During the murky, gray hours preceding dawn, Rosa lay wide awake in bed, staring at the cracks and peeling paint on the ceiling of the motel room. Sleep eluded her because she was still wrestling between a rock and a hard place—

Did she want to return to Marseille?

Or risk it all for Catanzaro?

Ultimately, Rosa didn't believe that Cristiano would let her walk away from him without a fight. She already knew too much about his plans, she met his goddamn team, and the burgeoning trust between them didn't feel strong enough for him to release her so completely, which meant that he was banking on her to choose Catanzaro no matter what.

To choose him.

She scowled slightly in the dark.

The arrogant bastard certainly had a high opinion of himself.

Her mind continued to buzz with unrest and uncertainty. This agitated state consumed Rosa as Cristiano slept beside her. His breaths rose and fell from his broad, muscled chest in long, deep drags. She glanced over to him, wrinkling her nose at his peaceful, slumbering face. It made her want to kick him, not very hard, but with enough force to let him know that she wasn't happy about being put in such a compromising position.

With a huff of frustration, Rosa rolled over to check her phone for the fifth time in the past hour. The clock kept ticking closer to 8:30 am. A choice needed to be made. Her future was still in limbo.

Something snapped in her.

Abruptly, she cast aside her covers and rolled off of the mattress. In quick, quiet steps, Rosa began to move around the room, grabbing her belongings and throwing them inside her suitcases.

Cristiano soon stirred from his sleep.

In low, groggy tones, his voice cut through the shadows, "What are you doing? Come back to bed."

Rosa didn't stop packing. "I need some fresh air."

Cristiano sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes. After blinking a few times, his entire countenance grew more alert.

He demanded, "Where are you going?"

She didn't know. "Out."

After a night of tossing and turning and feeling on edge, Rosa simply couldn't stay a moment longer with this man she desired above all others. With this man who also threatened her peace of mind above all others.

From across the room, their eyes met in the silver-kissed shadows of twilight. A stiff pause stretched between them.

"Will you come back?" he inquired in cautious tones.

Her movements slowed and then stilled.

Was she planning to come back?

The question was left unanswered in her head.

A series of harrowing thoughts seized Rosa, suddenly: Control over her own life became more important than anything else at the moment. Even her intense lust for Cristiano and the overwhelming depth of emotion she felt for the man paled in comparison. For years, men like Mesrine had wielded so much control over every aspect of her life. Her body. Her mind. Her adolescence. Her innocence. They had been the source of her sorrow and her fury. The price of independence had come at such a cost. She had literally killed for it.

In her heart of hearts, Rosa suspected that Cristiano was nothing like Mesrine, but she couldn't help feeling wary, nonetheless. He was still a man, after all. A man who wanted to possess her, exclusively. A man who would be her superior in every way if she were to follow him to Catanzaro. Unlike him, she didn't speak or understand much Italian. She had never been to Italy. She didn't have any allies there. Such unfamiliar territory would place her at a huge disadvantage. Rosa would be at Cristiano's mercy.

In time, would Cristiano try to control her, too?

"I do not know," Rosa whispered.

He grimaced. "I see."

Her bags were all packed now. She grabbed them in both hands and headed for the door.

"You are really leaving, then?" Cristiano's voice trailed after her.

Pausing, Rosa peered over her shoulder. "Are you going to stop me?"

Softly, he asked, "Do you want me to?"

Her emotions were running wild. She couldn't bring herself to respond. Cristiano emerged from the bed, then, and stalked towards her. Bare-chested. Wearing only his boxers. There was an urgency in his stride. Grimness filled his dark eyes. As they stood near the doorway of their motel room, his gaze searched her amber ones, fervently, as though he wished to uncover her answer in her eyes.

"Will I see you at the airport?" he pressed again.

Rosa stayed silent.

Cristiano took another step towards her. Both of his hands lifted to cradle her face. She sighed at his touch. It felt so good. His head dipped down to kiss her, whispering against her cheek, "I will be waiting for you."

The softness of his voice melted her heart.

But she hadn't survived her hellish past by being soft. She had survived by being selfish, ruthless, and heartless. She had survived by always looking out for number one and knowing when to cut her losses and get the fuck away from men who wanted too much from her.

Rosa decided to use her words to steel her emotions against Cristiano, to hold onto her good sense instead of giving into unreliable, romantic whims.

Arching her eyebrow, she challenged him, "I thought you were planning to leave with or without me?"

A fierce gleam sparked in his eyes.

He growled, "You and I both know that I would prefer to leave—with you."

Something else inside her cracked.

Her heart melted some more.

Foolishly, Rosa felt powerless against his words, helpless before the passion in his voice. In an act of compulsion, she rose on her toes to kiss him, softly, on his right cheek, lightly, his left cheek, and finally, deeply, on his lips. He groaned against her mouth and tried to draw her closer.

As though to hold her in place.

As though unwilling to let her go.

