Page 268 of Breaking Rosalind
“Thank you for saving me last night,” she says, her voice choked with emotion. “I used to think Rosa was exaggerating when she said the world was full of predators, but those men were the worst.”
Setting her to her feet, I cup her cheek. “You’ll never have to face anyone like that again. I’ll kill anyone who even looks at you funny.”
She blinks away tears. “Promise?”
“I swear on my life,” I say, meaning every word.
Her eyes soften. “I knew you would come for me,” she says, her voice breathy. “And I never realized how much Rosa loved me until now.”
“She’s not the only one, love.”
We hug again, before Sofia emerges from behind the door and leads Miranda down the hallway for breakfast. I stare after them, my heart bursting with love. At the same time, my stomach roils with dread.
Miranda’s affection for me was never in question, but Rosalind is another story. She’s never wanted to discuss our future, but now there’s no avoiding it.
I step into the room, my heart pounding, unsure if she’ll choose to stay or leave.
ONE HUNDRED SEVEN
ROSALIND
I sit up against the bed’s iron headrest, my ears straining to eavesdrop on Miranda’s conversation with Cesare. Sofia stands behind the door with a smile playing on her lips, which tells me it’s going well.
My little girl deserves the world.
Telling her the truth has been a burden off my chest. I now feel like we finally have a bond.
Miranda will probably still call me Rosa, but at least she knows that her mother didn’t die that terrible afternoon. She knows her real mother moved heaven and earth to make sure she never had to suffer the same type of abuse.
Cesare walks in, clad in monogrammed silk pajamas that cling to his athletic frame. The morning sun shines through the loose strands in his hair, making them glow amber.
My breath catches, and my pulse quickens the way it did when I was his captive. Only this time, that desperate need for his presence isn’t because of Stockholm syndrome or sensory deprivation or the result of a twisted power game.
This time, my excitement for him is fueled by emotions that have taken root deep within my heart—emotions I can no longer deny.
Knowing that he took time to speak with Miranda fills my heart until it overflows. She finally has a familial connection with another person I know can give her the love she needs and deserves.
He hesitates at the foot of the bed, his eyes searching for permission to approach. We didn’t get the chance to speak much last night. I was too busy comforting Miranda, and he worked for hours with Benito and the others to make sure Gunther didn’t have any more accomplices.
Based on a review of Gunther’s phone, it turns out he was working with Dr. Daniel to capture me. When our Chief Medical Officer stopped responding to his messages after we captured him, Gunther left HQ to retrace his steps and missed the bombing.
I reach out a hand and beckon Cesare forward, my heart skipping a beat when his expression relaxes, and his pale eyes glimmer with hope.
“Tell me something,” I say as he approaches my side.
He takes my hand and brings my knuckles to his lips. “Anything.”
“What made you think I couldn’t overcome my fear of water to save Miranda?”
Grimacing, he lowers himself onto the mattress, making it dip. “There was no point getting us both killed. Gunther wanted you dead. And I didn’t know if we would find a dingy or a submarine filled with assassins.”
“That’s why you revived Matteo from the brink of death?” I ask.
“He was expendable, and I couldn’t wait for Benito.” His gaze drops to our intertwined hands. “I went out there, not knowing if I was coming back. At least if I slowed you down, my brother would track my location and bring you back Miranda. She needed her mother.”
“And not her big brother?” I ask.
He smiles. “I always wanted a younger sibling to protect.”