Page 226 of Breaking Rosalind
And she’s all mine.
But is she? Destroying the Moirai HQ has just bought her freedom. It’s what we promised the evening she swung a metal pole at my head when she thought I molested her daughter.
Shit. Tonight, we’re going to kill Matty Galliano and then go after his brother. After that, our bargain will be complete. I need to do something, say something, be someone worthy of her love before she walks out of my life.
Cursing, Carlo accelerates, reversing at breakneck speed. Rosalind pulls away from the kiss as the rumbling turns to a deafening roar.
“What’s happening?” Roman asks from the seat opposite.
“Looks like the tunnels and sewers connecting HQ to the rest of the city are also collapsing,” she says with a grimace. “The blast must have been stronger than I calculated.”
“Thank fuck the Moirai chose such a remote location for their headquarters,” Roman mutters.
I turn Rosalind’s head back to mine. “Ignore my brother. He’s only sore because he couldn’t handle the Moirai without your help.”
The truck swerves sharply to the left, jerking us sideways. Roman grunts as he slams into the wall, but Rosalind barely flinches. Her eyes are locked on mine with an intensity that makes my heart pound.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
My eyes widen. “What for?”
“For the lab, the money we needed to pay Xero, the bombs, the men, and for listening. We’re finally free.”
She gazes down at me, her eyes softening. The golden flecks in their hazel irises shimmering in the truck’s dim light.
Cradling her cheek, I run the pad of my thumb across her cheekbone. I’m being a selfish prick. All this time, I’ve been thinking about what destroying the Moirai meant to me: an exciting adventure, my brothers’ respect, the absence of being gunned down by assassins. Hell, I even lamented about losing Rosalind.
I’d forgotten those Moirai bastards took her in when she was no older than Miranda and wouldn’t let her leave. And when she displeased her overlords, they signed her life over to a sick fuck who planned on raping her before cutting her up into pieces.
It’s obvious, even to me, that I don’t deserve Rosalind.
Nobody does. Not even Leroi.
“I’d do it all again,” I say, my voice rough. “Anything for my girls.”
She reaches around my neck, her slender fingers twining in my hair as she pulls me closer. Her lips press against mine in a soft kiss, which I return with vigor. She kisses back, this time with a fierce intensity floods my cock with sensation.
The truck jolts again, but neither of us flinches. She digs her fingernails into my skin, detonating explosions of pleasure. The world falls away, the sound of the truck engine and Carlo’s curses fading into nothingness. All that matters at this moment is Rosalind.
Roman harrumphs. “Could you wait until we’re not trying to escape an earthquake?”
Breaking the kiss, I mutter, “Don’t like it, don’t watch. Without Rosalind, we’d be running around like headless chickens. She deserves a reward.”
She snorts.
Adjusting her on my lap, I press kisses on her exposed neck, and murmur into her skin, “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“I swear to god, if this turns into some exhibitionism kink, I’m throwing you both out on the street,” Roman mutters.
“You wouldn’t dare. We owe her our fucking lives.” I turn my attention back to Rosalind. “Take no notice of that asshole. He’s just jealous because he can’t get a sexy assassin.”
Rosalind chuckles against my lips, the sound injecting my heart with endorphins. This is the second time I’ve ever made her laugh.
The earth stops moving, or maybe it’s because I’m too absorbed in Rosalind to notice anything else. We continue kissing until Roman’s hand lands on my shoulder.
“Good work,” he says with a broad smile. With a nod toward Rosalind, he adds, “Family dinner tonight. It’s going to be a big celebration.”
“We have other plans,” I reply.