Chapter 41

ROSALIND

Cesare didn't even have the decency to leave my chains long enough for me to sit on the floor. If he had, then I could have reached the sink and worked out a way to escape the bathroom.

Only one thing is better than being in the dungeon, and that's the lack of flickering light.

The bastard secured my chains to a pipe and heavy-weight hooks. No matter how much I throw my weight backward, it's no use. I'll be in this bathroom for hours, maybe even days, until Cesare decides to play his sick games.

Leaning my head against the tiled wall, I strike the wall with the metal hand-split, trying to at least free one finger. When that doesn't work, I chew at the thick cuff around my wrists, which might as well be shoe leather. These shackles aren't BDSM gear. They're the type of heavy-weight restraints that belong to a government agency.

I won't give up trying. It's just a matter of time before I find the chain's weakest link.

The clanking of metal breaks me out of my thoughts. It's coming from the playroom, sounding like someone is trying to find their way in. Stiffening, I glance toward the door.

This can't be Cesare. He had no trouble pushing the lever that turned the wall behind the sink into a door. His brothers would also know about the secret entrance, so it's probably a lackey, coming to interfere with what he thinks is a helpless woman.

Or Gunther finally staged a rescue party?

I shake off that thought. My handler probably wants me dead.

My heart pounds with two-parts trepidation and one-part anticipation. What have I got to lose by calling out?

Nothing.

Even if it's a Montesano employee, he doesn't know about the sink.

"Hello?" I call out.

The banging stops. "Rosa?" asks a familiar female voice. "Can you hear me?"

My heart skips several beats. "Britt?"

"How do I get inside?"

I blurt out an explanation. A second later, my best friend bursts through the door, dressed like a waiter.

My jaw drops. Britt must have followed the tracker I injected into my belly button. I glance at a metal cylinder hanging around her neck. It's an encryption override module, which explains how she bypassed the biometric security.

Eyes widening, she takes in my naked form. "Are you hurt?"

I give her a nod and try not to squirm. Explaining why Cesare left my body unmarked might be more humiliating than suffering all his bullshit.

"How on earth did you get past all the guards?" I ask.

Britt rushes to my side with a set of bolt cutters and surveys the chains, the hooks, and the wrist cuffs.

She snips the padlock holding my hands in the metal split, and the leather comes loose. "I ducked out before the shooting."

"Shooting?" I free my hands with my teeth and toss the splint on the floor while she crouches to snap my ankle restraints.

As we both slip into catsuits made of material to render us invisible to security cameras, Britt explains that the Moirai sent a team of assassins to infiltrate Roman's welcome-home party as waiters and guests.

I frown, wondering if it's a good idea to replicate the method another assassin used to take down the Capello family. There's no time to question it when she presses an energy bar to my lips and cracks open a small bottle of water.

"Are you alright?" she asks.

"Yeah." I down the entire contents while chewing. "Let's go."

We race out of the bathroom, through the playroom, and out of the door. My steps are unsteady and my gut churns with nausea at the sudden influx of sustenance, but I push through, not wanting to waste Britt's deadly risk.

She didn't just break through the Montesano family's security. She abandoned her mission. If Gunther discovers Britt jeopardized a lucrative triple assassination for me, she's dead.

We continue down the corridor, through another security door, and into a wider hallway lined with doors and cameras. I shiver at the reminder that this is where the Montesano family keeps their prisoners.

The faint noise of yelling and gunshots is my only source of comfort, knowing that anyone watching the security cameras will be too preoccupied with the assassinations notice if our catsuits don't keep us completely invisible.

Britt turns to me, her features hardened with determination. "It will be chaos upstairs. There are hundreds of guests trying to escape the shooting. We can't go back the way I came."

"Alright," I rasp. "Then let's go in the opposite direction. If there isn't another exit, we can find a hiding place."

Britt rushes ahead down the hallway, passing the underground prison cells, and stops at another door. Her encryption override module lets it open with a click, and we continue down a darkened stairwell that leads to another door.

