Page 160 of Breaking Rosalind
“I already went earlier,” she says, her gaze darting to the door.
I pull her toward the bathroom sinks. “What happened between you and Cesare when I was gone?”
Her brows pull together. “What do you mean?”
“Do you remember what I taught you about grooming?”
She flinches, her features clouding with hurt. “Of course, but Cesare isn’t like that.”
“You’ve only met him twice,” I reply.
“He’s the best thing that ever happened to us, and you’re about to mess it up.”
“Explain.”
“He’s fun, and not an unfeeling robot. He’s generous and lets me eat whatever I want. He cares more about my happiness and isn’t obsessed with how I’m doing at school. When I’m with him, it’s like having a cool uncle or a protective big brother, but you’re like an overbearing headmistress.”
My jaw tightens. Cesare gets to enjoy the luxury of being carefree when he’s grown up with loving parents, older brothers, and protective bodyguards. His home is a fortress, and he has enough resources to handle the Moirai. He doesn’t lose sleep worrying about Miranda’s future when he can solve all his problems with money.
I inhale a deep breath and push down my frustration. Maybe he’s right and I need to tell her the truth, but I can’t traumatize her immediately before she starts a new school.
If she discovers I’m her mother, she’ll want to know her father. One quick search in google later, she’ll reach out to that sadistic bastard.
She isn’t yet mature enough to handle the truth. I pause for the woman exiting a stall to wash her hands and turn on the hairdryer before turning to face Miranda.
“If I’m unfeeling, it’s because I’ve had to make tough decisions. Decisions you’re not ready to understand.”
She raises her chin. “Cesare trusted me enough to tell me about the man hurting his friends.”
“Men like Cesare are dangerous.”
“And so are you,” she spits.
I wince, the barb sinking like a dagger because she’s right. “You need to understand that everything I’ve ever done was to keep you safe.”
“But not happy.” She folds her arms across her chest.
The hand dryer shuts off, plunging us both in silence. I watch the woman walk out of the bathroom before turning back to Miranda.
“The place I took you from wasn’t a safe environment,” I say, my voice tight. “I didn’t want you to grow up the same way I did.”
She rolls her eyes before glancing away. “That still doesn’t explain why you’d turn down someone as good for you as Cesare.”
Because he’s despicable. Because he’s toxic. Because he’s a terrible influence on my girl. Because he makes me confront a part of me that enjoys pain and degradation.
“Cesare might be fun, but he’s also reckless, and he’s not above using you as a pawn.”
She scoffs. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
My brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
“He only likes me because I’m your sister and that’s okay. He’s completely obsessed with you.”
I grimace. He’s obsessed with keeping me as a plaything. He’s obsessed with my threshold for pain. He’s obsessed with breaking through my calm exterior and watching me squirm.
“And he’s not a groomer,” she adds. “Groomers try to convince their victims that they’re special or something. Cesare always steers the conversation to you. He isn’t even remotely interested in me.”
Maybe she has a point. Cesare had suggested homeschooling Miranda, but he didn’t object when I wanted to send her to Helsing Island. That’s the opposite of what happened to me.