Rosa

Chapter 11

As the vehicle continued rolling towards their destination, Rosa arched one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows at Mr. Massera.

She scoffed, "Wipe that look off of your face, mon beau. I am more than capable of dragging out your dirty, little secrets with or without your cooperation—"

Still smirking, he interjected, "I do not doubt your capabilities."

She proceeded in sharp tones, "I am simply giving you an opportunity, right now, to come clean and earn my respect and my trust. But—if you insist on doing things the hard way, then, by all means, go ahead and dig your own grave."

"Are you threatening me, Miss Lenoir?"

Did he even have to ask?

This dumbass!

Rosa sniffed in a snobbish manner, "Oui."

Keeping his eyes on the road, Mr. Massera asked with a faintly amused expression, "If I die, who will pay out the rest of your €30,000?"

This smartass!

Rosa snapped, "Then, I will sell your organs to make up for the difference."

He whistled softly. "You are a frightening woman."

"I am not frightening. I am fair. There is a difference. The last imbécile who fucked me over did not live long enough to see his next birthday. If he paid me on time, then he would still be alive. I do not strike at anyone who does not deserve it."

"Are you threatening me again?"

"Oui."

Yet, Mr. Massera didn't seem to be particularly threatened as he drawled in lazy tones, "Do you think I will live to see my next birthday?"

She huffed, "That will depend on whether or not you fuck me over."

His smirk widened into a grin. "It is actually my birthday... today."

This caught her slightly off guard. "You must be joking."

"I am being serious. Yesterday, I was thirty. Today, I am thirty-one."

Her golden eyes fluttered with astonishment.

She offered grudgingly, "Joyeux... anniversaire. I guess."

Happy birthday.

But he paid no mind to her well wishes.

"There," murmured Mr. Massera, "I have revealed more of myself to you. You have my full name and my real birth date. Now, you have everything you need to uncover all of my dirty, little secrets. I hope you will not disappoint me."

A realization suddenly occurred to Rosa.

When Mr. Massera first appeared in her suite, he had mentioned that she was being 'interviewed,' so to speak, in that Marseille nightclub. He had intended to test her qualifications before introducing himself as her real employer.

All of his secrecy—

All of his vagaries—

Perhaps, the bastard was still interviewing her right this moment—to see if she could pluck out the truth from his lies, to outplay him, at his own game?

Her brow creased with irritation.

She accused him outright, "You are still testing me."

He didn't confirm or deny her accusation and, instead, provided, "I always do my homework before reaching out to a potential ally. Or a potential enemy. I need to know that I can count on you to do the same if I bring you into my inner circle."