Page 242 of Breaking Rosalind
Tommaso ordered me injected with that drug because he doesn’t want me warning Cesare against cooperating with the Galliano family. I’ve been drifting in and out of consciousness, caught in a battle between scorching heat and chilling shivers. It’s as though my body can’t decide whether to burn or freeze.
My fever dreams are of Miranda at the Moirai academy, suffering through grueling regimes and torture training. Gunther stands over her trembling form, offering her a friendly hand. He’ll groom her the way he tried to groom me. He’ll offer her a shoulder to cry on and ply her with special privileges before making her sleep with older men.
I can’t allow that to happen.
“Rosalind.” Cesare’s voice pulls me out of my delirium. I try to open my eyes, but they’re too heavy.
“Rosalind,” he repeats, his voice steadier.
“Cesare?” I groan.
“That’s it, love. You need to fight to stay conscious.”
My chest is a raging furnace, and the air is so sweltering I can barely get oxygen in my lungs. Sweat coats my skin like a boiling shroud, searing heat into my bones.
“Too hot,” I rasp.
Cesare pulls off a sheet, letting in a gust of air that cools my skin. “You were going into hypothermia earlier. I did everything I could to keep you warm.”
“Miranda?”
“Tommy wants me to kill Roman and Benito,” he replies with a sigh. “And I’ve agreed.”
My eyes snap open. “What?”
We’re in a dim room, illuminated by a rectangular window near the ceiling, letting in dappled light through overgrown shrubs and foliage. It’s about the size of a small pantry and secured by a heavy door with keyholes at strategic points. That won’t stop me from trying to kick it open or ram it with my shoulder.
I try to rise off the bed, but Cesare pushes me down. I’ve never seen him look so serious.
“You need to rest,” he says. “They came in three hours ago and injected you with a strong sedative. If they hear you moving about, you’ll get another dose.”
His eyes are dark with worry, and his hair has come loose from its ponytail, framing his face with gentle waves. Stubble covers his jawline, making him appear much older than a man barely twenty-five. I’ve never seen him look so disturbed.
“We have to get out,” I manage to croak. “Miranda…”
A sob catches in my throat.
He pulls me into his chest. “The Galliano brothers won’t let anything happen to her.”
“Only because they want to be the ones who hurt her,” I sob.
His arms tighten around my back, but he offers no words of reassurance. Maybe Matteo came in earlier to gloat about what he planned on doing to my baby girl.
I’ve never felt so helpless. Not even when Cesare tied me to a cot and wrapped my body in bandages. I need to break down this drug, make sure they don’t inject me with any more doses, and find where Gunther has hidden Miranda.
“Are they in contact with Gunther?” I ask.
“Tommy still has your phone.”
“Then what am I still doing here? Gunther wants me. Tommaso needs to hand me over.”
Cesare releases the hug and lays me on the mattress. I stare up into his shadowed eyes.
“What?” I ask.
“Tommy doesn’t want Miranda in the house.”
“Why not?” Realization slaps me in the face. “Because of Matteo?”