Page 193 of Breaking Rosalind
“Dr. Daniel?”
It’s the Moirai’s Chief Medical Officer. He’s sporting a new goatee and a deep tan from his recent vacation, but I would recognize that square jaw and gray buzz cut anywhere.
The older man flashes me a smirk.
I reach for something, anything, to use as a weapon, but my arms drop to my sides, and I collapse to my knees.
The woman behind the counter gasps. “Are you alright?”
Dr. Daniel rushes to my side and grabs my arm. “It’s alright,” he says, his voice exuding authority. “I’m a doctor.”
My mouth opens in a scream, but the drug has already taken effect. The room spins and distorts with the colors of the cafe warping into a kaleidoscope of bizarre shapes.
“Should I call 911?” the woman asks, and she sounds so far away.
“No need.” The doctor picks me up and scoops me into his arms. “I’ll take the young lady to my car and administer first aid.”
“B-But can’t you do it here?” she asks.
My heart thunders, a booming echo between my ears, drowning out the doctor’s reply. I feel him moving at a steady pace, then the movement of his arm as he opens a door, and steps out into a world that has lost all familiarity.
The shopping mall has transformed into a surreal landscape of squares that bend back and forth like palm trees in sync with my quickening pulse.
My eyes roll back as I struggle to focus on the immediate threat. I’ve been captured by the Moirai. More specifically, by its Chief Medical Officer, who is technically support staff.
But why?
As far as everyone knows, I’m a hostage, like all the others who infiltrated Roman’s party. The only person connected to the firm who knows I’m cooperating with the Montesano brothers is Britt, and she’s already left the country.
Dr. Daniel breaks into a run that makes my stomach lurch. His arms tighten around my body as he weaves through the disturbing landscape and down what feels like a stairwell.
Nausea grips me by the throat, making me gag. I flap like a rag doll in his arms, my limbs loose and unresponsive. He’s combined a muscle relaxant with a hallucinogen to keep me helpless. But for what?
“None of that,” he says, his tone admonishing. “Bear with me until we reach the ambulance, and I’ll give you an antidote.”
Out of spite, I retch against his shirt. The doctor grunts his displeasure but doesn’t break stride and continues descending to what looks like an abyss.
Another door opens, followed by another, and he flings me on to a hard surface. My arms splay outward, only to be shoved back to my side by the rise of cold metal railings.
I glance around, unable to make sense of my surroundings. It’s a confined space with walls that curl in to form the ceiling of a cocoon. The harsh, sterile scent of hospital-grade disinfectant burns my nostrils as I force in measured breaths, fighting the urge to panic.
The beeps of machinery remind me so much of the room Cesare held me captive, but that’s impossible. We must be in some kind of vehicle.
“Do you know how elated I was to see you leave the Montesano stronghold?” He snaps a belt around my chest. “When you didn’t return straight to HQ, I became concerned.”
Panic flares in my chest, and my breath quickens. How would he know my movements?
He fastens another restraint around my waist. “The only reason I didn’t report your whereabouts was because of our agreement.”
My mind goes blank, and I scramble to understand what he means. I know better than to bargain with my superiors in the Moirai. They’re all liars…
“Aah,” he says, his voice lifting with amusement. “Now, do you remember offering me your submission in exchange for signing your medical release?”
Disgust rolls in my gut as I recall my desperation to leave the Moirai. Cesare had taken Miranda and made me think he would tear her head open with a reverse bear trap.
The doctor’s hot fingers trace the contours of my face, infusing my flesh with ripples of revulsion. I would squirm under his touch, but the drugs in my system make it impossible to move.
Another needle pierces my skin, and cold liquid flows into my veins like ice. It’s a terrifying contrast to the feverish heat of the digits sliding down my neck.