Dead?

Critical condition?

Missing?

Rosa's heart drummed against her chest. With a shadow of guilt, her amber eyes lifted to meet Cristiano's dark gaze. His associates had all become targets, very possibly, because of her. Grim-faced and stoic, he stared back at Rosa without saying a word, but she sensed that their minds were racing to the same conclusion.

Without hesitation, Rosa asked, "Do you think it was Mesrine?"

"I have many enemies, so it could be anyone," replied Cristiano in a diplomatic manner, "but Mesrine is definitely on my list of suspects."

Mesrine definitely sat at the top of her list. The timing felt too coincidental. This "car accident" had to be tied to Mesrine somehow. Rosa's suspicions coiled around her like a suffocating vice. Marcello was a corpse. Clarisse and Evita were fatally injured. The driver had been kidnapped, unless—

Her mind took a sharp turn.

Unless—

The driver wasn't a victim?

Could he be one of Mesrine's moles?

Sharply, Rosa pointed out, "You mentioned that their driver was missing."

"Sì."

"How well do you know the driver? Was he a new hire?"

Cristiano's brow creased. "His name was Amadeo. Amadeo Orsini. He is not new. He has been with me for about a year."

A whole year?

Rosa frowned. "So, you trust him?"

"Amadeo is Vosa's cousin," Cristiano explained, "Vosa forced me to hire him. Amadeo has been keeping tabs on me for Vosa."

"He is Vosa's spy, hein?"

Cristiano nodded ruefully. "It was part of the agreement between Vosa and me. I have a few of my men spying on Vosa as well."

Rosa frowned thoughtfully.

Perhaps, Amadeo wasn't Mesrine's mole, then?

A new concern emerged. "Will Amadeo's disappearance cause problems with Vosa?"

In oddly unbothered tones, Cristiano confirmed, "Absolutely. He will be livid with me. Amadeo was like a brother to him."

She cursed, "Fuck."

He dipped his head in agreement. "Fuck, indeed."

"We will have to bring Amadeo back alive, then."

"We?" he repeated.

"Oui! I am your woman now, and you are my man, non?" Rosa declared passionately. "You and I are a team. I may very well be responsible for this fucking mess. Therefore, I am responsible for unfucking everything. I must help you save the ones who are still alive. The ones who can be saved."

Like Evita and Clarisse.

Like Amadeo.

May Marcello's soul rest in peace, she prayed silently.

"Is that so?"

She sighed in distress. "I suspect Mesrine's hand in their accident. It appears he has lashed out at us before we could strike at him."

Approval shone from his face. "I like the way your mind works. I knew I did not bring you to Catanzaro for nothing."

They needed to focus on resolving this catastrophe. Brushing aside his praise, Rosa stayed the course and exclaimed, "Pardon, but I disagree! You will most certainly regret bringing me to Catanzaro unless Amadeo comes back to us. Alive. Otherwise, your alliance with Vosa will be terminé. Finished. We need Vosa to take down Mesrine. You said so yourself."

Cristiano eyed her with a wry expression. "I am glad I did not misjudge you."

"What are you talking about?"

He smirked and said nothing.

She glared at him. "How can you be so calm? This situation is a fucking disaster in the making!"

Cristiano pulled out his phone and tapped something on the screen. She caught a glimpse of it. Her amber eyes narrowed by a fraction.

Why did it look like a video calling app had been... on?

What the hell?

"Attendez une minute," Rosa snapped at him.

Wait a minute.

A lightbulb clicked on. "Have you been sharing our conversation with someone else? This entire time?"

Denying nothing, he affirmed, "Sì."

"Who was on the other line?"

Cristiano's gaze darted toward his front door. He called out, "Get in here, you assholes!"

With wide eyes, Rosa's head swiveled in the same direction. A second later, the door swung open, and—

In walked Giorgio. Wearing his usual growly expression of disgruntlement.

And Marcello. Looking very much alive and not at all dead.

And Evita. Without a scratch on her person.

And Clarisse. Without a single hair out of place, either.

And Amadeo. Grinning like a motherfucker.

Cristiano arched his eyebrow at his associates while Rosa arched her eyebrow at him. For once, his expression seemed perfectly readable: He looked smug as hell. In fact, Cristiano looked as though he had won a bet of sorts. A huffy realization rammed into Rosa: She had been fucking played!

Her mind reeled with indignation. The "car accident" had been a ruse. A trick. A sham. A tide of aggravation surged in Rosa. Cristiano must have been laughing his ass off while she had been wrestling with guilt and stressing over Mesrine.

Rosa glared at Cristiano. He paid her no mind. Cristiano turned to the others and proclaimed, "I told you she could be trusted."

"You were right. I was wrong," Giorgio grumbled with a scowl. "Happy, now?"

"I never doubted your judgment, Massera," quipped Marcello.

Clarisse rolled her eyes and griped, "Leccaculo."

Marcello swiped back, "Why are you such a hater, Clarisse?"

Ignoring both Marcello and Clarisse, Evita smiled at Rosa. "You are a keeper, mia amata. I am glad you are one of us now."

Amadeo drawled, "Loyal bitches are hard to come by these days. Good on you for finding one, Massera."

Rosa wasn't surprised that Cristiano pulled this stunt on her. He had even discussed it with her during their flight from Madrid.

Everyone I trust has undergone an initiation of sorts. Usually, they are assigned a task. A hit. A job. A mission that proves their loyalty to me.

But she felt thoroughly peeved about his underhandedness, nonetheless.

How dare he deceive her in real-time?

