Collateral damage.

Those two words cut Rosa to the bone. They loomed overhead like blackened clouds. Cristiano's betrayal had yet to be confirmed, but its potential for chaos and havoc was already there. Like an incoming storm. Steeling her nerves, Rosa strove to stay calm. She refused to display weakness in front of Mrs. Vitale and Fabio.

Through no small effort, Rosa managed to keep her expression placid. Emotionless.

On the inside, though?

Dieu, how her heart was fragmenting into the most wretched little pieces. Rosa's consciousness felt like it was being tossed against a raging tide, engulfing her in a tempest of unrest.

Fils de pute. Son of a bitch.

How could Cristiano do this to her?

Rosa's pulse thudded like a drum.

How?

How?

How?

If everything that had been discussed in Fabio and Marcello's texts proved true, then—

The bastard had, presumably, lied to her from the very start. Cristiano knew about his sister and niece since Portugal. Which meant he tracked her down with every intention of using her and, worst of all, delivering her back to Mesrine from day one of their so-called partnership. His offer of employment had been little more than a clever, convenient ruse to mask his true motives.

In a fucked-up way, comparatively speaking, Mesrine was far more honest with his intentions—despicable and twisted though they may be. Unlike Cristiano, Rosa had always known where she stood with Mesrine.

He abused.

She endured.

He hunted.

She hid.

Their relationship could be likened to that of a cat and mouse. Mesrine was very much the kind of predator who got off on toying with his prey. A predator who ensnared prey only to release them so he could enjoy the chase a while longer.

Rosa had been wondering why Mesrine kept choosing to free her when he could've easily killed her. She scowled as clarity arrived, at last, dawning on her much too late. This entire time, Mesrine had been sending a very clear message. Rosa berated herself for being too thick in the head to realize it: The fucker wished to convey that, no matter how far she ran, he would be able to find her. And he wished to let Cristiano know that she was his for the taking. At any given time. In the streets of Madrid. Or in Cristiano's own goddamn flat in Cantanzaro.

She was sick and tired of being a puppet on a stage ruled by men. A painful ache clenched her chest. Rosa's head began to spin. Every shred of sanity reeled as her heart continued to break. She began to question everything about Cristiano. Rosa second-guessed every word, every touch, every kindness he had shown her.

One memory, in particular, struck her. Hard. Rosa recalled her assignment with Moulin. That day, Cristiano had helped her escape when Mesrine showed up, unexpectedly and unannounced, in her target's hotel room. That fateful day marked a turning point in their relationship. The day her deadened heart began to beat again. For it was the first time Rosa allowed anyone to hold her while she wept for Nijah. Cristiano had been so tender with her. So gentle.

Her breath hitched with an intake of distress.

Such a beautiful lie.

A beautifully crafted lie.

It seemed Cristiano saved her not because he cared for her as a man. Or valued her as his woman. In fact, it was beginning to seem far more likely that Cristiano intervened that day only because he didn't want Mesrine to snatch her away. He needed her to ensure the safe exchange of Sienna and his niece. At this, Rosa's thoughts veered toward a cesspool of shame and self-loathing. She felt like the world's greatest fool. Cristiano had been so convincing, and she had allowed herself to be swayed. Enough to forfeit her own life and follow him to Cantanzaro.

Bon sang! For God's sake!

To think—she trusted in such a con man.

To think—she still wanted to believe in his liar's lies. In his promises to treat her like his queen. So that they might set the world on fire. Just to watch their enemies burn.

Her cynic's mind knew better than to give Cristiano the benefit of the doubt, but, alas, Rosa's heart was no longer her own, and therein lay the tragedy. Her soul felt too dark and damaged to ever love another, but, if she were to ever love a man, then that man would be Cristiano De León. Without a shadow of a doubt. Rosa's shame and self-loathing intensified.

Why hadn't she followed up with Harry about Vosa's boss earlier?

Then, perhaps, the truth could've come to light before she had fallen victim to such lovelorn bullsh—

It was then a feminine cough interrupted Rosa's frenzied thoughts.

"Fabio tells me that you are not feeling well?"

Mrs. Vitale's voice drew her away from the madness within. Her eyes flicked toward the other woman. Rosa narrowed her gaze. Amber clashed with green. Rosa whispered in subdued tones, "Honestly? I feel like shit."

