Rosa

Chapter 45

The damning message glared back at Rosa. Full of deadly promise. Like staring into the barrel of a loaded pistol. Such tension felt reminiscent of the cab ride in Madrid when his men had nearly shot her through the skull.

You promised that you would not betray me again, my other half.

Rosa understood all too well how his mind operated. She knew he had chosen his words carefully. With intention. Every fucking syllable was meant to terrorize.

You lied.

His approach wasn't so different from a serial killer selecting the perfect weapon to torment his next victim.

Now, you must die.

But Rosa's pulse didn't quicken. Her blood didn't run cold. Golden eyes narrowed sharply. She withheld the urge to scoff. At this point, threats on her life were predictable. Uninspired. Positively rasoir.

Boring.

For the first time ever, he failed to rattle her. The twisted fucker might be able to scar her flesh. He might even snap her bones. But never again would she allow him to touch her spirit. Rosa's resolve stood firm. Something incendiary had sparked in her since arriving in Catanzaro. The world had shifted on its axis. Cristiano knew about Nijah. She knew about his tragedies, too. It compelled Rosa to relinquish her "fuck-it-all" philosophy, and, for once, actually give a fuck. Together—they were going to become a goddamn force. Vengeance was theirs to grasp. It was entirely possible to seize the heavens and walk through hellfire. Rosa felt invincible. Even if her newfound courage bordered on recklessness.

What was life if not a game of risk and chance?

Indeed—this time—all she carried was a wary kind of anxiety. No fear. Just anxiety. Anxiety over how a monster like Mesrine could be destroyed.

Would it be possible for a nobody like her to unseat an all-powerful crime lord like him?

Before, Rosa simply had to outrun Mesrine. Now, she'd be forced to outthink him. Outplay him.

Did she have it in her to take down a monster?

What if, by the end of her crusade, she ended up even crueler and more fucked up than him?

Rosa didn't know how to answer this disturbing question, but she intended to discover where this dangerous rabbit hole might lead her. More than anything, she wished to wrench back the power Mesrine had stolen from her. Rosa intended to raze his empire to the ground and watch him seethe in agony as she crushed his throne beneath her stilettos.

Her thoughts continued to spin, spin, spin. Rosa's confidence wavered slightly as she read Mesrine's text one more time. Her mouth set in a grim line. In less than twenty-four hours, she narrowly escaped Mesrine's clutches in Madrid only to be targeted by him again in Catanzaro.

How the hell had Mesrine managed to uncover her betrayal, anyway?

As far as he was concerned, she was supposed to be back in Marseille. Gathering intel and plotting against Cristiano like a good, little moucharde. Snitch.

Rosa snuck a troubled look in Cristiano's direction.

Had he misplaced his confidence in Marcello's tech-savvy?

It wasn't unthinkable for Mesrine's men to, somehow, hack through the protections Marcello had put in place on the burner phone.

Right?

Rosa's suspicions took a darker turn.

Or, perhaps, Cristiano hadn't misplaced his trust in Marcello's abilities.