It shuts behind us, encasing us in darkness. From the musty air and the faint hint of damp, I can already tell that this lower part of the basement isn't as well maintained as the place where they keep their captives.

Britt presses a plastic item into my hands that I immediately recognize as night-vision goggles. I slip them on over my head and allow my vision to adjust.

We're inside a huge chamber spanning at least a thousand square feet. Metal tubing snakes along the walls, connecting massive vats. Stacks of wooden barrels reach toward the high ceiling, reminding me a little of the library at my old academy.

"What in the prohibition?" Britt whispers. "This has to be an old-fashioned distillery."

"The Montesanos were the founding mob family in New Alderney," I whisper back as we navigate the maze-like pathways. "I had no idea they brewed underneath their mansion, but it means there has to be a back door where they smuggled out the booze."

She grunts her agreement.

For the next several minutes, we examine the walls for any signs of another door, a hatch, or a chute. There's no way Cesare's great grandfather allowed his henchmen to carry barrels of illegal alcohol through the house or out the gates. If we're lucky, we'll find a disused tunnel leading to a point lower down on Alderney Hill.

The water and energy bar kick in, infusing my body with renewed strength. Escaping the Montesano stronghold is the opportunity I need to be free of the Moirai. Gunther will assume I'm dead, and I'll be free to join Miranda in our out-of-state hideout.

With any luck, the other assassins took out all three brothers, so there'll be no-one to come after us for revenge.

Britt coughs, breaking me out of my thoughts. "Found something."

"What is it?" I rush around a stack of barrels to her side.

She stands in front of a wooden panel covered in dust and cobwebs and reaches for a small crowbar. "Let's give it a try."

My heart flips. It's tall and wide enough to fit a barrel. Even if the exit below is blocked, we'll find a way out. I hold my breath as Britt wedges the crowbar into the crack and tries to pry it open. The wood creaks and groans, and the wooden panel gives way, revealing a metal door with a cross-shaped keyhole.

"Shit," I mutter.

"No problem." Britt reaches into her backpack.

Heavy footsteps resound down the stairs, filling the chamber with a thunderous echo. Every fine hair on the back of my neck stands on end.

"Rosalind!" Cesare bellows.

Terror grips me by the throat, and my stomach sinks like a concrete block. How did that crazy bastard survive the shooting?

I turn to where Britt is picking the lock, my heart pounding hard enough to break through the metal door.

"Focus on opening the hatch." I rifle through her backpack and extract a gun. "I'll handle him."

"What are you doing?" she hisses. "Stay hidden."

If Britt found this hatch, then so will Cesare. I can't allow us both to get caught.

"One of us has to be free to take care of Miranda," I whisper. "Besides, you're the tech whizz. I'm the better marksman."

"I swore to pay you back." Her voice breaks. "I owe you my life."

"And I told you we were even. Then take care of Miri. And get rid of her phone because she's in contact with that maniac."

She's about to protest when I step away, leaving her to continue picking the locks. Britt has done enough for Miranda and me already. There's no way she could handle this psychopath's brand of torture.

"Rosalind," Cesare growls.

I creep along a stack of barrels and peek out to find his shadowy figure disappearing behind a large crate. He holds his phone with one hand, using it as a flashlight, and in the other he grips a gun.

Silence stretches across the abandoned distillery, broken only by the defining thud of my pulse. I wait for Britt to open the door, while dreading the reappearance of Cesare.

If the triple hit failed, then it means the assassins have either abandoned their mission or are dead. I no longer need to fear Gunther's retaliation if I kill Cesare. His death is the only thing standing between me and my freedom.

"Rosa," Britt whispers, just as Cesare jumps out from behind a nearby stack of barrels.

On instinct, I shoot him square in the chest. He stumbles and lands on a rack of bottles before shooting upward.

As I'm about to turn around to join, a heavy weight slams on my head and everything goes black.