The damning message glared back at Rosa. Full of deadly promise. Like staring into the barrel of a loaded pistol. Such tension felt reminiscent of the cab ride in Madrid when his men had nearly shot her through the skull.

You promised that you would not betray me again, my other half.

Rosa understood all too well how his mind operated. She knew he had chosen his words carefully. With intention. Every fucking syllable was meant to terrorize.

You lied.

His approach wasn't so different from a serial killer selecting the perfect weapon to torment his next victim.

Now, you must die.

But Rosa's pulse didn't quicken. Her blood didn't run cold. Golden eyes narrowed sharply. She withheld the urge to scoff. At this point, threats on her life were predictable. Uninspired. Positively rasoir.

Boring.

For the first time ever, he failed to rattle her. The twisted fucker might be able to scar her flesh. He might even snap her bones. But never again would she allow him to touch her spirit. Rosa's resolve stood firm. Something incendiary had sparked in her since arriving in Catanzaro. The world had shifted on its axis. Cristiano knew about Nijah. She knew about his tragedies, too. It compelled Rosa to relinquish her "fuck-it-all" philosophy, and, for once, actually give a fuck. Together—they were going to become a goddamn force. Vengeance was theirs to grasp. It was entirely possible to seize the heavens and walk through hellfire. Rosa felt invincible. Even if her newfound courage bordered on recklessness.

What was life if not a game of risk and chance?

Indeed—this time—all she carried was a wary kind of anxiety. No fear. Just anxiety. Anxiety over how a monster like Mesrine could be destroyed.

Would it be possible for a nobody like her to unseat an all-powerful crime lord like him?

Before, Rosa simply had to outrun Mesrine. Now, she'd be forced to outthink him. Outplay him.

Did she have it in her to take down a monster?

What if, by the end of her crusade, she ended up even crueler and more fucked up than him?

Rosa didn't know how to answer this disturbing question, but she intended to discover where this dangerous rabbit hole might lead her. More than anything, she wished to wrench back the power Mesrine had stolen from her. Rosa intended to raze his empire to the ground and watch him seethe in agony as she crushed his throne beneath her stilettos.

Her thoughts continued to spin, spin, spin. Rosa's confidence wavered slightly as she read Mesrine's text one more time. Her mouth set in a grim line. In less than twenty-four hours, she narrowly escaped Mesrine's clutches in Madrid only to be targeted by him again in Catanzaro.

How the hell had Mesrine managed to uncover her betrayal, anyway?

As far as he was concerned, she was supposed to be back in Marseille. Gathering intel and plotting against Cristiano like a good, little moucharde. Snitch.

Rosa snuck a troubled look in Cristiano's direction.

Had he misplaced his confidence in Marcello's tech-savvy?

It wasn't unthinkable for Mesrine's men to, somehow, hack through the protections Marcello had put in place on the burner phone.

Right?

Rosa's suspicions took a darker turn.

Or, perhaps, Cristiano hadn't misplaced his trust in Marcello's abilities.

Perhaps, he had misplaced his trust in Marcello himself.

Cristiano's entourage were the only ones who had been on the private jet with them, which meant they were the only ones who had been privy to this ruse they had created for Mesrine.

A red flag fluttered through her mind.

Had one of them betrayed their plans to Mesrine?

Could Marcello be trusted?

What about Clarisse?

Giorgio?

Evita?

Rosa's eyes locked onto Cristiano. For their sake, she hoped that they were loyal motherfuckers. Cristiano was still on the phone with Marcello. His expression was growing increasingly tense as their conversation dragged on.

She heard him growling quietly into the receiver, "Credi... Clarisse... ci abbia tradito?"

Rosa couldn't quite decipher his Italian, the bastard was speaking too damn fast, but she had most certainly latched onto a very recognizable name—Clarisse.

Was Clarisse the one who had let the cat out of the bag?

Quelle ironie. How ironic.

Especially coming from a bitch who swore that she would take a bullet for Cristiano.

Rosa arched an eyebrow at Cristiano when he finally hung up the phone.

She prompted, "Well? What is the damage?"

Cristiano scowled. "Mesrine... knows."

Grimacing, she flashed Mesrine's text at him. "I am aware."

Cristiano glanced at her screen to skim the message. "Fuck."

"So... who dropped the ball?" she prodded quietly.

"Marcello claims that Clarisse may have been working for Mesrine. On the sly. For months."

"Do you believe him?"

"I never take anyone's word at face value," he murmured.