She wanted to smack the bastard in his handsome face. In front of their company, however, Rosa forced a pleasant expression on her face. She smiled at Cristiano. Like a fucking saint. She willed herself to behave. To play nice. But, Dieu, she couldn't wait to get the bastard alone and give him a piece of her mind.

Eyeing the placid smile on Rosa's face with a wary look, Cristiano addressed her at last, "This will only be the beginning of your initiation. Be prepared for anything."

"I always am," Rosa cooed in nice saintly manner.

Clarisse snorted. "I would not be so confident if I were you."

Rosa clenched her jaw to keep her smile in place. Clarisse was starting to get on her nerves, but she had dealt with plenty of difficult bitches with nasty chips on their shoulders during her time in Mesrine's clubs. Rosa didn't consider Clarisse to be a real threat. Blondie was more of an annoyance than anything.

Rosa side-eyed the brown-eyed blonde. "Do you know why I am confident?"

Clarisse dragged her gaze down Rosa's body in a demeaning and blatantly critical manner. "Honestly? I have no idea."

"I am confident because I am loyal to Cristiano," Rosa shot back. "As long as I am a loyal bitch, nothing during this little initiation will make me stumble or fall. I am curious, though, why you want me to fuck up so much? My failure would only hurt Cristiano, you know."

Clarisse narrowed her eyes. "I hate people who talk in circles. What are you trying to say?"

Rosa winked at her. "I wonder if it is your loyalty that I should be questioning?"

"Ooh," gasped Evita. "Mia amata is a kitty with claws!"

Clarisse turned red in the face as she growled at Rosa, "Do not put words in my mouth. I have known Cristiano longer than anyone in this room—"

"Except Giorgio," interjected Marcello with a cheeky grin.

Giorgio grunted in solidarity.

Clarisse gave Marcello and Giorgio the evil eye before continuing to rail at Rosa, "Everyone here understands that my loyalty does not need to be questioned. Ever. I would take a bullet for Cristiano. He knows this better than anyone."

"I do not need you to take a bullet for me," Cristiano directed at Clarisse in a cold, authoritative voice. "What I need is for you to get along with Rosa."

"Seriously," Marcello muttered, "you are starting to give me a fucking migraine."

Clarisse's cheeks flushed redder still as she offered a quick apology to Cristiano.

"Do not take the shit Clarisse says too personally," Evita whispered to Rosa. "She is very sexually frustrated. The poor thing has been trying and failing to get into Cristiano's pants for years. She considers every woman in his vicinity as a threat."

For years, hein?

Despite her big fucking bone to pick with Cristiano, a wave of sheer female satisfaction washed over Rosa. Comparatively speaking, it hadn't taken her much time at all to get into Cristiano's pants.

Dryly, Rosa prompted Evita, "Does Clarisse also see you as a threat?"

"No, I am harmless in her eyes."

"Why are you so special, mon amie?" teased Rosa.

"Because she knows that Cristiano is not my type," Evita replied with a conspiratorial grin. She gave Rosa an appreciative once-over. "You, however, are absolutely my ty—"

"I assure you," Cristiano interrupted Evita sharply, "that Rosa is not your type."

Evita gave an exaggerated sigh. "What a shame."

Cristiano's devil-black gaze swept across each of his associates as he proceeded to drop a not-so-subtle hint, "You have seen where Rosa stands. Why are you all still here? There is work to be done."

"The boss is right," Giorgio chimed in, "we should get going."

"But Rosa is staying? Here? With you?" Clarisse griped at Cristiano.

Cristiano confirmed, "Rosa is staying. Here. With me."

"Have fun, boss," Marcello supplied knowingly, "but not too much fun!"

From there, Cristiano's associates exited his flat one by one. Clarisse was the last one out. The door closed behind her with a loud, angry-sounding slam.

Once Rosa was alone again with Cristiano, her smiling, accommodating demeanor instantly faded away. Her golden eyes grew hard and sharp as she turned to Cristiano. "I cannot believe you lied to me about Marcello's death. That was low. Even for you."

Fearlessly, he took a step toward her. "There is no need to be upset."

"Do I seem upset?" she taunted.

"You seem a little upset," Cristiano observed in mild tones.

"I am very upset," Rosa agreed, "even though I know why you chose to do it."

Cautiously, Cristiano reminded her, "You and I have an agreement, no?"

She didn't answer him right away. Taking slow, calculated steps, Rosa sashayed up to him, releasing a breathy sigh when her full, rounded breasts pressed into the hard, muscled wall of his chest. Seemingly unable to help himself, Cristiano gazed down at Rosa with unmasked desire in his dark eyes. She decided to take advantage of his lust. Standing on her toes, Rosa began to leave a trail of sweet, coy kisses along his jawline. Cristiano's hands found her hips with a low groan. He clutched her tight and drew her closer to his crotch. His cock was already rising to attention. It strained, hard, against her belly.

Très bien.

Rosa intended to show him the consequences for keeping shit from her. For outright lying to her about the car accident after she bared her soul to him. She hadn't forgotten what Mesrine said about Cristiano's potential ties to the De Leóns, either. It suddenly felt like the perfect time to fuck some answers out of him. To remind him that she was supposed to be his equal even when they needed to put on a show for others.

Her anger continued to simmer. Another grudge bubbled its way to the surface: Cristiano had toyed with her so mercilessly on the private jet. It was her turn to use his body as her playground. To dominate him. To make his cock beg for release. To deny him what he wanted until he gave her what she was owed.

Savagely, Rosa hissed into his ear, "You are right. We do have an agreement, and I believe this is the part of l'accord where I get to call the shots, and you become my little bitch."

***

leccaculo

ass licker