A surge of resistance twined with an old, familiar "fuck-it-all" mindset coursed through Rosa as she eyed Cristiano.

Her amber gaze grew sharp as she stared him down. Gone was her doting lover. Gone was the sexy bastard who had given her pleasure unlike any other. This was Cristiano Massera now. A man not to be trifled with. A dangerous man who might wield too much power over her—if she wasn't careful, if she handed him too much of her trust while he gave her next to nothing.

Rosa remained on his lap, but, right then, her spine straightened. Her muscles tensed. Her body no longer felt soft or pliant as she leaned against him. She might be going to Catanzaro to fuck Cristiano's brains out, but she refused to become his puppet or plaything in the process. Rosa wanted to be his equal. Anything less felt unacceptable.

At this point, after all that she had endured, after all that she had lost, there was no question in her mind: Rosa would rather die than land in another hellish prison like the one Mesrine caged her in.

Giving little thought to their agreement, Rosa decided to change the game plan, fearlessly, a bit rashly, like a small feline plotting to corner prey that was much too large for her tiny claws and fangs.

She cleared her throat. "You are right, mon beau. I have not been entirely honest with you about Mesrine."

Cristiano grimaced but said nothing.

Right off the bat, Rosa didn't pull any punches. "Do you know how I convinced him to trust me? To negotiate my freedom after his men trapped me in that cab?"

"I do not," he murmured.

"I asked him to kill me," she supplied with a dark laugh, "I told him, point blank, to pull the trigger if he didn't trust me. His men put their guns to my head. I thought I was going to die."

His olive-toned skin paled slightly at the implications of her admission. "What if—"

"What if he put a bullet in my brain?" Rosa interjected smoothly. "Then, I would not be sitting here with you, now, would I?"

"I am glad your gamble paid off," Cristiano commented hoarsely.

Sighing, Rosa continued, "Mesrine also forced me to kiss him. I wanted to vomit in his mouth, but I smiled like a whore and kissed him, anyway. Because he would have suspected my loyalty, otherwise."

Remorse flashed over his face. "I wish you did not have to endure what you endured with Mesrine, I cannot wait to make him pay for it, in blood, but...

"But?"

Cristiano had the audacity to gaze at her like a man in love. "You have no idea how relieved I am that you are alive. That you survived. That you found a way to come back to me."

His words melted her heart, but she refused to let emotion sway her resolve.

Rosa cast a piercing look in his direction. "I am curious to know..."

"Yes?"

In snippy tones, she asked, "What is it with you mafia men and your obsession with loyalty?"

With a pained expression, Cristiano tried to reach over to brush her cheek with his hand. As though he wanted to comfort her.

But she turned away from him. "Non."

His hand fell away. "No?"

"I will not let you touch me again until the playing field has evened out between us."

"That is not what we agreed on, baby," he chided gently. "This is my week. Not yours."

"Do not 'baby' me," Rosa scolded back with a dull, weary look in her eyes. "I am tired of playing these games with you men all the time."

Cristiano's jaw clenched as he picked up on her insinuation. "I am nothing like Mesrine. I would never—"

She interrupted him again, "You are not the only one with a lot to lose. I am risking everything to go to Catanzaro. You have withheld much of yourself from me. The real you. Who knows what you would and would not do to me? For all I know, one day soon, you might put a gun to my head and force me to kiss you against my will."

Her accusation brought a bleakness to Cristiano's eyes.

He muttered, "I have told you before and I will tell you again, I despise men who take advantage of women. Let me prove myself to you, Rosa. Give me time, and you will see that I am nothing like the others you have known."

She shrugged, unimpressed. "Or you can prove yourself to me now. I want to renegotiate our agreement."

Cristiano's expression grew taut. "But the rules have been set."

"You are the one who set the rules. Revise them."

"You have already agreed to play by my rules."

Rosa's jaw set. "I changed my mind."

"Oh?"

She drawled coolly, "I would be dead by now if I always followed the rules. Rules—are merely suggestions for bitches, like me, who wish to survive in a world run by men. Men like Mesrine. Men like..."

Her voice trailed off, but he completed the sentence for her, "Me?"

She smirked. "Maybe. Maybe not. You are suspect until proven innocent."

