Chapter 91

ROSALIND

My head pounds in time with the aftershocks pounding through my core. I stride through the armory on trembling legs, desperate for fresh air.

The last man who said he loved me was an abuser who got me pregnant, then told everyone the baby couldn't possibly be his because he was faithful to my mother. He got her to confine me to a room until it was time for my cesarean.

After they coerced me into signing over the adoption papers, they banished me to a boarding school where I was groomed into joining the Moirai.

Words are deceptive. Words are cheap. Words pave the road to hell. They're the red flags that remind me to guard my heart, because no good ever comes from grand declarations.

I burst through the exit, sucking in lungfuls of air. Despite the sun shining overhead, the industrial estate surrounding the armory is as bleak as my thoughts.

Why did Cesare have to ruin such a perfect moment? I loved how he was one of the few men who saw beyond my exterior and recognized my talents. I believed his compliments because they were true, but then I also thought the same about Matteo.

Matteo filled the void left by the father I never knew before the love he claimed to have for me twisted into something monstrous. It was a slow descent into darkness I didn't recognize until I was too deep to claw my way out.

And it all started with a confession of love.

He used to tell me I was beautiful, special, mature. That nobody else understood him the way I did, not even my mother. That we were soulmates.

The door opens with a thud that pulls me out of my thoughts. Cesare storms out, his eyes burning, the veins in his forehead standing out like bolts of thunder.

I turn to face him, but he pins me against the wall before I can even speak.

"What the fuck was that?" he snarls.

My jaw tightens, and my hands curl into fists. I didn't think he would follow me demanding answers. Those words of love were supposed to be a momentary lapse.

Ignoring the guilt twanging at my heartstrings, I meet his gaze. There's no doubt that he's hurt, but leaving was self-preservation.

His face looms inches from mine, every detail of those handsome features etched with fury.

"Cesare," I say with a sigh.

"No, Rosalind," he snaps. "Don't act like I'm the one who's being unreasonable when you walked out on me after I bared my soul."

My heart sinks into my stomach, bringing up a belly full of acid. I swallow it down, along with a bitter retort. "You forget we have an arrangement."

"Don't act like you feel nothing, because I know there's more to us than this truce. I love you, Rosalind?—"

"Stop," I say, my breath quickening.

"Why? Because you don't want to admit to being in love with me, too?"

Pressure builds up like a tea kettle. The word love whistling through my ears. His accusation presses down on my lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

"Do you know who else used to manipulate me with that word?" I blurt.

"Your father?" he rasps.

"Stepfather," I reply.

Fury blazes in his eyes, causing them to bulge, and his face twists into a mask of venom. "You're comparing me to that disgusting pedo?"

"Does everything have to revolve around you?" I snap.

He flinches. "What does that mean?"

"I'm trying to explain to you why I had to walk away, and you're offended that I'm triggered by empty declarations of love because they remind me of him."

His nostrils flare. "They weren't empty."

Anger pulses through my veins. Sometimes, Cesare is so hard-headed I want to beat my point into him with my fists. Lashing out at him would probably only lead to another wrestling match and end up in sex.

Sucking in a deep breath, I switch tactics. "How would you expect me to respond if Dr. Daniel dropped the same words?"

His lips part with a protest, but I speak first. "Because he held me against my will, injected me with drugs, and cut off my clothes. I spent less than an hour with him, but I lost count of the weeks I was your captive."

"I never wanted you dead," he growls.

"How was I supposed to know that? I know you're sorry for what you did, but apologies can't take away the scars."

I push against his chest, but he stands in front of me like a wall. Ignoring the urge to strike out, I step out from beneath him and create a little distance.

He grabs my wrist. "Where are you going?"

"St. Dismas Medical Center. I have an assassination to complete. Are you coming?"

We don't exchange a single word on the journey to Hamlet, New Jersey, even though the tension is suffocating. Cesare grips the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white.

I can't even disappear into an exchange of text messages with Miranda because she's on a school trip on a remote spot within Helsing Island's many nature reserves. Instead, I watch the scenery pass by in a blur of greens and browns and yellows.

Matteo used to say that once you've forgiven someone, you should never bring up their past mistakes. It's the type of bullshit philosophy he spewed to avoid accountability.

I hate thinking about that abuser or even acknowledging he's Miranda's father. Now that Gunther and the others are no longer breathing down my neck, I can finally finish the job I started with that grenade launcher.

The sooner he's dead, the sooner I can put the memory of him to rest. I close my eyes and try to tune out the world, but it's futile. Ignoring the presence of Cesare Montesano is like trying to ignore the sun.

At sunset, we arrive in Hamlet. It's a small town nestled in the countryside, with redbrick houses surrounded by rolling hills. I sit up in my seat as Cesare rolls up to the largest building in town.

The medical center is a modern building that looks at odds with the quaint surroundings. It's three stories high, with a mirrored fa?ade that reflects the sunset's orange hues.

My heart thrums, and every instinct screams at me to rush in with guns blazing.

"There's a guesthouse across the road," I say to Cesare. "We could get a room, and?—"

"No."

"No, you don't want to scope out a hospital that might be filled with Galliano guards? Or no, you don't want to wait and see if the brother comes in for a visit so we can make two kills instead of one?"

He turns to me, his teeth bared. "You can be insufferable sometimes, do you know that?"

"I thought you liked a woman who talks tactics."

"Bitch," he mutters under his breath, the corner of his mouth twitching.

"Don't you forget it."

"Aright, we'll check into the guest house, get a room overlooking the medical center, and watch the movement of the guards."

"Good."

"But don't go thinking I'm going to give you any cock."

Ten minutes later, he's fucking me hard and fast into the mattress, making me scream into a pillow for hurting his feelings.