Rosa caught onto the meaning behind his words. "You do not trust Marcello?"

Cristiano didn't hesitate to reply, "At the moment, I trust Clarisse more."

His response surprised her.

Was her mon beau showing favoritism toward the bitch?

Did he have a soft spot for her?

"Why?" demanded Rosa.

Cristiano didn't mince his words. "Because Clarisse is not as ambitious as Marcello. Nor is she half as bright."

Ah, peu importe. Nevermind.

He simply believed that she was too débile to cause trouble. Moronic.

Rosa blinked. She didn't know whether to feel amused by Cristiano's lackluster opinion of Clarisse. Or distressed by his lack of confidence in Marcello. At present, Cristiano appeared to be suggesting that Marcello was the traitor among them.

She inquired, "If you sensed Marcello's character was questionable, why did you let him into your inner circle?"

He sighed. "His technical skills were necessary to my agenda. At the time. I did not have a choice but to turn a blind eye to certain red flags. Giorgio and I have monitored him like hawks, though."

"Has Marcello ever fucked you over in some way?"

"No. He has delivered results on every assignment I have given him. Consistently. But I have always suspected that his loyalty lies... elsewhere."

Elsewhere?

"You think he is loyal to Mesrine?"

Cristiano shook his head. "Not Mesrine."

Rosa pressed him, "Then... who?"

"As I have mentioned before, Marcello was once employed by the Vitales."

"The Vitales, hein?"

"Sì."

She gave a pause. Rosa wasn't too familiar with the Vitales, but, even in France, she had heard of their exploits. Drug trafficking had been their main source of income. The Vitales' influence was based in Palermo, and, in their clan's heyday, anyone who was anyone needed their blessing to do business in Sicily. If Marcello was secretly working for the Vitales, then their plans going forward were about to get very complicated and messy.

Concern shone from her eyes. "Is Marcello still in contact with them?"

Cristiano gave a curt nod. "I believe so. Giorgio has found evidence of communication on his phone. Nothing alarming. Or suspicious. Although, we have yet to confront Marcello about it."

Paranoia surged through her as she demanded, "Do you have reason to believe that the Vitales wish to sabotage you through Marcello?"

"Sì."

Her amber eyes grew wide. "What do the Vitales have against you, mon beau?"

"From what I understand, Alessandro Vitale is not fond of De Leóns."

"How does he know that you are a De León? I thought your past was supposed to be a secret?"

"It was supposed to be a secret. But..."

"But?"

"If Mesrine knows about me," Cristiano muttered, "then Vitale probably does, too. Men like them have a talent for dragging out skeletons from the closets of their rivals."

Rosa frowned. Deeply. "I see."

This didn't sit well with her. Their list of enemies kept growing. Enemies with hidden motives who seemed to know far too much about Cristiano Ma—

Non.

Not Massera.

Cristiano—De León.

"What does Vitale have against the De Leóns?"

His expression turned grim. "I am not entirely sure. Our clans were once allies, but, now, there is bad blood between us. Because Vitale killed my uncle, Aberto De León, at his father's funeral, and his stepsister shot two of Aberto's sons at the same fucking funeral."

Damn.

Usually, there was only one dead body at a funeral. The Vitale clan clearly didn't fuck around with their adversaries.

To ease the tension, Rosa reminded him in a joking manner, "I also have De León blood on my hands—"

She was, of course, referring to her hand in sending Gaspare De León to an early grave.

Smirking, Rosa proceeded to ask, "Do you think Vitale and his stepsister will take a liking to me?"

Cristiano's expression grew hard. He warned, "Do not underestimate the Vitales, Rosa. It could get us killed."

She scoffed. "Oh, please! Julien Mesrine already wants my head on a spike. Alessandro Vitale does not scare me. A bitch can only be killed once, you know. Not twice."

Still, he insisted, "Vitale is not Mesrine. Mesrine does not hold back. He attacks like a tank. He likes to strongarm and bludgeon his enemies into submission. Vitale uses a lighter touch. He has a way of nudging his victims toward their own demise."

Rosa pursed her lips and praised with reluctance, "Clever bastard."

"He is certainly not stupid," Cristiano concurred. "After Vitale inherited his father's empire, he chose a different path."

"A different path?"

"He built an empire outside of our world. Everyone expected him to fail. But he thrived against the odds. Vitale is no longer capo of his clan. Yet, his power and wealth continue to grow, nonetheless. This alone tells us that we must proceed with caution in regard to Vitale. He is unpredictable."

