Page 75 of Breaking Rosalind
Panic lances through my heart when he places his palm on the biometric reader and disappears behind the door. All the effort I spent protecting her from predators has only brought us under the control of an even greater monster.
Matteo never stuck a gun in my vagina and pulled the trigger, yet Cesare would have done worse if I hadn’t escaped.
What the hell is he doing to my daughter?
TWENTY-NINE
CESARE
I walk into the hallway, leaving Rosalind to stew. She thinks I’ve corrupted her baby sister. Maybe I went too far, letting the girl watch that gory movie, but I made sure to cover her eyes when the scenes got too graphic.
The little feast I gave her was probably the first time she could eat whatever she wanted, and I made sure the chefs used the best ingredients. Wagyu beef, organic vegetables, and freshly prepared desserts. Only the finest for the little sister of my pet.
Rosalind belongs to me. By extension, so does Miranda. Except I plan to be the protective older sibling she never had. That starts with bringing her back to New Alderney to complete her education.
“Can you talk sense into my sister?”
“What’s up?” I ask.
“I wasn’t exaggerating when I said Britt left me alone in an apartment.”
“Where is it?”
She hesitates. “I can check the map app.”
“Do it.”
A few seconds later, my phone buzzes and I glance at the screen, finding an address on the border of Delaware and New Jersey. My stomach dips at the prospect of entering Galliano territory, but I shake off the feeling of dread.
“Got it,” I say. “Is the door locked?”
“Yeah,” she replies.
“How many floors up?”
“Five,” she says.
“And no fire escape?”
“No.”
“Are you hungry, hurt, or in any immediate harm?”
“I’m fine. Just bored and lonely.”
“Alright.” I exhale, releasing lungfuls of frustration. “Let me send you some money. Use it to keep yourself entertained. I’ll work on locating which apartment unit you’re in and get you as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” she says, her voice softening with relief.
Her gratitude fills my heart with a mix of warmth and pride. So, this is what it feels like to be a protector. The big brother I never had.
“Don’t mention it, love,” I say.
After ending the call with Miranda, I forward her a screenshot of an untraceable credit card she can use to buy whatever she wants online. I send Dr. Brunelli a text to forward a letter to the Tourgis Academy, excusing Miranda for her absence.
The door leading from the wine cellar clicks open, and I whirl around. Benito steps in clad in bulletproof armor, a reminder that he was allowed to participate in last night’s battle, while I was relegated to triage.
“What did you learn?” he asks.