Page 250 of Breaking Rosalind
She falls silent for a moment as she follows my instructions and then adds, “We should probably swap vehicles. If Tommaso realizes Matteo is trying to do the swap, he’ll follow us with a small army.”
“Let him,” I snarl.
“Are you sure?”
“We crossed state borders ten minutes ago, and we’re twenty minutes away from the marina. If he’s dumb enough to invade New Alderney, then he’ll start a war he can’t win.”
Matteo groans again. “Tommaso will come. He loves his brother.”
Rosalind punches him in the throat. “He’d better hurry then, before I drown your bloated body in the Atlantic.”
“Please,” he wheezes.
Satisfaction burns through my chest at the sound of her fists landing on his flesh. I want to keep him alive so he can suffer for every innocent life he ruined. Matteo coughs, gasping for air, but remains silent for the rest of the journey.
My phone rings.
“It’s Benito,” Rosalind says.
“Put him on speakerphone,” I reply.
“What’s this about?” my brother asks, his voice tense. “Where have you been?”
“New Jersey. We got a lead on Matty Galliano’s location, but it was an ambush.”
“And you escaped?” Benito asks. “Are you injured?”
“Just a few cuts and bruises,” I mutter, my insides twisting with dread. “Where’s Roman?”
“Missing. He left the house with Emberly and hasn’t returned,” Benito mutters. “We also tracked Dad’s Mercedes to a scrapyard.”
I hoped my message would reach Gil or Roman, who act first in emergencies and ask annoying questions after the bodies have cooled. Benito won’t make a move until he’s nitpicked every detail and analyzed every possible outcome.
Tommy Galliano said something a few days ago in the hospital, but so much was happening that it slipped my mind. I glance at Rosalind through the rearview mirror. “Wake him up and see if he knows.”
“Who are you with?” Benito asks.
I give him a sketchy outline of the situation with Rosalind’s boss from the Moirai while she revives Matteo with a flurry of backhanded punches. The old bastard croaks out something about Emberly having left Roman tied to a bondage table in a BDSM hotel, leaving Benito to bark a stream of orders.
“Hey,” I snap. “I’m ten minutes from the marina. What about my backup?”
“What’s so urgent at the marina? Galliano belongs in the basement,” Benito says.
My jaw clenches. He won’t accept any bullshit answer. If I’m going to get the men I need, then I have to tell him the truth.
“The Moirai has my little sister,” I say.
Benito snorts. “We don’t have a sister.”
“Did you ever wonder why Matty Galliano targeted me and not you or Roman?” I ask. When he doesn’t answer, I continue. “When Mom deserted us to marry Tommy Galliano, she left me a note, saying that Enzo wasn’t my father.”
Benito’s silence is suffocating, but the fear of rejection pales compared to risking Miranda’s life. Every passing second feels like an eternity, each breath a struggle as I wait for him to respond.
“What are you saying?” Benito asks, his voice cold.
“Matty’s been reaching out to me since his kids died in the Capello massacre.”
“I thought you said the daughter died.”