Page 238 of Breaking Rosalind
“Where have you been?” he grinds out. “Have you seen Roman?”
Whatever Cesare is about to say is cut off as someone on the other side of the room retches. The sound feels like cockroaches skittering across my skin, their skin legs trying to invade my throat. Judging by the cacophony of concerned shouts and stampeding feet, I can only assume that Matteo is reacting badly to all the excitement.
Good. I hope he dies.
“Call the doctor,” Tommaso roars.
“What about Cesare, Dad?” asks a voice.
“Take him and Rosalind to the special guest room,” Tommaso says.
The men holding my shoulders shove me forward, and I fall into familiar arms.
“I’ve got you,” Cesare murmurs into my ear, his voice carrying no judgment for all the terrible things I endured with Matteo. “No matter what, I’ll keep you and Miranda safe.”
My heart swells, and my conciseness gives way to an overwhelming sense of bliss. When Cesare scoops me up into his arms and lays my head against his chest, I believe he’ll do everything in his power to protect Miranda and me.
I part my lips to tell him to focus on helping Miranda, but my mouth won’t form the words.
The sounds of chaos blend together and fade into the background like a thunderstorm. I’m still struggling against the effect of the drug when the phone in the back of my denim skirt buzzes.
“What’s that?” says a rough voice.
Large hands paw at my ass, forcing me back to awareness.
Cesare jerks to the side. “Don’t touch her.”
“Get real,” a male voice sneers. “No one wants Uncle Matty’s sloppy seconds.”
If I had control over my jaw, it would clench. This must be Tommaso’s son, Francesco, one of the few people who knew what his uncle was doing, but had the nerve to swear to my mother that I was the liar.
Jerking movements jostle me like a rag doll, even though he’s clutching me to his chest. “I told you not to insult Rosalind.”
“Got it!”
“Who’s calling her?” Tommaso yells from the other side of the room.
“Miranda,” says the snide voice.
Cesare stiffens, and my stomach drops. Matteo and Tommaso only know Miranda as Miriam, but it won’t take them long to realize the caller is my daughter.
“Put it on speakerphone,” Tommaso says, “And everyone shut the fuck up.”
My heart sinks as the room falls silent.
“Rosalind, it’s Gunther,” says a slimy voice that makes my stomach churn.
Cesare tenses, his chest falling still.
“I know you didn’t die in the explosion. I also know you’re not a Montesano hostage. Dr. Daniel told me they’re letting you run around, so I can only assume you’re responsible for the crater Roman Montesano made of HQ.”
Cesare’s pulse quickens, resounding in my ear like a drumroll. How the hell did Gunther survive the attack? He’s supposed to be dead, having watched the graduation run somewhere on the lower levels.
“Montesano’s antics got me demoted. Thanks to him, I was cast out of the senior management team and sent to handle the losers who failed to graduate. With them all dead, I’m now the highest-ranking member of the Moirai.” He releases a gleeful laugh.
“Who the fuck is that?” Tommaso asks.
“An incompetent bastard who needs to die,” Cesare mutters.