Rosa

Chapter 38

A surge of resistance twined with an old, familiar "fuck-it-all" mindset coursed through Rosa as she eyed Cristiano.

Her amber gaze grew sharp as she stared him down. Gone was her doting lover. Gone was the sexy bastard who had given her pleasure unlike any other. This was Cristiano Massera now. A man not to be trifled with. A dangerous man who might wield too much power over her—if she wasn't careful, if she handed him too much of her trust while he gave her next to nothing.

Rosa remained on his lap, but, right then, her spine straightened. Her muscles tensed. Her body no longer felt soft or pliant as she leaned against him. She might be going to Catanzaro to fuck Cristiano's brains out, but she refused to become his puppet or plaything in the process. Rosa wanted to be his equal. Anything less felt unacceptable.

At this point, after all that she had endured, after all that she had lost, there was no question in her mind: Rosa would rather die than land in another hellish prison like the one Mesrine caged her in.

Giving little thought to their agreement, Rosa decided to change the game plan, fearlessly, a bit rashly, like a small feline plotting to corner prey that was much too large for her tiny claws and fangs.

She cleared her throat. "You are right, mon beau. I have not been entirely honest with you about Mesrine."

Cristiano grimaced but said nothing.

Right off the bat, Rosa didn't pull any punches. "Do you know how I convinced him to trust me? To negotiate my freedom after his men trapped me in that cab?"

"I do not," he murmured.

"I asked him to kill me," she supplied with a dark laugh, "I told him, point blank, to pull the trigger if he didn't trust me. His men put their guns to my head. I thought I was going to die."

His olive-toned skin paled slightly at the implications of her admission. "What if—"

"What if he put a bullet in my brain?" Rosa interjected smoothly. "Then, I would not be sitting here with you, now, would I?"

"I am glad your gamble paid off," Cristiano commented hoarsely.

Sighing, Rosa continued, "Mesrine also forced me to kiss him. I wanted to vomit in his mouth, but I smiled like a whore and kissed him, anyway. Because he would have suspected my loyalty, otherwise."

Remorse flashed over his face. "I wish you did not have to endure what you endured with Mesrine, I cannot wait to make him pay for it, in blood, but...

"But?"

Cristiano had the audacity to gaze at her like a man in love. "You have no idea how relieved I am that you are alive. That you survived. That you found a way to come back to me."

His words melted her heart, but she refused to let emotion sway her resolve.

Rosa cast a piercing look in his direction. "I am curious to know..."

"Yes?"

In snippy tones, she asked, "What is it with you mafia men and your obsession with loyalty?"

With a pained expression, Cristiano tried to reach over to brush her cheek with his hand. As though he wanted to comfort her.

But she turned away from him. "Non."

His hand fell away. "No?"

"I will not let you touch me again until the playing field has evened out between us."

"That is not what we agreed on, baby," he chided gently. "This is my week. Not yours."

"Do not 'baby' me," Rosa scolded back with a dull, weary look in her eyes. "I am tired of playing these games with you men all the time."