Page 247 of Breaking Rosalind
An hour passes, and I force my mind not to drift. Not when I’m so close to the creature who has haunted my nightmares for years—my primal fear brought to life. Matteo is the poison who seeped through my skin when I was at the most vulnerable, and burned through my innocence like acid.
“You look comfortable over there, Rosalind.” His voice cuts through my concentration like razor blades.
I keep my eyes closed and my face impassive, even though my palms break out in a sweat. Most people think Tommaso is the dangerous brother because he’s the most volatile, but Tommaso is only the predator you see coming.
It’s Matteo that’s the snake.
“I loved you with all my heart,” he says, his voice breaking, “Yet you stole into my home, killed my wife, abducted my daughter, and left me with second and third-degree burns.”
My pulse quickens. Matteo always had a way of making himself sound like a martyr.
“I was in that fucking hospital for two hundred and seventy-six days, not knowing if my sweet Miriam had survived the abduction.”
Hot fury flushes through my veins. Did he think I had killed her out of spite?
“Boss,” Nino says. “Take it easy. You only got discharged today.”
“Yeah, don’t strain yourself,” Gio adds.
“You’re right,” Matteo says, his breaths ragged. “But you don’t know how badly this ungrateful bitch hurt my family. Poor Tommaso and I are on opiates because of her explosives.”
My jaw clenches. That’s what happens to a man who gets a young girl pregnant, then hides her away while his wife walks around with silicone baby bumps, then forces the young girl to sign over adoption papers, before dispatching her to boarding schools haunted by different kinds of predators.
What I thought were self-defense classes were the recruitment grounds for the Moirai. Thanks to my mother and Matteo insisting that I spend the holidays at school, I became a prime candidate for a man like Gunther.
“You want us to teach her a lesson?” Nino asks, his voice breathy with excitement.
I hold my breath as Matteo falls silent.
“She belongs to my son,” he mutters, as though weighing whether revenge is worth jeopardizing his newfound relationship. “Cesare doesn’t want her hurt.”
“How will he know when he’s driving?” Nino asks.
“And she’s still too high on Benzo to tell him,” Gio mutters.
The lining of my stomach trembles, and my throat clogs with disgust. I’ve been through worse scrapes while gathering information for the Moirai, but this one comes with a heap of traumatic baggage.
“Aren’t you curious, boss?” Nino asks.
Matteo scoffs. “She’s no longer my type. But if you want her so much, be my guest.”
Nino’s lecherous snicker makes my flesh crawl, and my bloodstream surges with adrenaline. He rocks forward, rubbing his palms. His broad shoulders quake with excitement, making the light dance on his bald patch.
My gaze drops to his oversized hands and forearms, then travels over his huge bulk, which is barely restrained by his black suit. He’s burly, carrying equal amounts of muscle and fat. He’ll be insanely heavy and equally strong and will likely lack speed.
Every muscle attached to my bones tightens in anticipation of the fight to come, and I take another sweep of the back seat.
Gio leans back in his seat with his legs spread. The erection poking through his pants tells me he’s waiting patiently for the show and will take his turn with me after Nino has completed.
Matteo sits immobile, still weakened and drugged from getting attacked by us post-surgery.
This won’t be the first time I’ve taken out three men, so I know what to expect. Last time, I wasn’t coming down from a cocktail of narcotics, but Miranda’s life is on the line, as is Cesare’s safety. I need to move fast, shoot true, and not give these fuckers the chance to fire.
“You just going to sit there all night with your tongue hanging out?” Gio asks from his seat.
Matteo snorts. “Don’t leave bruises.”
I force down a long, slow breath, and make my chest expand to crush a surge of nerves.