Rosa's heart gave a hard, resounding 'thud' inside her chest.

Cristiano's offer awaited her reply like a devil's deal.

Knowledge was a double-edged sword in their world. It could be used, dually, as weapons and armor. To defeat one's enemies. To guard one's life.

It could also become a noose, though.

Rosa understood—once she let Cristiano share the scope of his plans to her, she might as well let him tie a rope around her throat. If she ever tried to pull away from the man, her knowledge would choke her, strangle her. Death would be the only means to escape.

She weighed the risks and quickly determined: If curiosity didn't kill her, then the ticking clock of mortality would do it. Everyone was going to die. Eventually.

Why not sell her soul to him?

It wasn't like she was going to heaven, anyway. Might as well go out with a 'bang.' Hellfire blazing and all.

Thus, Rosa gave into her whims and answered recklessly, brazenly, "I was born ready."

His dark eyes danced with amusement. "You never disappoint, Miss Lenoir."

Miss Lenoir?

Rosa wrinkled her nose at the formality of it.

'Miss Lenoir' no longer sounded intimate enough for her ears. Cristiano had just, after all, saved her life and let her drench his shirt with her tears and snot and heartbreak.

Demurely, Rosa murmured to him, "Cristiano?"

He glanced over.

"Please," she entreated softly, "use my name as I have used yours. 'Miss Lenoir' feels so... stuffy. Especially now that you have seen me at my worst."

The left side of Cristiano's mouth tilted up. "Are we becoming friends... Rosa?"

She couldn't help but smile.

The way his deep, husky voice caressed her name sent tremors of delight throughout her body.

"Surely," Rosa whispered as she leaned closer to him, "you know that we cannot be friends..."

The corners of his mouth turned down. "No?"

She reached over to rest her hand upon his stubbled jawline. "By now, I think it is clear that you and I are meant to be much more than friends..."

As Rosa's voice trailed off, she let her words suspend between them, rife with suggestion.

Groaning quietly, as though driven against his will, Cristiano leaned his cheek into her touch. He turned his face to brush a kiss against her palm. His affectionate mood, sadly, lasted all but three seconds. Soon enough, the man seemed to catch himself. He pulled away, and the tenderness in his expression hardened with resistance.

Cristiano muttered, "You know..."

"Oui?"

"As tempting as you are, I should warn you—we have no future together."

Rosa balked.

The bastard was truly terrible at buttering up a bitch. Still, she supposed, his honesty counted for something.

With only a touch of spite, she cooed, "Who said anything about a future together? Maybe I only want to fuck you."

Cristiano winced. "You would fuck me and then forget me?"

"I mean—"

He interjected tersely, "If we ever fucked, I would not be able to forget you."

Rosa's breath shorted.

Nom de Dieu, this bastard was doing strange, fluttery things to her heart again!

The indignation in her amber eyes softened with a flicker of real emotion. "Cristiano..."

"Infatti, se ti scopo, forse non vorrò mai lasciarti andare," Cristiano added, growling in a mix of languages, "you are simply that kind of woman."

What did the bastard say in Italian?

Alarm shot up again.

Annoyance surged in Rosa as she demanded, "What do you mean by 'that kind of woman?'"

"The kind who will drive me crazy."

She rolled her eyes. "If a woman can drive you crazy, then you are not much of a man to begin with!"

He laughed at her insult. "I thought I was a unicorn?"

"A comedian," Rosa retorted, "is what you are! De toute façon, enough with the jokes. Tell me what I need to know, mon beau. I am dying to hear more about your dirty, little secrets."

At this, Cristiano's expression sobered almost instantly. His body grew tense and still even in its relaxed, reclined position on the mattress.

"You have figured out some things on your own—it is true that all of us want a piece of the empire left behind from Aberto De León's death," he began, "but there is still a lot you do not know."

"Enlighten me, then, s'il vous plaît."

"My interest in arms trafficking is merely a means to an end. Because I need the cash flow. Vosa is also a means to an end. Because I require his connections."

Her mind began to churn with possibilities.

Money for what?

Connections to whom?

"Go on," she urged.

"Do you know who Vosa answers to?"

Rosa shook her head. "I am not familiar with the chain of command in 'Ndrangheta."

Cristiano continued with a dark look, "Vosa's boss is the man I want."

"Is that so?"

A shadow of pure rage passed through his devil-black eyes. The hatred lingered but for a second before fading away, disappearing so quickly that Rosa wondered if she had seen it at all.

"Sì," Cristiano responded tightly, "he... is endgame."

Rosa eyed Cristiano with unease. "Is your vendetta against Vosa's boss a personal one?"