"I will show you that I am not Mesrine."

"Words mean nothing unless they are accompanied by actions."

Cristiano taunted, "What if I want to keep the rules in place? Everything I have achieved has been built on structure and discipline. Everyone knows me as a man of my word. This is why allies obey me. This is why enemies fear me."

Rosa huffed, "In that case, I will leave you and your stupid rules behind and find another way to fight my battles. On my own."

Alarm flickered in his dark eyes.

Tensely, his hand gripped her thigh. "What if you get yourself killed?"

She glared at him. "I do not mind dying on my own terms. I am only afraid of being forced to live under some bastard's rules, rules, and more rules."

Cristiano released a strained chuckle. "I cannot tell if you are the most troublesome woman I have ever met—"

He reached for her again, lacing his fingers between hers.

Rosa watched his movements warily.

Cristiano lifted her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss across her knuckles. "Or the most captivating."

Begrudgingly, she offered him a crooked smile. "Who knows?"

Despite the way he made her feel, despite the way her skin sang with pleasure from his kiss, she withdrew her hand from him.

"Non, non, have you already forgotten?" she admonished. "You must keep your hands to yourself until—"

Cristiano frowned in displeasure. "Until?"

"Until you are willing to share something substantial about your past," Rosa insisted softly, "something that will give me a reason to stay. I promise to do the same afterwards."

He arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Rosa nodded with absolute certainty. "It is only fair. I would like for this to be our new arrangement. You said so yourself back in Madrid. You were going to take me to war. You were going to treat me as your equal."

She tried to gage his reaction.

Cristiano appeared to be deep in thought.

Perhaps, she was asking too much of him?

He was a power-hungry criminal, after all, and she was nothing to him except a passing fancy.

Captivating, sure.

But also disposable.

In time, forgettable.

Throughout her twenty-six years of existence, Rosa had never forged an actual romantic relationship with a man. Relationships had been grossly one-sided. She had only been used and abused by her so-called lovers. She didn't even know if it would be possible to establish anything real with Cristiano. He was too bent in the head. Too obsessed with his end game. Rosa wasn't sure, either, if she possessed the strength to love another person. Ever. Her heart seemed permanently broken, shattered into a million pieces from losing Nijah.

But Rosa wanted to shoot for the moon and, maybe, land in the stars.

Because she had suffered too much with too many bad men for far too long.

Because she deserved more from Cristiano.

She deserved everything, and she was ready to walk away for good if he proved to be another version of Mesrine.

Several more beats dragged by, the engine hummed, voices hummed outside the cabin as well, and a pensive shadow continued to weigh on Cristiano's handsome features.

Rosa grew impatient. "I am still waiting for you to say something. Anything."

"You are not wrong," he finally mused aloud. "There will be war, and I do intend to treat you as my equal."

She quipped, "Lovely."

"Tell you what, Rosa," Cristiano offered quietly, "I will meet you in the middle."

Rosa tilted her head in suspicion. "How so?"

"In front of others, help me put on a show for my men. Continue our original agreement for a week. Everyone must see that I am initiating you the right way. Without cutting corners. Behind closed doors, though, we will do things your way."

"I am listening."

"I will share more of myself with you—if that would make you feel better about coming to Catanzaro."

Her ears perked up with interest. "Really?"

"Really."

Rosa glanced at the locked cabin door and observed, "Eh bien! I see a closed door, and we are behind it. There is no time like the present, non?"

A strange, haunted gleam entered his eyes. "Are you sure you want to know everything?"

Right away, Rosa recognized sorrow on his face. Much like her, this man had known tragedy. She was sure of it.

Trepidation flowed through Rosa, but, still, she answered, "Oui."

Was the bastard going to come clean with her at long last?

His next statement caught her slightly off guard. "There is a reason why I hate men who take advantage of women. There is a reason why I will never become such a man."

Rosa held her breath. She didn't press him. She waited for him to continue.

Cristiano's voice sounded deadened and distant as he revealed, "When I had just turned ten, my mother rushed into my room one morning. She told me to hide in a closet. Some men had barged into our home. We did not have time to warn my sister. Sienna was sixteen at the time. My father tried to stop the intruders. There was a crack in the closet door, so I could see everything, hear everything..."