Chapter 97

ROSALIND

Tommaso ordered me injected with that drug because he doesn't want me warning Cesare against cooperating with the Galliano family. I've been drifting in and out of consciousness, caught in a battle between scorching heat and chilling shivers. It's as though my body can't decide whether to burn or freeze.

My fever dreams are of Miranda at the Moirai academy, suffering through grueling regimes and torture training. Gunther stands over her trembling form, offering her a friendly hand. He'll groom her the way he tried to groom me. He'll offer her a shoulder to cry on and ply her with special privileges before making her sleep with older men.

I can't allow that to happen.

"Rosalind." Cesare's voice pulls me out of my delirium. I try to open my eyes, but they're too heavy.

"Rosalind," he repeats, his voice steadier.

"Cesare?" I groan.

"That's it, love. You need to fight to stay conscious."

My chest is a raging furnace, and the air is so sweltering I can barely get oxygen in my lungs. Sweat coats my skin like a boiling shroud, searing heat into my bones.

"Too hot," I rasp.

Cesare pulls off a sheet, letting in a gust of air that cools my skin. "You were going into hypothermia earlier. I did everything I could to keep you warm."

"Miranda?"

"Tommy wants me to kill Roman and Benito," he replies with a sigh. "And I've agreed."

My eyes snap open. "What?"

We're in a dim room, illuminated by a rectangular window near the ceiling, letting in dappled light through overgrown shrubs and foliage. It's about the size of a small pantry and secured by a heavy door with keyholes at strategic points. That won't stop me from trying to kick it open or ram it with my shoulder.

I try to rise off the bed, but Cesare pushes me down. I've never seen him look so serious.

"You need to rest," he says. "They came in three hours ago and injected you with a strong sedative. If they hear you moving about, you'll get another dose."

His eyes are dark with worry, and his hair has come loose from its ponytail, framing his face with gentle waves. Stubble covers his jawline, making him appear much older than a man barely twenty-five. I've never seen him look so disturbed.

"We have to get out," I manage to croak. "Miranda…"

A sob catches in my throat.

He pulls me into his chest. "The Galliano brothers won't let anything happen to her."

"Only because they want to be the ones who hurt her," I sob.

His arms tighten around my back, but he offers no words of reassurance. Maybe Matteo came in earlier to gloat about what he planned on doing to my baby girl.

I've never felt so helpless. Not even when Cesare tied me to a cot and wrapped my body in bandages. I need to break down this drug, make sure they don't inject me with any more doses, and find where Gunther has hidden Miranda.

"Are they in contact with Gunther?" I ask.

"Tommy still has your phone."

"Then what am I still doing here? Gunther wants me. Tommaso needs to hand me over."

Cesare releases the hug and lays me on the mattress. I stare up into his shadowed eyes.

"What?" I ask.

"Tommy doesn't want Miranda in the house."

"Why not?" Realization slaps me in the face. "Because of Matteo?"

He nods.

A lump forms in my throat, and I swallow. While Gunther is a despicable human being, he didn't make a move on me until after I turned eighteen. But he threatened to turn Miranda into a Lolita assassin, which means he won't wait long before putting her to work.

"I asked Tommy to send her away to school." He squeezes his eyes shut. "There are so many things I want to tell you, but the room is probably bugged."

My eyes flutter shut, and I breathe hard and fast to increase my metabolism. Even if it only cuts short the drug's influence by a few minutes, that's a few minutes less time Miranda will spend with Gunther.

The next man to open the door will find himself incapacitated and disarmed.

"Keep breathing," Cesare says, as though reading my thoughts.

He intertwines our fingers, and I nod.

"I'm sorry."

I crack open an eye. "What for?"

"I had no idea we would be walking into a trap." He grimaces. "And if you knew the truth about why Matty was targeting me, you might have warned me not to go without backup."

"Don't." I shake my head. "I was also hiding secrets."

The click of locks turning in the door breaks our moment, and Tommaso barges in with a small entourage of goons in black suits. Beneath his leather overcoat, he wears a white turtleneck with matching gloves.

I tense, my weakened body quaking with fury and disgust. Tommaso pauses in the middle of the room, allowing the man holding a courier package to approach.

Cold panic explodes in my chest at the thought of its contents.

If Gunther has delivered Miranda's finger…

"Good news," Tommaso says. "Isabella sent us a shipment of benzo."

Dread slams in my belly like a roundhouse kick, and I flinch. There's only one reason why they brought that drug. I can't afford to spend the next few hours too high to function. My muscles tighten as I prepare to bolt.

Cesare rises off the bed and charges at the man holding the box. "You promised not to inject her with any more of that shit."

"Seize him," Tommaso says with a smirk.

Two men rush forward, grab Cesare off the mattress, and pin him against the wall.

Another walks to the man holding the box and extracts a vial and a syringe. He strides toward me, loading it with clear fluid.

Panic seizes my lungs as I hyperventilate, my eyes widening. "No," I rasp. "Not again."

Tommaso crosses the room, his teeth bared. "Be thankful you're not screaming in a funeral pyre, because that's exactly what I plan for you the moment Cesare tires of your sloppy cunt."

"Fuck you," I hiss.

He sneers down at the sheet covering my body and scoffs. "I don't pick my fucks from the gutter, unlike my nephew and brother."

"Don't come near me," I scream, my voice hoarse. Even as the words leave my lips, I know I'm wasting my breath.

"Silence the bitch," Tommaso says.

"Let go of her!" Cesare roars from across the room, but one of the men holding him back clamps a hand over his mouth.

The man with the syringe approaches the mattress, his face an impassive mask. I kick out as he bends over me, but my limbs are too weak to make any kind of impact.

He swats aside my feeble defense, takes my arm in an iron grip, and slides the needle into my vein. Cool liquid seeps into my bloodstream, sending shivers through my body as it numbs and suffocates my senses.

The euphoria from the last dose is replaced by a violent, all-consuming agony. Every muscle in my body tenses and spasms, making my eyes roll back into my head. I try to scream, but my voice is trapped in my throat with an iron fist of pain. Every inch of my body feels like it's being shredded from the inside out, and I can do nothing but endure the torture.

"Bitch sent us poison," Tommy roars.

Somewhere on the edge of my consciousness, I'm vaguely aware of something crashing against the wall. I think it's the contents of the courier box.

"Let's go," he snaps.

Footsteps thunder out of the room and the door slams shut.

Cesare rushes to my side and cradles me in her arms. "Get me some fucking water."

I can't even relax in his touch. Whatever they injected into me is so overwhelming, it feels like this is the end.

"We did it," he whispers in my ear, the sound barely audible above my noisy breaths. "Dr. Cortese sent you Christian's antidote."