Page 153 of Breaking Rosalind
Leaning against the wall, I watch my girls interact. Rosalind tries to give her daughter a hug, but Miranda shrinks away from her touch.
My brows pinch. Miranda finds Rosalind repellent because she thinks she abducted her. In her mind, her older sister killed her parents and then locked her away at a boarding school. From the way Rosalind’s shoulders sag, I’m certain she’s hurt by the constant rejection.
I drop my gaze to my bare feet and grimace, unable to shake off the regret at the part I played in damaging their relationship.
Rosalind needs to tell Miranda the truth.
Miranda needs to know she has a mother who loves her desperately. A mother who sold her soul to the Moirai and even sacrificed herself at the first sign of danger.
Guilt grips my throat and squeezes tight as I remember Rosalind’s attempts to bargain. She wanted help to safeguard Miranda and leave the Moirai. I laughed, not appreciating how betraying her firm would put her daughter in danger.
“Who was he?” Rosalind says, her voice rough.
My head snaps up, and I meet Rosalind’s fiery gaze. “Who was who?”
“The man at the airport,” she says through gritted teeth. “The man you felt so strongly about that you scaled up the academy wall and stole my sister in the dead of night.”
A chill creeps up my spine as I remember her sitting through the part of dinner where I laid out exactly how Matty Galliano was butchering women to make me look like a murder.
“He’s…” The words stick in my throat, and I cough, trying to think up a way to soften the blow. “Can we talk about this outside?”
Rosalind’s eyes narrow, and she gives me a terse nod. “Fine.”
I turn to Miranda and smile. “Get dressed, love. We’re going down for breakfast in an hour.”
When Miranda beams, it takes every effort not to look at Rosalind’s reaction. Everything I know about Miranda tells me she doesn’t offer Rosalind many of her genuine smiles.
Dread mounts as we step out into the hallway and walk out of earshot. Galliano’s relentless attempts to estrange me from my family are now putting an innocent girl at risk. That bastard needs to die. His brother too.
“Who saw her at the airport?” Rosalind asks.
“Matty Galliano, but only for a second,” I mutter.
She curls her fingers into the lapels of my pajama jacket and slams me against the wall. “We’re leaving on the first flight out of town.”
Indignation rears to the surface, making me flash my teeth, refusing to let Rosalind’s behavior go unchecked. She may think being Miranda’s mother gives her the upper hand, but she’s still my prisoner, still my little plaything.
The only thing holding me back from breaking her spirit is the thought of the sound carrying down the hallway and reaching Miranda.
“Watch your mouth, pet,” I snarl. “You’re about to get punished.”
“Really?” a male voice drawls.
Benito strides out of his room, dressed in a navy pinstripe suit. We must have startled him with our spat because he’s forgotten to wear the prescription-free glasses he thinks makes him look respectable.
“It’s bad enough that you dredge her up from the basement and bring to the dinner table. Now, you’re dressing her in your monogrammed pajamas and allowing her to sass you in our living space?”
My lip curls. “I’ve just made an important breakthrough on the Moirai.”
Benito’s gaze flickers toward Rosalind, with a gleam in his eyes that suggests he wants to take over the mission assigned to me and unleash a fresh round of interrogation.
Over my twitching corpse.
He doesn’t get to muscle in on my romance with Rosalind or take over my friendship with Miranda. I won’t allow him to swoop in, claim the glory, and have Roman congratulate him for taking down the Moirai.
I step between them to block his view.
“Don’t you have a casino to run?” I ask. “Or a croupier to stalk?”