Page 197 of Breaking Rosalind

ROSALIND

I wake up with a gasp, feeling like I’ve run a marathon. My throat burns, my heart races, my muscles scream with fatigue. Sunlight burns through my eyelids, giving me an idea of the time. It must be around noon or early afternoon, which means I’ve been unconscious for over five hours.

My eyelids flutter, but they’re gummed shut. The last thing I remember was being abducted and under the influence of psychedelic drugs, followed by Dr. Daniel cutting through my clothes and?—

Pain slices through my chest, making me gasp. He captured Britt and ripped her body open with his sick experiments. Britt was supposed to have escaped the Moirai and left the country. She had an apartment in a suburb outside Geneva, ready for a new life overseas.

“Rosalind?” Cesare’s deep voice cuts through my thoughts.

When I open my eyes again, he hovers above me, clad in a white shirt. I guess his black one probably ruined when he held Dr. Daniel while I pummeled the shit out of his carcass.

We’re in a cream-colored room with windows lining its curved walls, providing a stomach-lurching view of the sea.

“Where are we?” I ask.

“The Bella Lucia,” he says. “My dad’s yacht.”

“Is there any way to close the curtains?”

He glances over his shoulder and turns back to me with a frown. “You don’t like the ocean?”

Suppressing a shudder, I focus all my attention on his face and reply. “It’s not my favorite view.”

Cesare straightens, reaches for a remote, and points it at the windows. A soft hum emanates from their direction, but I keep my gaze averted until the room is completely shaded.

He turns back to me, his eyes clouding with concern. “Want to talk about it?”

“Why I don’t like the sea?” I ask back. “No.”

“I’m asking about what happened this morning. Who is Dr. Daniel?”

“The Moirai’s Chief Medical Officer.”

He grimaces. “How the fuck did they find you?”

“With a tracker. Is he dead?”

“Alive,” he murmurs. “Barely. After stabilizing you, I called for a clean-up crew to take him to one of the cells in the basement. I thought he would be more useful alive than dead.”

I nod.

Grief seizes my lungs. “And Britt?”

“My cousins are taking care of her at Newtown Crematorium.”

Pain hollows out my chest and travels to the back of my throat, making my eyes burn with tears. I can’t believe she’s dead. My breath hitches. Pressing my lips together to suppress a sob, I nod.

“Hey,” he murmurs, his voice so soft it’s barely audible. “I’m sorry. She was a good friend who didn’t deserve such a terrible end.”

A hysterical laugh bursts from my lips. “What’s the difference between Dr. Daniel’s experiments and what you do to your enemies in the basement?”

Gritting my teeth, I brace myself for Cesare to grab me by the throat and hiss something defensive. We all justify the heinous shit we do, thinking it makes us better than the other monsters, yet nobody wants to see the reflection in the mirror.

Instead of lashing out, he sits at my bedside and stares at me for several heartbeats. I shift on the mattress, wondering if I’ve pushed him too far.

“What?” I ask.

“How do you feel?”