His mouth curled upwards, but the smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Cristiano's voice sounded strained as he declared, "Nothing is personal. All I want is... justice."

Justice?

What kind of justice?

"An eye for an eye?"

"Something like that."

His answer confirmed nothing, denied nothing.

She probed a little more, "For yourself?"

He shook his head.

"For who, then?"

"For the dead."

Did he plan to kill Vosa's boss to avenge the death of a friend?

"You have known loss," Rosa observed acutely.

"Haven't we all?" he shot back.

Was he talking about her?

Her amber eyes grew round and wide.

She couldn't tell if Cristiano was hinting at Nijah.

Maybe he was simply questioning loss on a broader level?

Rosa chose not to mention anything about her baby.

His response, however, seemed to confirm her suspicions.

Her mind began to spin once more.

Who had Vosa's boss killed in his life?

A family member, a lover, or a... child?

Nijah's little face flashed before her eyes.

Rosa's heart clenched up.

The following words burst from the ache inside her chest before she could pull them back, "Ana lilah wana alih rajieun."

Surprise passed over Cristiano's face. His guard fell away again as his expression softened significantly. "Is that... Arabic?"

"Oui," she whispered.

Rosa never spoke in her mother tongue anymore. It felt too painful. It always reminded her too much of Morocco, of her family, of Nijah.

But, in this moment, in front of this man, it felt like the right thing to say.

Gently, he inquired, "What does it mean?"

Her heart felt a bit heavy as she translated, "To God we belong and to Him we shall return."

He reached over to hold her hand, giving it a little squeeze. "Do you believe in God?"

Cristiano's touch comforted her. It gave Rosa strength to keep going with this touchy subject.

"Not... for me," she said with a bitter laugh, "but I hope He exists for the good and the innocent. To watch over their souls. To wait for them in heaven."

She hoped and prayed that Nijah was in heaven with Him.

"I am sure He exists," Cristiano murmured, "there is too much evil in this world for God not to exist."

Confused, she squinted at him. "What do you mean?"

"Without good, there is no evil. It is balanced in the end, I think. Equal parts of both. With a line down the middle. To separate God from the Devil."

Understanding dawned on her. "I take back what I said earlier."

"Oh?"

"You are no comedian," she mumbled with a small smile, "you are a philosopher."

Still clasping her hand, he chuckled. "You flatter me."

Pensively, she asked, "Do you believe in God, Cristiano?"

"I do," he answered, "but I believe in myself more. I believe in people taking charge of their own fate..."

Rosa frowned slightly.

Was that belief what fueled his purpose?

To take charge of his fate by going after Vosa's boss?

With caution, she asked, "What is his name?"

His eyes sharpened. "Who?"

"Your endgame."

Cristiano let go of her hand.

"Do not worry about his name, Rosa," he directed, "we are still far from the finish line. For now, it is better if you do not know much about him."

Just like that, it seemed, his guard was back up again. Rosa didn't like being left in the dark, but she decided not to pry.

For now.

"I see."

Later, she would ask Harry about Vosa's boss.

Promptly changing the subject, Cristiano told her, "Anyway, I will be going to the Pigmalión tomorrow night."

"The Pigmalión?"

"It is a strip club in Salamanca."

Rosa grimaced. "A strip club, hein?"

She was very familiar with strip clubs.

At sixteen, after being transported from Morocco to Luxembourg alongside three other stolen girls, she had been put to work in one of Mesrine's clubs as a cocktail waitress. Then, at eighteen, Rosa was forced onto the pole to dance, to strip, and, later, to be fucked by the highest bidders in the secret backrooms of the club.

Cristiano nodded. "Yes—and I want you to come along."

"Why? Do you have another assignment for me?"

"Think of it as research for your next assignment."

Her brow furrowed. "Oh?"

He elaborated on his point, "I actually want you there for another reason."

"Which is?"

"To meet some colleagues of mine."

She pointed out, "But, then, they will see me with you. In public. I thought you valued... discrétion? I will not be as effective on my next assignment if others know we are working together."

"That is why," he returned, "you will show up at the club thirty minutes after me."

"Ah, I can do that."

Cristiano further instructed, "At the door, ask for a man named Esteban. He will bring you to one of the private lounges. My associates and I will already be inside. Approach me as one of the dancers. Stay close to my side and listen to my conversations with the others. Get to know them. But do not draw attention to yourself. I will pretend not to know you."

"Will Vosa be there?"

"No."

Rosa narrowed her eyes skeptically. "Is that all you want me to do? To be a pretty, little fly on the wall while I rub my tits in your face?"