Pulling away, she mumbled sincerely, "I do not know what I plan to do yet, but, whether you leave with me or without me, I am happy to have met you, mon beau. You are unlike any man I have ever known."

As Rosa turned away, his hands shot out to catch her waist. "Wait."

She glanced up anxiously. "Yes?"

Cristiano's handsome features appeared pained as he rasped, "If this is goodbye—"

His arms came around her. He crushed her to his chest and ducked down to kiss her once more. At first, his lips tasted like first love. Soft, gentle, sweet. Then, his fervor intensified. It grew anguished.

Like heartbreak.

Like lovers sharing one last kiss.

He sucked on the fullness of her lower lip. His tongue slid into her mouth. He kissed her until time froze between them. Air escaped her lungs as his mouth and tongue teased and tormented her without restraint. Their kiss became one of desperation. All desire. All pleasure. He gave her his all.

Like a man in love.

A man with everything to lose.

They were both breathless and panting when their lips parted at last.

With a slight flush on his cheeks, he cleared his throat. "Has David emailed you a copy of your plane ticket?"

She nodded. "Oui."

"I will be waiting, then," Cristiano said again in a hoarse voice.

Rosa gazed deeply into his eyes. "Au revoir. For now."

Then, she was out the door with her suitcases in tow, and he didn't stop her.

As Rosa exited the motel and stomped down the streets of Ciudad Lineal district, she felt all out of sorts as she searched for a cab to take her somewhere, anywhere, to clear her mind.

Maybe a nearby park?

She scanned her surroundings. There was a high rise apartment building to her left, made of red brick and concrete, and a row of small shops and cafes to her right. The streets and sidewalks were quiet. Empty. It was barely 5:00 am. It was going to be hard to find a taxi at such an early hour.

Her chest began to carry a dull ache. Rosa felt as though she had left a piece of herself with Cristiano. She wanted to be with him, but she didn't know whether or not he could be trusted with her heart.

It was then a stroke of inspiration struck Rosa.

The bastard had always been so keen on testing her.

Maybe it was time for her to give him a taste of his own medicine?

Right then and there, Rosa decided not to meet Cristiano at the airport. She would, instead, return to Marseille for a month and wait to see if he was a man of his word. If the man left her alone, as he promised, then she would buy her own damn ticket to Catanzaro and reunite with him next month. If he came after her with blackmail and threats within a month's time, however, then she would know that he never deserved her in the first place.

Once this idea took hold of her, Rosa's steps instantly felt lighter. She wanted to pat herself on the back for being such a clever bitch. Granted, she recognized the risk involved with her plan. There was always a possibility that Cristiano might not want her anymore in one month's time, but it was a risk worth taking in her opinion. This path forward felt smarter and safer than the alternatives: Going back to Marseille and losing Cristiano forever. Or going to Catanzaro and putting herself in a dangerous and detrimental position.

By doing things her way, she could, potentially, have it all as long as Cristiano proved himself to be a worthy man.

Lost in her thoughts, Rosa almost didn't hear the thump-thump-thump of approaching footsteps to her six. Her brow furrowed with concern. Rosa's state of sleep deprivation left her feeling a bit more muddled and distracted than usual.

There hadn't been a single soul around the premises.

Right?

Rosa heard the thump-thump-thump once more.

Until now, apparently.

She gave a quick glance over her shoulder. About twenty feet behind her, Rosa spied a short, husky man in a gray hoodie. She took a hard right at the next intersection. He took a right as well. Five minutes later, she took a left. He took a left, too. She snuck another look his way. He was talking on the phone now. Alarm surged through her.

He was clearly stalking her.

Who was this fucker?

Was he trying to mug her?

Rape her?

Or had he been sent by someone with even more complex and deadly motives?

Her gaze narrowed sharply. The sun had yet to fully rise. It was still too dark to make out his features, especially under the shroud of his hood. Rosa quickened her stride. Her Beretta was packed away in her suitcase. She didn't want to stop to pull it out. It might give the stranger a chance to catch up to her.

As though on cue, a cab emerged from a small alleyway. Relief rang through her body. She quickly flagged it down and got inside with her luggage.

The moment she settled into the backseat, however, Rosa cursed aloud, "What the hell?"

Both of the back doors popped open again. Two large, bald men jumped into the vehicle along either side of her, shoving her roughly into the middle seat and holding her arms down as though she was their prisoner. Then, the safety locks on the doors clicked on all at once.

Fuck!

Fuck, fuck fuck!

Her dumb, sleep-deprived ass had walked right into a goddamn trap.

Rosa's face froze with shock and fear as she stole a look at the driver with silvery blonde hair.

She caught a glimpse of his eyes in the rearview mirror. They were a pale blue. A very pale and recognizable blue.

Ice gripped Rosa's veins as an all too familiar voice drifted towards her, "Longtemps sans voir, Inès, ma moitié. Je vois que tu es revenu d'entre les morts."

Long time no see, Inès, my other half. I see you have returned from the dead.