Chapter 99

ROSALIND

Cesare balks at the suggestion of leaving me alone in the back seat with Matteo, but I give his hand a gentle squeeze. When he continues to argue with the guards, I crush his fingers to demonstrate my strength.

I was weak because of the drugs. The antidote, combined with my banked fury, has only made me stronger. Any shock at seeing Matteo again has faded into seething resentment. The last thing I plan on doing is fall apart.

He needs to trust that I can handle my former abuser and his henchmen.

"Fine," he growls, and I know he's talking to me, rather than them. "I'll drive."

He slides his hand out from beneath my head, easing it on the leather seat, and steps out of the vehicle. Silence extends as his heavy footsteps crunch on the gravel before he yanks open the driver's door and flings himself on the seat.

I peek through my lashes at the bulky figure entering the back of the limo, followed by Matteo and another goon. The trio settle onto the back seat opposite where I'm lying without a taunting word. By the time the front passenger side door opens and shuts, I've already taken stock of the situation.

Nino's gun is in a chest holster, while Gio's is tucked into the back of his waistband. Matteo appears unarmed, but that safari suit of his has multiple pockets. There's a divider separating the driver's compartment from the back seats, with an open slider window. I can only assume it's soundproof.

My heart pounds as the limo pulls out and sweat breaks out across my brow. The thought of Miranda getting hurt supersedes the terror of being trapped with Matteo and two men, but that doesn't stop my stomach from roiling.

I focus on my breathing, slow and steady, pretending to still be under the influence of drugs. Whatever happens, I need to stay alert. At least until we're far from where the men can call for backup.

"Give us some privacy," Matteo says.

Every drop of blood in my veins turns to ice. Years of training and the burning desire to protect Miranda keeps me from freezing.

Nino rises off his seat to slide the divider closed. My fingers itch to grab the gun off his chest, but I hold them still.

Not yet.

We're too close to the mansion and reinforcements.

The only sounds that follow are the rumble of the engine and the muted crunch of tires over gravel. Forcing back thoughts of what Gunther could be doing to Miranda, I focus on staying calm.

Matteo's phone rings, and he has a lengthy conversation with Tommaso, assuring his older brother that he's resting in his room. The two men talk business as the limousine navigates uneven roads before merging into the highway.

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.

Nino lifts himself off the seat, his huge body blocking out the light. His meaty hand lands on my thigh, causing an explosion of nausea. My heart is beating so hard that I'm surprised he can't feel it from the vibrations of my skin.

His thick fingers slide up to my crotch, pausing at the scrap of lace, making me hold my breath. I can't react. Not until the moment is right.

"Why did you return her panties?" he asks with a chuckle. "They're in the way."

"Slide them to the side," Matteo says, his voice amused.

"Is she wet?" Gio asks.

"Gimme a minute." Nino leans closer, his hot breath invading my sinuses with a foul cocktail of stale coffee and garlic.

Not yet.

Thick fingers glide over my labia, and I suppress a shudder.

Not yet.

"Dry as a fucking desert."

Matteo chuckles. "She was never like that with me."

"Maybe I should go first," Gio says. "Get her nice and ready."

Nino grunts. "It's bad enough having you here while I'm trying to fuck. I don't need your commentating."

"Fine, fine," Gio mutters. "Just leave some for me."

Nino shoves my legs apart and reaches for his fly, leaning so close that the gun in his chest holster presses into my shoulder.

Now.

Panic squeezes my chest like a vise, crushing the breath from my lungs. I try to move my arm, but it's frozen. It's been over a decade since my last freeze response. Adrenaline surges through my veins. I command my fingers to move, but they won't twitch.

Now, Rosalind.

NOW!