Page 167 of Breaking Rosalind

My mind whirrs. What did she say to Cesare?

She pulls back and gazes up at me, her eyes shining and bright. “One day, when you’re ready, will you tell me why?”

My throat thickens. I part my lips but make no sound. How could I ever tell this beautiful little creature she’s the product of something so ugly? That for the entire time I was pregnant with her, I wanted to die? I don’t even have the words to begin.

“Take your time, Rosa.” She squeezes my arm and walks out of the room.

I turn to stare at her retreating back, wondering when on earth she became so mature or so compassionate. She didn’t inherit that personality trait from her father and sure as hell didn’t get it from me.

Maybe someone at Tourgis Academy taught her how to view the world in shades of gray, but I know that isn’t right. It’s Cesare and what he said to her at the boutique. I know he views me through a peculiar lens and sees a bunch of qualities that I lack. Thanks to his twisted obsession, she sees me as more than just her evil sister.

As she disappears through the door of her room, Cesare’s larger body presses into mine. He wraps his arms around my waist and presses his lips on my temple.

“You were beautiful, pet,” he murmurs into my hair. “All that raw emotion when you looked at her. One day, you’re going to be like that with me.”

My spine stiffens.

Every time I think Cesare Montesano might have a bone of humanity, he proves me wrong.

That asshole is only saying that because he wants me to take care of his boner.

SIXTY-SIX

CESARE

Seeing how desperately Rosalind clings to her daughter has restored my faith in women. Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes glisten with tears, and her beautiful features glow with rapture.

I want that unwavering love for myself, and I’m going to get it.

It’s only a matter of time.

I press my nose in Rosalind’s hair, inhaling the sweet scent of magnolia. It’s a flower I used to associate with maternal betrayal, but now it only reminds me of my pretty pet.

She stiffens in my embrace and adjusts her stance like she’s readying herself to toss me over her shoulder. I tighten my grip around her waist and anchor her weight to mine.

“What are you doing?” she hisses.

“Come to bed.” I grind my hard cock into her ass, enjoying her sharp intake of breath. It could be surprise, or maybe even a little anger, but I can almost guarantee she’s aroused.

“You’ve got some nerve,” she snaps, in a low whisper. “I’d rather sleep in the fireplace than share a bed with you.”

“I prefer your skin unmarked, but if that’s what it takes?—”

She slams an elbow into my ribs, knocking all the air from my lungs. Pain splinters across my chest, and my grip releases for the fraction of a second she needs to break free.

My nostrils flare. “Control yourself or I’ll keep you tethered.”

“Get fucked.” She turns on her heel and storms toward the closed door.

I follow her. “Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch.”

“How will you explain that to Miranda?” I place both palms on the door and cage her with my arms. “You heard her. She’s always wanted a big brother.”

Rosalind whirls around, her eyes flashing. “She doesn’t know you’re a psychopath.”

“I don’t know about that.”