He attested with a business-like nod, "For tomorrow, yes, that is all I want from you."

Easy enough.

"What about you? What are you planning to accomplish tomorrow night?"

"I need to repay a few... favors."

"Favors?"

"The diversion at Mesrine's warehouse," Cristiano replied with a wry expression, "came at a cost."

Rosa realized, then, that he had probably taken quite a hit to save her life.

How much money and time and resources had he sacrificed to save her?

She owed him big time. "Thank you, again."

Rosa intended to repay him with a favor as well.

If Cristiano didn't want sex from her, then, surely, she could thank him in a different way?

Rosa brainstormed some alternatives.

A nice Armani shirt?

A new Beretta?

A special discount on her next assignment?

"Do not thank me," Cristiano murmured, dark eyes growing even darker, "just—"

"What?"

He paused before offering her a lopsided grin. "Please show up tomorrow in that lacy black number you wore. From Marseille. I... liked it."

Did he, now?

Nevermind.

Sex was back on the table.

She knew just how to thank the man now. A scheme began to brew inside her wicked mind.

Rosa cast him a knowing look. "You... liked it?"

Shamelessly, Cristiano confirmed, "Very, very much."

She lamented in a dramatic fashion, "I would be happy to wear it again for you—if only I had brought 'that lacy black number' on this trip."

Disappointment clouded his features. "I see."

"But, tomorrow morning," Rosa offered sweetly, "I can go shopping for something else to wear."

His interest piqued right away. "Oh?"

She gazed at him through lowered lashes. "Would you like to join me?"

Her invitation whispered between them, promising good things to come.

"I suppose," Cristiano grumbled with a cough, "I could clear my schedule for an hour or so."

This naughty, little shopping trip would be her gift of gratitude to him. She would let him eye-fuck her to his heart's content.

"Très bien," Rosa affirmed, "it is a date."

"Then," he suggested with surprising swiftness, "we should go to bed."

"You seem eager, all of a sudden," she teased, "to sleep."

Cristiano reached over to brush his fingers through her hair. His gaze locked onto hers with a glimmer of adoration.

He murmured intently, "That is because you have given me something to look forward to tomorrow."

She drew in a quick breath.

Perhaps, he wasn't so bad at romancing a girl, after all?

She shuffled over to peck him on the lips. "Fais de beaux rêves, mon beau."

Sweet dreams, my beautiful one.

He kissed her back. "Sogni d'oro, Rosa."

There was something very innocent in their exchange of goodnight kisses. It didn't feel sexual at all. Instead, his kiss filled Rosa's heart with a lovely, gentle lightness she had never experienced with any other man.

A short while later, Cristiano turned off the lights, and they snuggled under the covers together. With a sleepy sigh, Rosa closed her eyes. She felt Cristiano's arm slide around her waist in the dark, resting there, holding her close. She burrowed into his big, warm, solid frame. Unlike the restless night before, now, she felt at ease beside Cristiano, tucked safely in his embrace.

Neither Rosa nor Cristiano had addressed it outloud. However, something deep and profound shifted this evening, propelling their relationship into uncharted territory. In a perverse twist of fate, Mesrine had been the one to bring them closer together. They were not quite colleagues, not quite friends, and not quite lovers. They had become a blurred combination of all the above.

Tonight, Cristiano had seen her at her most vulnerable and showed her nothing but kindness and respect. He carried her through the worst of her internal storm.

Tonight, Cristiano had also opened up to her about his plans and spoken to her as his partner. An equal whom he entrusted to help carry out his endgame.

For the first time in a long time, Rosa felt seen and valued by another human being.

During this fleeting moment before exhaustion pulled her under, Rosa realized something: Cristiano was inspiring her to feel again, to care again, to be human again.

It was a truly sweet feeling.

A deeply bitter feeling.

Intensely bittersweet—in the sense that it made her yearn for something far greater than the wretched life she had chosen.

❧

Hello there! It's me, your friendly neighborhood Alice. XD

This last chapter wraps up Rosa and Cristiano's current arc, so I'll be moving on to update some of my other stories for a bit. Please do give me a follow if you want to check out my other books. I can't wait to get back to Rosa and Cristiano, though. My spidey senses tell me that this next upcoming arc with the lingerie shopping and strip club scenes will be VERY rewarding for those of you who have been SO DAMN PATIENT for the smutty, fun times, hahaha!

As always, I lub you all so very much! I adore each and every one of your comments and the amazing, funny, supportive community of Wattpaders in this book! You are guys are DA BEST! <3

❧

Infatti, se ti scopo, forse non vorrò mai lasciarti andare.

In fact, if I fuck you, I may never want to let you go.