Rosa

Chapter 59

He referred to the phone—his phone—clutched in her grasp, "You are holding the proof in your hands. Check my messages again."

She smiled. "I know. I already saw all of your texts. I was simply testing you."

"You bitch."

Rosa smacked the back of his head and continued with her interrogation, "What kind of poison?"
He whimpered, "Ricin."

Rosa rolled her eyes. How very typical. Personally, she would've gone with thallium. "Thank you for your cooperation. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go unfuck this situation."

"It is too late for you to intervene."

Rosa tensed slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Their drinks have already been compromised."

Rosa grew increasingly distressed as her thoughts raced back to the trays she'd personally served the guests. "Was there ricin in the champagne that was just brought out?"

Had she unknowingly murdered her own mon beau?

"Non, non, of course not," Armand mumbled. "We are not trying to kill all of the guests. Beverages were instructed to be hand-delivered to each target, individually, at opportune moments."

With her mood fraying at the seams, she grew distraught with urgency, demanding, "How many beverages have been distributed? And which targets actually drank them?"

"I do not know. It was my job to smuggle the poison on-site. The rest was not part of my assignment."

If Armand truly didn't know, he was useless at this point. Rosa struggled to contain her anxiety. Every second spent in his company was endangering everyone's lives. Maybe they'd already ingested the ricin. Or maybe not. Either way, Rosa needed to warn Mrs. Vitale so she could save herself and the others. If it was already in their systems, there was a chance that they could be saved with the proper medical treatments.

Putain de bordel de merde!

What if fate actually succeeded in stealing Cristiano from her today?

She'd already lost too much. She couldn't lose him, too. Rosa's heart clenched with a violent sort of desperation.

Non.

Non.

Non.

She wouldn't let that happen. Again, Mrs. Vitale's words haunted her. Never give your heart to a man unless he has fucking earned it. The bastard couldn't die without earning her love. Every wretched morsel of it. She was still waiting for him to fix everything that he fucked up between them.

He owed her that much, non?

Failing miserably to read the room, Armand proceeded to boast, "After today, there will no one standing in our wa—"

He yelped when she sank her blade two more millimeters into his flesh. Red trickled down his shoulder. Rosa countered sweetly, "Hush. I will let you in on a little secret. I vowed to the hostess that I would not make a mess today. So, please, do not make me splatter more of your blood all over her beautiful home."

"If you kill me," snarled Armand, "you will not leave this wedding alive. My boss will make sure of it. I assure you, no one survives his wrath. He is a force to be reckoned with."

She sighed in exasperation. "You keep bringing up this fucker. Why are you so obsessed with him?"

"That is because he is more frightening than the devil."