Page 23 of Breaking Rosalind

What the fuck did that woman do, and why? To make Leroi jealous? If she wanted a rebound fuck, all she needed to do was ask, but drugging me is a step too far.

I shove open the door and step into the air-conditioned pool house. Cool air hits my skin, and I inhale a deep breath to calm my churning stomach. I glance around for signs of the woman, but all I find is a single empty tumbler on the coffee table.

Is that how she administered the substance? There are dozens of less obvious ways to drug someone. Surely, I would have noticed something?

I pick up the glass and sniff, but it only smells of vodka. Not that it matters. Most date rape drugs are odorless. The sound of the shower coming from my bedroom makes me lumber inside. Earlier, when I wanted to hurl my guts, the bathroom was locked. Has she been in there the entire time?

My instincts tell me to wait and see what she does next. I stumble to the bed and lie back as though I’m still unconscious from the drug.

Eventually, the shower turns off, the door opens, and soft footsteps pad across the tiled floor. My pulse thuds in my eardrums, its beats heavy and sluggish.

Closing my eyes, I leave a thin line of vision to observe her moving into my periphery. She calls my name, but I remain still to reel her in.

The mattress dips as she climbs onto the bed, and there’s no spike in my heart rate, no surge of adrenaline. The drugs have dulled my reactions, but I’m aware of what’s happening.

She leans over me, filling my nostrils with the scent of sweet magnolia, and all I can think of is another woman who was equally treacherous. With the proficiency of a trained medic, Leroi’s stalker examines my pulse and pupil, confirming that she not only administered a drug, but one she expected would keep me incapacitated for a few more hours.

My blood boils, and my empty stomach roils with bitter rancor. What will she do next?

It takes every effort not to flinch when she brushes the hair off my face, and my breath catches when she kisses my forehead.

I study her through my lashes. The morning sun shines through her mahogany strands, coloring her flyaways a vibrant shade of burnt orange. I have no fucking clue why my mind focuses on her beauty, but when light glints on the tip of a needle, my hand shoots out to snatch her wrist.

NINE

ROSALIND

It took hours to scour the grounds, and I have the information the firm needs, but the sun is rising too quickly. Thank fuck the pool house backs onto woodland because that’s the only thing standing between me and getting caught.

I lie flat within the undergrowth, my heart pounding loud enough to drown out the woman’s screams. Every few minutes, an armed guard lumbers close enough to my hiding place to shoot the back of my head, but they’re all focused on the commotion.

My phone’s reception up here is spotty at best, and these files are taking an eternity to upload. Gunther keeps sending me texts, requiring more footage, more pictures, more ways to penetrate the Montesano stronghold.

At times like this, I wish I had entered a less nerve-wracking profession, like venom-milking, landmine-removing, or stunts. But without the Moirai’s resources or training, I’d never have been able to take back Miranda. She makes the bullshit I endure worthwhile.

I told Gunther I was here with Leroi because I wasn’t authorized to approach Cesare, but the OPA isn’t infallible. A small percentage of people are resistant to the drug and can wake up after a few hours without the antidote.

Gunther knows that some people who ingest it inhale their own vomit and choke, but that’s a risk he’s willing to take because it’s a natural death.

Eventually, the screaming stops, and the small crowd at the side of the house disperses. Most of the men saunter in the direction of the driveway, where I’m sure there’s some other spectacle.

My phone’s progress bar has been stuck at 92% for what feels like an hour. I could leave the handset here to continue uploading, but I still haven’t paid off the firm for all the equipment I destroyed the time I took Miranda.

“Hurry the fuck up,” I whisper to my phone.

Sunlight filters through the thick canopy and warms my back, making me break out into a sweat. It was dark when I put Cesare to bed, and dark when I prowled around the mansion, recording all the doors, windows, and vulnerabilities.

The sun was barely rising when I walked around the grounds, taking in the electrified and barbed wire fencing that top the estate’s tall walls. Now all that hard work is about to be ruined because the cellphone towers can’t quite reach the summit of Alderney Hill.

I crawl on my belly toward the back of the pool house, hoping the connection there is better. An ultra-rich mafia household should be able to arrange a reliable connection, right?

My phone buzzes with a message from Gunther.

Files received. Permission granted to return to Leroi and administer the antidote.

Finally!

I text back about Cesare: