Chapter 96

CESARE

I lie naked on a mattress on the floor, spooned behind Rosalind's nude form. My body heat is the only thing keeping her from freezing to death, since they've put the air conditioning on full blast. We're in a windowless basement cell with illumination coming from chinks of light beneath the door.

Tommy's son and an entourage of lackeys bundled us into a vehicle at gunpoint then drove us to a hideout, where they forced us to undress.

That shit they injected into Rosalind made her too high to take off her clothes. I had to break one bastard's nose and another one's finger to stop him from touching her. In the end, they decided it wasn't worth trying to fight me and left me to undress her myself.

At least eighteen hours have passed since Rosalind's boss called with news that he's holding Miranda hostage. I don't know if it's bullshit, since Tommy hung up before he could even complete his demand.

Rosalind is at risk of hypothermia. Her body temperature after passing out suggests dilated blood vessels and heat loss. Now, she's unconscious in a freezing basement and her body temperature is dropping like a stone. She can't even shiver to stay warm.

All I have to offer her is the warmth of my body.

I run a hand up and down her cold forearm, trying to infuse some warmth into her frigid skin. She's almost blue in the bleak light, her soft breathing the only sign of life.

"Those fuckers will die," I snarl under my breath, pressing myself as close to Rosalind as I can. This is no place for her. No place for either of us.

Our only chance of getting out of this shit hole is Matty, who is desperate to connect with the children he fathered through rape. Rape is the only way Mom could have ever gotten pregnant by that monster. After seeing those two in person, there's no way she would have slept with either of them without being coerced.

Tucking my face into the crick of her neck, I try to breathe life into her cooling flesh. "I'm going to get you out of here," I whisper into her hair. "And we'll get Miranda."

Every primal instinct screams at me to rush to the door and wrench it open and unleash a roar to shatter those bastard's eardrums, but that shit wouldn't work in my basement dungeons. The Galliano's doors are even thicker than the ones Dad installed beneath our home and are bolted in four places.

I have a helpless woman to protect, and I'm desperate to save an innocent girl. The only way out of this mess is to use my fucking brain.

As the hours drag past, Rosalind begins to stir. Her breaths lengthen and deepen, and she shivers. Some of the tension leaves my body, and relief washes over me like a wave. She's warming up and showing signs of starting to thrive. I pull her closer into my chest, and with each passing minute, the shivers subside and her skin inches closer to my body heat.

"I've got you," I murmur into her hair. "We're going make it."

"Miranda," she croaks, her voice barely a whisper.

My heart sinks like a dead weight. I don't have the heart to tell her that Tommy wasn't interested in saving her daughter. "Focus on getting warm again, so we can save her."

She falls asleep again, this time a lot warmer than before. It's a clear sign that her body has metabolized the benzo. As I'm dozing off, the sound of bolts being drawn back makes me startle awake.

Heart pounding, I unravel my limbs from Rosalind's and rush to put myself between her and the door. The air grows colder, and I resist the urge to shiver.

It swings open, revealing Tommy Galliano, who has the nerve to wear a silky white robe with a cravat. Behind him is a wall of oversized men holding guns, because a cowardly reptile like him can't show his face without backup.

"Time to give the bitch another dose," he says, flashing his artificial teeth.

Two of the assholes shove me aside and amble toward where I left Rosalind on the mattress.

"Get the hell away from her." I lurch at them with my hands balled into fists.

"Restrain him," Tommy drawls.

Another pair of goons holds me back. Panic sets in as I struggle against their hold, desperate to break away from them and save Rosalind before it's too late. "I swear to god, if you inject that shit in her, I'll hold you down while she carves out your livers."

"Silence him," Tommy says, sounding bored.

It's no use. Another set of arms wraps around my neck in a choke hold, cutting off my air and forcing me to watch helplessly as one of the bastards inject her with fuck knows what.

Anguish burns through my veins like acid as the men back away from Rosalind, leaving her lying helpless on the mattress. As the bastards restraining me release their grip, the second pair return to flank Tommy, whose gaze flickers up and down my naked form.

"Why would you destroy your skin with tattoos?" he says, his lips tightening with disapproval.

"What did you do to her?" I yell, my heart thrashing painfully against its cage.

Tommy waves away my question. "Relax. It's just a little benzo to keep her docile."

"What's happening with Miranda?"

He puts a finger to his lips, his gaze darting toward the ceiling. "Quiet. I have a special guest upstairs. She doesn't need to know I have a Montesano in the basement."

My skin flushes with heat. "Tell me what you're doing about the bastard who took Miranda."

"I don't give a shit about that little bitch or the one you have on the mattress," he sneers. "And your only worth to me is your connection to the Montesano family." He twitches, as though he's allergic to silk.

"So, I'm a hostage," I say from between clenched teeth.

"You're going to kill your brothers and take over their empire."

His words hit me like a bullet to the chest, making my breath catch.

"You expect me to betray Roman and Benito?" I rasp.

Tommy leans forward, his fingers scratching the reddened skin beneath the silk cravat. "I'm not asking you to pull the trigger, boy. Just arrange for them to be in the right place, and I'll take care of the rest."

I glare into his dilated pupils, which should be constricted in the dim light. Heat radiates from his body, which could mean anything, considering I'm so cold, but the sweat beading on his forehead combined with the itching suggests he might be high.

My jaw tightens. I won't betray Benito and Roman, but I also won't allow Miranda to remain a hostage to this maniac. I've never heard of a Lolita assassin, but the image it conjures up is disturbing.

It's time to use my fucking brain and conjure up a plan to keep these Galliano bastards from destroying everyone I love. While Matty's weakness is his and other people's children, Tommy's is his addiction. And to a lesser extent, his younger brother.

"I have two conditions," I say.

He grins, his body twitching with triumph. "Name them."

"First, I want you to bring Miranda."

His features tighten. "Gunther won't hand her over unless I give him Rosalind, and Matteo doesn't need to be fixated on yet another young girl."

My stomach roils at the implication of his words, but I shove aside the sickening images and look Tommy straight in the eye. "My demand still stands. We can keep Miranda at school, but I want my sister out of that creep's clutches."

Sister. The word catches in my throat, even though the idea of Miranda being my sibling fills my chest with warmth.

"Fine, whatever," Tommy mutters. "What's your second demand?"

It's time to take advantage of his biggest weakness. Keeping my features even, I say, "Better accommodation and stop injecting Rosalind with Benzo. I don't want her getting addicted. Because of you, Dr. Cortese refined her formula so her son doesn't need to take so much of it to get high."

Tommy's facade falters. His twitchy fingers stop their endless itching beneath his cravat, his eyes widen, and his mouth falls slack. "She... what?"

"Christian couldn't function until she modified the drug. I don't want the same for Rosalind."

"Give me his phone," he barks.

The bastard on his left stops pointing a gun at my chest for the minute it takes him to hand Tommy my handset.

"Call her." He shoves the phone into my hands.

"And say what?" I ask.

Tommy's breath quickens, and his body makes an excited shudder that makes my stomach churn. Someone needs to put this mad dog out of his misery. Him and his pedo brother.

"Get me some of that benzo," he snarls.

I clench my jaw, trying to contain a roar of triumph. Now isn't the time to celebrate. I need to stay calm. One wrong step could ruin everything.

Tommy clicks his fingers. "Gun."

One of the men passes him a pistol, which he presses between my eyes. The cold metal barrel pushes into my forehead, making my breath quicken. On the inside, I'm roaring with laughter, but I hold my features into a neutral mask.

"Call Isabella," he says, his voice cold. "Tell her to deliver all the benzo she's got to the St. Dismas Medical Center in Hamlet, New Jersey."

"She's more likely to deliver poison to New Jersey than Benzo," I hiss.

Tommy pulls away the gun, his jaw dropping. "Of course." He scratches his temple with the barrel. "So, where?"

"Locker 101 in Braye Airport," I say. "It won't attract suspicion because it's in New Alderney, but it's near enough to New Jersey for one of your men to pick it up without getting caught crossing Montesano turf."

"Do it on speakerphone," he says, his breath quickening.

I call Christian's burner phone and ask to speak to his mother. Fabric rushes through the speaker as he hands over the phone.

"Cesare?" she asks. "Congratulations. The explosion is all over the news."

"Thanks," I say with a weak chuckle. "This line isn't secure, but I need a favor."

She pauses. "What is it?"

"That special formula you make for Christian. How soon can you courier everything you've got to Braye?"

"An hour," she says, her voice tight. "Any particular location?"

"Airport locker 101?"

"On it." The phone goes dead.

"Courier?" Tommy says, his nostrils flaring.

I cock my head, feigning confusion. Dr. Cortese never said anything to me directly, but Roman mentioned that Tommy seemed more upset at the loss of her than the loss of the income he was getting through the meth lab. There's no fucking way I'll allow another innocent woman to fall into his scaly hands.

"How will I get back my Isabella?" he wails. "You could have at least ordered her to send Christian. He would make the perfect hostage."

My breath shallows at the reminder that I'm related to this psychopath in more than just blood. Kidnapping a child is exactly what I did to Rosalind.

"At this rate, Rosalind will die of hypothermia," I say, my voice trembling with rage. "Move us to a warmer room."

Tommy looks confused for a moment before slapping his head. "Right." He turns to one of his men. "Take the boy upstairs. I want him in the room furthest away from Emberly."

My jaw drops.

He's taken Roman's crazy balcony woman?