Page 161 of Breaking Rosalind
When Mom signed me up for a boarding school, Matteo refused, wanting to keep me close. The only time he agreed to send me away was after the c-section, when I was no longer his type.
None of this matters because Cesare won’t live long enough to pose any kind of threat.
A stall door opens, and Britt walks out, making Miranda scowl. “I’m going to wait outside with Cesare.”
“Don’t.” I reach for her shoulder, but she shrugs me off and walks to the door.
“Let me get her.” Britt rushes toward Miranda
I grab her wrist. “Let her go.”
Britt scowls. “You’re not seriously going to leave her alone with that psychopath?”
“She’ll be safe for a few minutes,” I mutter, my gaze scanning my best friend’s thinner form. “Are you on medical leave?”
“Everyone’s slacking off while Dr. Daniel’s on vacation,” she replies with a shrug.
For the first time since leaving captivity, I smile. Not returning to the Moirai means not submitting to the medical procedures I promised Dr. Daniel in exchange for giving me clearance to rescue Miranda.
I pull Britt in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, but you can’t stay.”
“Is the rest of the team still alive?” she asks. “Gunther’s telling everyone they got demoted to the catacombs to supervise waste disposal.”
“Axel is dead, and the rest are still in a dungeon.” I pull back from the hug and place both hands on her shoulders. “Don’t return to HQ.”
“Something happening?” She cocks her head.
“The Montesano brothers are holding an entire team hostage, and all Gunther has given them in return is a ceasefire.”
Her lip curls with disgust. “The firm doesn’t give a shit.”
“Everyone is disposable,” I reply. “It’s time for that plan you had to leave and never return.”
“What will you do?”
“When Miranda is safe, I’ll take care of Cesare.”
SIXTY-THREE
CESARE
The last leg of our flight to Helsing Island is strained, and not just because of the turbulence. I don’t know what happened between Rosalind and Miranda in the restroom, but the tension between them hangs in the air like a noose.
The more time I spend with them, the more I feel like a piece of shit. Miranda isn’t just a replacement for the younger sibling I always wanted, and Rosalind isn’t just a beautiful and challenging little toy.
They’re people with complicated emotions and a strained connection. Their relationship was already fragile, and my interference only made it worse. Miranda’s resentment comes from her believing she’s an orphan being controlled by her callous abductor. The poor kid doesn’t realize she has a loving mother who sold her soul to keep her safe.
And I can’t believe Rosalind’s strength.
After everything I did to her, she’s still willing to work with me for the sake of her daughter. I know in the pit of my gut that this truce will end with a bullet through my head, which is why I need to convince her I’m more valuable to her alive.
I’m not just saying that out of self-preservation. There’s something about seeing a mother trying to protect her child that makes a bastard like me want to do better, be better.
The airport in Helsing Island is so drab and small that threats would stick out like flashing neon signs. That doesn’t stop Rosalind and me from walking through the terminal with our head swiveling for any hint of Galliano’s goons.
All we find are eco-tourists kitted out in mountain gear and parents escorting teenage kids. According to the posters adorning the terminal’s walls, we’re in some kind of nature reserve. The entire place is a paradise for hikers and birdwatchers.
By the time we step outside into the cool, damp air, the sun has already dipped behind a distant mountain, painting the sky with streaks of blood. This place feels a world away from Beaumont City.