Rosa wrinkled her nose. She didn't like the hint of admiration in Cristiano's voice as he spoke of Vitale. This Alessandro Vitale character was beginning to get on her nerves. Vitale had to possess some kind of weakness. All men had weaknesses.

"Is he married?"

"Sì. To a Graviano, no less."

Cristiano had uttered "Graviano" as though it was a sacred name. But it meant nothing to Rosa.

Darkly, she suggested, "Maybe we can target his wife if he decides to give us trouble?"

"I do not know if threats will work against his wife. I hear she is a formidable character as well."

Rosa resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

How formidable could a pampered mafia wife be?

"I do not know how they did it, but the Vitales have managed to distance themselves from our way of life. Without losing their lives. Or their riches."

"But this works in our favor," Rosa pointed out. "If Vitale has vacated his former role as capo, willingly, why does he care whether or not you are a De León? The pissing contest between your clans should be water under the bridge by now. Your existence no longer matters to him."

A brooding look crossed his handsome features. "And, yet, Mesrine found out about you. Marcello was the one who set up the burner phone. His attention to detail is unmatched. His handwork is undetectable. It should have been damn near impossible for anyone to hack through any systems that Marcello set in place."

Sharply, Rosa murmured, "Unless, of course, Marcello wanted them to break his code..."

"Exactly." A shrewd gleam glistened in Cristiano's devil-black eyes. "Which is why I believe I do matter to Vitale. I just do not know why. Yet. Marcello has never tried to betray me—"

"Until now, presumably?" she interjected.

"Until now, presumably," Cristiano confirmed.

This raised an interesting point. The gears inside her head began to turn.

Rosa hummed, "Then, it all boils down to Marcello, non? If he was the one who fucked us over with Mesrine, it is clear Vitale is definitely out to get you."

Cristiano grunted in agreement. "If Marcello betrayed me, I want to know why, out of nowhere, Vitale is trying to pit me against Mesrine."

Rosa remarked, "You seem very convinced that Marcello and Vitale are the guilty party here."

"You do not think so?"

She decided to play the devil's advocate, "What if you are wrong about them?"

"What if I am?"

"Have you considered questioning Clarisse? Giorgio? Or Evita? They know about Mesrine and the burner phone as well. Do you really trust them more than Marcello?"

"I trust Giorgio with my life. If Marcello proves to be innocent, I would suspect Evita before going after Clarisse."

"Huh," was all Rosa supplied even though her mind was racing at lightning speeds.

She did her best to process everything Cristiano had revealed about his entourage. Seconds later, Rosa arrived at the following conclusions: Giorgio appeared to be Cristiano's righthand man and the only member in his inner circle that he trusted in full, Clarisse was trustworthy simply because Cristiano didn't view her as a real threat, and Evita and Marcello appeared to be valued for their skills, but their motives and loyalty were in question.

Rosa coughed. "In my opinion, everyone is guilty until proven innocent."

He shrugged. "Once the truth comes out, it will not matter which one of them is at fault. You and I must deal with Mesrine, regardless. None of this is personal. I am simply trying to analyze the obstacles that may need to be... addressed... or removed altogether... before we start fucking with Mesrine."

Rosa's amber eyes flickered with understanding. "So, you still insist on investigating Marcello before the others?"

"Sì, I intend to investigate Marcello without letting him know that I suspect him. I will need your help."

Rosa nodded. "Of course."

"I want you to learn more about Vitale's motives and plans."

"I know exactly who I can call to help me with this task."

Her old friend, Harrison Murray. The former MI-6 operative.

Cristiano frowned. "Can this person be trusted?"

Rosa didn't rely on many people in her life, but Harry was one of the few individuals who had proven himself to her time and time again over the years.

She affirmed, "Oui."

With a pained look, he sighed, "I... trust your judgment, then."

Right away, Rosa sensed how difficult it had been for Cristiano to relinquish control. To her. His trust felt like a gift.

Softly, she vowed, "I will not let you down, mon beau. I promise."

He whispered, "I believe you."

"What will happen after we know more about Vitale's intentions?"

"I will determine whether or not we can ally with him. Against our enemies."

"Enemies... like Mesrine?"

"Exactly like Mesrine."

"Or—"

Rosa grew tense. "Or what?"

Cristiano smiled a chilling smile. "Or if I need to send you to Palermo. To remove Vitale and his Graviano wife from our path. For good."

***

Credi... Clarisse... ci abbia tradito?

You believe... Clarisse... betrayed us?