Between Cristiano and Mesrine, she no longer knew which of these two men was the greater villain in her story.

Cristiano with his heart-melting deceptions?

Or Mesrine's terrifying transparency?

"I am sorry to hear it," offered Mrs. Vitale in what sounded like genuine sympathy.

Rosa merely shrugged and grunted in response.

The beautiful doctor then went about her business to give Rosa a quick physical. Her demeanor stayed sure and professional. Yet, her touch felt light and gentle. It was... comforting. Surprisingly so. After taking Rosa's vitals, Mrs. Vitale turned to Fabio and instructed him to bring back some feminine hygiene products, aspirin, and melatonin pills to help her sleep.

Fabio gave the green-eyed woman a quick, obedient nod. The door clicked twice, opening and shutting, as he left the room.

They were alone.

Rosa studied the other female with unease. The fact that Mrs. Vitale was actually caring for her like an actual patient set Rosa a bit on edge. Her trust issues flared up.

"Do you treat all of your prisoners like guests?" Rosa growled with unmasked skepticism.

"I treat people the way they deserve to be treated," came Mrs. Vitale's diplomatic reply.

"What makes you think I deserve to be treated like a guest?" Rosa challenged, feeling oddly like a child testing her mother's patience. "You do not know me at all."

Mrs. Vitale turned to Rosa with a lifted eyebrow. "I know you better now than I did when we first met."

Skepticism clouded her amber gaze. "Doubt it."

"I've been busy."

"Doing what?" Rosa prompted curtly.

"More research on you, Miss Lenoir."

Rosa tensed up even while quipped in an offhand manner, "I do not know whether to feel flattered or frightened by your interest in me."

Mrs. Vitale smirked. "Probably a little of both."

Rosa sniffed. "Please, tell me, what have you learned about little, old me?"

The green in Mrs. Vitale's eyes sharpened instantly. "I understand you were born in Morocco."

Dieu.

Morocco.

Rosa's throat tightened with homesickness. She had already been on the verge of a breakdown. This mentioning of her motherland was almost too much. A swell of longing threatened to pull her under. Longing—for a simpler time. A time when the whole world wasn't trying to fuck her over.

She whispered, "Morocco was, indeed, my home. Once upon a time."

"Your real name is not Rosa Lenoir."

Rosa confirmed in a murmur, "No, it is not."

Mrs. Vitale gave a slight pause. "Life... hasn't treated you well. You have suffered more than your fair share of grievances."

"My story is a pretty fucked-up one," Rosa agreed.

A grimace stretched over Mrs. Vitale's lips. "But every fucked up thing I've learned about you is beside the point. I won't bore you with all the ugly details regarding your past."

Her golden-eyed gaze locked onto Mrs. Vitale. "What is your point, then?"

Mrs. Vitale watched her intently. "My point is... you survived."

Unable to handle such scrutiny, Rosa closed her eyes. "I do not want or need anyone's pity."

"I don't pity you," Mrs. Vitale countered. "Believe it or not, mostly, what I feel for you is... respect."

Harshly, Rosa snorted. "Why the hell would you respect someone like me?"

"Because you have held onto humanity despite the hell Mesrine put you through."

Rosa's eyes reopened. She scoffed, "I am a killer by trade. There is nothing human about me. Not anymore."

"You love him," Mrs. Vitale murmured gently, catching Rosa completely off guard. "That makes you human enough, doesn't it?"

Love... him?

Heart pounding, Cristiano's handsome face flashed before her mind's eye. Rosa's entire being rejected his visage even while her chest ached for something she refused to name. Cristiano didn't possess a heart and neither did she. Love wasn't an option for cold-blooded creatures like them.

Rosa glared at Mrs. Vitale. "With all due respect, doctor, you are gravely mistaken."

This green-eyed bitch didn't know what the hell she was going on about!

"No, you just don't want to admit that I'm right," insisted Mrs. Vitale, "I can tell. The only time your eyes light up is when you talk about him."

Wrinkling her nose, Rosa played dumb. "I am sorry. Who are we talking about again?"

Mrs. Vitale replied with the patience of a saint, "De León, of course."

