Page 158 of Breaking Rosalind
“It doesn’t,” Rosalind says from between clenched teeth. “Let’s discuss this after eighteen months.”
I turn to Miranda with my most crestfallen face and shrug. “Well, the lady has spoken. Looks like you’ll have to wait a little longer before you can call me big brother.”
Miranda’s features tighten. “Why are you refusing Cesare? Is it because he’s in the mafia?”
Rosalind’s head snaps to the side, her eyes sharpening with accusation. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing,” I say.
“I looked up the Phoenix online. It wasn’t too difficult to work out that you were dating someone in the mafia.” Miranda curls her hands into fists, her pretty features hardening with determination.
Rosalind gulps at her daughter’s outburst, and her facade falters enough for me to catch a flicker of fear. The nails digging into my skin pierce deeper, sending a clear warning to back off. As I lift our joined hands, Rosalind releases her grip.
“I don’t care what he does, Rosa. Cesare saved me from getting assaulted, and he doesn’t deserve your coldness.”
Rosalind’s face drops. “What happened? Who assaulted you?”
“I chased off the little bastard,” I reply.
“You scared the shit out of him,” Miranda says with a broad smile, her eyes shining with admiration. “When I got back to the academy, he left a letter under my door, begging for my forgiveness.”
Rosalind turns to look at me, her features pained. I know what she’s thinking. One good deed doesn’t erase days of torture, but she started it by seducing me under false pretenses, not to mention the attempted murder.
“Can’t you see that Cesare is your perfect match?” Miranda asks, her voice straining.
“There are things you don’t understand,” Rosalind replies through clenched teeth.
“Like what?” Miranda snaps. “Don’t act like you’re too good for Cesare when you’re a killer.”
Rosalind stiffens.
Even I flinch at the harshness of her delivery.
“Miranda,” I say, but the little girl continues.
“You killed Mom and Dad, took me away from the only home I’d ever known, and then locked me away at a crappy boarding school. Sometimes, you go weeks and months without visiting and the moment you get a boyfriend who could make us a happy family, you push him away.”
Rosalind closes her eyes, her head bowing. “I’m sorry you saw that.”
“But not sorry you killed our parents?” Miranda screams. “Not sorry for giving me nightmares for watching them die?”
My brows pull together. I nudge Rosalind, urging her to explain why she murdered her family, but she doesn’t speak. I would have shut the fuck up if I’d predicted this marriage proposal would open Miranda’s wounds.
“Don’t be too hard on Rosalind,” I say, “There’s more to her story?—”
“Drop it,” Rosalind snaps.
“Drop what?” Miranda gazes at me from the other seat, her eyes glistening with tears. “Do you know why she did it?”
I grimace, wishing I’d keep my mouth shut. The last thing I wanted was to traumatize Miranda. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“Why do you get to know, and I don’t?” Her voice breaks.
“Miri, it’s complicated,” Rosalind says.
As my gaze bounces from mother to daughter, I can’t help thinking about how I discovered the truth about my own parentage.
It was the week Dad had died in the Phoenix of that mysterious heart attack, and I left medical school to be with the family. Mom’s reaction to his death had been subdued, even for her. When Gil told Roman that Dad had been with some blonde at the time of his death, she didn’t even flinch.