristle. “She’s my woman, not Leroi’s, and that’s easier said than done.”

“What? You still can’t find what makes a woman tick after fucking your entire female staff?”

“If you knew anything about the fairer sex, you’d understand they’re more complicated and twice as treacherous than men.”

He walks to the door. “If you can’t break her, I can call Leroi.”

“Who failed to notice he was fucking another assassin?” I snap. “That barb is growing tired, just like the torch you’re carrying for Ginevra DiMarco. Move on, accept that she ditched you for Samson Capello, and maybe you’ll stop being so bitter.”

Benito pauses at the doorway. “You have forty-eight hours to crack Rosalind open before I unwrap her and drag out her secrets.”

My stomach drops. Rosalind is mine. Nobody hurts her except me.

“Brother or not, touch her and you die,” I snarl.

Scoffing, he disappears in the hallway, leaving me fuming. Benito won’t be gentle, like me. He’s so out of practice and holds so much resentment toward women that he’s likely to damage my Rosalind beyond repair.

Roman and Leroi would forgive me if I broke Benito’s fingers, but they wouldn’t if they knew I had Galliano blood.

As his footsteps recede, I resolve to protect Rosalind from a creep like Benito while changing my tactics. Before the deadline is up, I will squeeze out every one of her secrets.

FIFTY-THREE

ROSALIND

I wake up with a jolt that hurls my heartbeat up to the state of panic. Rough hands pull at my bandages, leaving the coverings around my head.

A scream rips through my throat, but it’s muffled by the gag. I thrash in the dark, but my limbs are held down by tight bands

This isn’t Cesare’s gentle touch. This man is angry, anxious, agitated. What the hell have the other assassins said about me?

My empty stomach churns, and my skin breaks out in a cold sweat. What if this isn’t even Cesare? Cesare always frees my head first, never my body.

Cool metal slides against my flesh as I’m cut free, making it tighten into goosebumps. The man frees my arm and I lash out, hitting something hard.

He shoves me down onto the hard surface. I jerk my legs, but they’re still held down by straps. When I curl my fingers, each digit feels encased in plaster.

The bandages around my head finally loosen, and he rips off the ear coverings, plunging me back into the world of sound.