"If I had a heart," Rosa protested, "he would be the last man I would give it to."

"You should certainly guard your heart well where De León is concerned. Men like him are full of hidden layers. Make sure you know what he really wants from you before you give yourself to him."

There was a blatant warning in Mrs. Vitale's words. Rosa couldn't help wincing. It sounded as though the other woman was fully aware of Cristiano's intentions to use her.

Just then, Mrs. Vitale reached inside her purse. She pulled out a flash drive and handed it to Rosa. "Here. Take this."

Surprised, Rosa accepted the small plastic stick even while she questioned whether or not the thing might explode in her hand. "What is it for?"

"Consider it a gesture of goodwill," Mrs. Vitale replied in a very vague manner, "from me to you."

Rosa balked. "The fuck?"

"Relax. There are no strings attached."

"Bullshit. There is no such thing as unconditional goodwill."

"Then, consider this my token of appreciation. For sharing your knowledge about Mesrine's plans regarding Monte's wedding with me. I believe you were being truthful, and I don't take your trust in me for granted."

Rosa thinned her eyes. "Again, I cannot help but question your so-called goodwill."

Mrs. Vitale rolled her shoulders, shrugging in an easy, elegant way, as she supplied, "You can choose to believe me... or not. But I'm being sincere. There was a time when I knew, all too well, what it felt like to be trapped in a life I never wanted."

"Do not pretend to understand me. We are not friends."

"You're right, we're not friends," echoed Mrs. Vitale. "But I see you as my equal. And, maybe, I see a little of my younger self in you as well. It makes me wonder what you might accomplish if someone were to free you from your past. As far as I can tell, you have been tied down by it for far too long."

Rosa furrowed her brow, not quite understanding where this conversation was headed. "Huh."

Green eyes drifted toward the flash drive in Rosa's hand. "That contains instructions, by the way."

"Instructions... for what?"

"If De León proves to be a good man, then you won't ever need it."

"Uh..."

"But if, in time, you decide that he isn't a good man, then, at least, you'll have a choice."

"A... choice?"

"To leave him and Mesrine behind, forever, and live a new life, not as Rosa Lenoir but on your own terms. You deserve a fresh start after everything you've endured."

Disbelief stunned Rosa. "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Because every woman deserves to forge her own path. Regardless of the cards that fate might deal us. This flash drive will lead you to someone named Eve Davies."

Scowling, Rosa clenched the flash drive in her palm. "Eve Davies? That is a horrid-sounding name."

Mrs. Vitale chuckled darkly. "Beggars can't be choosers. Anyway, I think you'll make better use of what Eve Davies can offer than I ever did."

"I am rather confused."

"You'll understand everything soon enough."

Rosa released a huff of annoyance. "You are not afraid that I might betray your... goodwill?"

"There's always a possibility that you'll fuck me over," Mrs. Vitale muttered, "and I'll pay you back tenfold if you choose to do so. But, for now, I prefer to believe in your humanity."

Rosa's expression softened ever so slightly. "I do not know whether you are full of shit. Or heart."

"Only time will tell."

"I guess," Rosa sighed as she glanced around her gilded cage, "all I have is time at the moment. I can be patient. And wait. And wait. I look forward to seeing your true colors."

Mrs. Vitale began walking toward the door. "Actually, you won't be here much longer."

Rosa's head snapped up. "What?"

"I didn't really come here to give you a physical. I came here to give you an update."

"What kind of update?"

Mrs. Vitale flashed her a tight smile. "As of this morning, De León has agreed to my terms. You will be free to go back to him, Miss Lenoir, once he brings my Alessio back to me."

Rosa gasped, "When?"

"Tomorrow."

***

Oh, ho, ho! Alice here. The plot thickens!

Who remembers "Eve Davies" from Diavolo? What do you think Mrs. Vitale is really offering Rosa on that flash drive?

Do we trust Cristiano with Rosa's heart? Do you think he's still planning to turn her over to Mesrine for his sister and niece?

Anywho, get ready for Rosa and Cris' showdown in the next few chappies! Three words: Angsty, angry seggs. I'm both dreading and dying to write the next arc for these two, lol. IT'S GOING TO HURT, AHHHH!!!