Page 51 of Breaking Rosalind
Now, more than ever, I resent the maze of hallways that make up our headquarters. I pick up my phone and check it for messages from Cesare, but there’s nothing.
I try not to think of what that could mean. Try not to picture my precious little Miranda tied to a bondage chair and subjected to the worst kind of torture, but it’s impossible. Cold-blooded men don’t care about the virtue of innocent girls. I was eleven when Matteo married Mom and started making advances.
Memories of everything Cesare did to me rise to the surface, making me shiver. I sold myself to the Moira for the strength to protect Miranda. Now, she’s in unimaginable danger. How the hell will she cope with such horrific trauma?
“Rosalind?”
Britt jogs to my side. “What happened to dinner? You were supposed to text when you finished with Gunther.”
“The Montesanos have Miranda,” I reply, my voice low.
Her features drop. “You sure?”
“Cesare sent photos.” I hand her my phone.
Without breaking her stride, Britt scrolls through the pictures, her breath catching. “What are we going to do?”
We.
My heart fills to bursting. Britt is the only person who stuck by my side during my decade of probation, even to her own detriment. This is why I love her so much. She’s ready to sacrifice her reputation on another rogue mission to save Miranda.
“He wants me back, so I’ll do the swap.”
She nods. “I’ll be on a rooftop with a sniper?—”
“No.” I grab her arm. “The client was very specific. He wants all three Montesano brothers killed at the same time, or he won’t pay.”
“But this is Miranda,” she says in a much lower voice.
“If Gunther put me in ten years of purgatory for the misuse of company assets, what do you think he’ll do if we screw up a paying mission?”
She stays silent because we both know the answer. It won’t be just Gunther on our backs, but the entire group’s leadership, including international HQ. They won’t just kill us slowly, they’ll take Miranda.
As we approach the exit, the guards from earlier straighten, expecting more trouble. Their leader’s gaze drops to my wrist cuff, which would have been removed if Dr. Daniel had an ounce of integrity and wasn’t such a creep.
When the cuff doesn’t set off the alarm, the guards let us out into the bank of elevators that lead to the ground level.
Britt bows her head during the ride up. She’s probably thinking of a way to rescue Miranda without killing Cesare or getting me captured.
I stare at her profile, my throat tightening. “Don’t.”
“What?” she asks.
“Whatever you’re thinking won’t work because it’s not the same as last time. Last time, we had the element of surprise. Cesare knows I’m coming, and he suspects I won’t arrive without backup.”
“But we can still?—”
“No.” My voice is firm. “We are not taking any chances with Miranda.”
Britt looks away, her lips pursed.
“Britt?”
“Fine. I won’t touch Cesare,” she says with a weary sigh.
“But you’ll be at the other side of the alley, ready to grab Miranda, bundle her into a vehicle, and speed her to a safe location.”
“And leave you behind,” she says, her voice flat.