Rosa's phone chimed, loud and clear, amid the deafening silence of the flat. She checked the screen. There were three unread messages and one unanswered call from Cristiano.

Fuck!

He must have sent them after she lost consciousness.

Yet, it was the newest text on Rosa's phone that caught her eye, the one that hadn't been sent by Cristiano: Rest assured, you are only alive right now, ma moitié, because I have decided that your traitorous ass may still be useful to me. Prepare to attend one last wedding.

It was him again.

A chill settled over her skin.

Rosa stared in morbid fascination at the invitation in her hands then back at Mesrine's latest threat. She was shocked that he was willing to keep her alive and use her one last time.

Surely, he no longer trusted her after learning about her betrayal?

There had to be a catch. A deadly one. The fact that he hadn't killed her outright felt unsettling. So out of character for him—

Just then, a barely audible shuffling noise captured Rosa's attention, interrupting her frenzied mood. It was coming from outside the bedroom. The faint thumps sounded like footsteps. Rosa froze with fear. Mesrine's text had claimed he would keep her alive until the wedding, but it could very well be a misleading diversion, a red herring of sorts, to throw her off balance. The footsteps grew more noticeable as they came closer to the bedroom.

Had Mesrine's lackeys come back to finish her off?

With a strained expression, she snatched her Beretta from the ground and gripped it tight. She slipped behind a corner and, come what may, steeled herself to fight to the death—

"Rosa?"

Instantly, she recognized the timbre of the deep, gravelly voice. Surprise and relief bloomed in her. It was Cristiano. Rosa tried to answer him, her lips parted in an attempt to speak, but her voice was no longer hers to command. Too much had happened in the past few hours. She had yet to wrap her mind around the insanity. A sudden wave of hysterics overcame Rosa as a girlish voice screamed inside her head.

Maman!

Distraught amber eyes and a frightened little face taunted her.

The visual would be forever singed in her mind's eye.

Who was that child in Mesrine's video?

Rosa's temples ached as she tried, for the hundredth time, to assure herself that the amber-eyed girl wasn't Nijah. If it had been Mesrine's intention to drive her a bit mad, then the fucker was definitely succeeding at his game. She remained fixated on what he had said in his video.

Nijah and I are planning to attend a very special event in Palermo. I hope you will be able to join us.

Was he still planning to bring Ni—

Non, non, non, not Nijah.

She drew in slow, deep breaths to calm the hammering of her heart. Peace never came. Anguished uncertainty over the girl's true identity continued to torment her.

Cristiano's voice soon bellowed through the flat, growing increasingly more panicked with each passing second.

"Rosa?"

Deep breath in.

"Rosa!"

Out.

When the heaviness clenching her temples finally eased, Rosa called out, "I am in here, mon beau."

Gun in hand, Cristiano stormed into the bedroom with a look of unabashed distress on his face. His dark eyes darted to the puddles of crimson on the floor and back to her, gasping in a tense whisper, "The blood—"

"It is not mine," Rosa assured him in a weary voice. "What are you doing here? I thought you would be back... later."

Cristiano grunted, "When you did not answer my call, I had to come back."

She frowned. "You were worried about me?"

He glared at her as though she was being thick in the head. "Of course."

Her body was still buzzing with adrenaline. It was hard to think clearly. "Were you able to finish your business with Giorgio?"

"Not yet."

"What were you doing with him?"

"Looking into Marcello's ties to the Vitales," he muttered.

"Did you find anything... substantial?"

"We hunted down one of Marcello's old associates. A dealer named Leo. He claimed that Marcello is still in correspondence with the Vitales. But the fucker insists that Marcello has not done anything to sabotage me."

"Do you believe him?"

He gave a non-answer, "I left Giorgio to finish the interrogation."

"One on one?"

"Sì."

Rosa stifled a shudder. Cristiano had said it himself. Giorgio knew how to kill a man with his bare hands.

For a moment, she wondered if Cristiano had given Giorgio orders to maim Leo if he didn't surrender to their line of questioning?

Anxiously, Rosa pressed, "What will you do to Leo and Marcello if they turn out to be Vitale's men?"

Would they kill Marcello if he proved to be a traitor?

His black gaze connected with her amber one, but he didn't answer her. Cristiano's expression turned grim. The man's silence spoke volumes.

He quickly changed the subject, "I checked the premises just now."

Evasive bastard.

She wouldn't be surprised if Leo became a corpse by tomorrow morning.

Rosa arched an eyebrow. "And?"

He set down his Beretta. "The condo is empty. We are safe. For now."

Mirroring his movements, Rosa set down her gun as well and stated in a far calmer manner than she felt inside, "Good to know."

Cristiano's jaw ticked. "Good to know? Is that all you have to say to me?"

Rosa's thoughts began to swim away from her again. This whole fucking day was making her feel somewhat deranged.

Maman!

Maman!

Her pulse skipped two more harrowing beats. "Oui."

His hands clenched at his sides. Cristiano appeared to be wound up so tight that Rosa thought he might snap. "What happened while I was gone?"

Rosa felt as though she might snap as well.

Were they safe?

Reality suggested otherwise. The condo was a mess. The masked men could have easily killed her. Rosa knew that she was alive only because they had chosen to spare her. This was the second time Mesrine had let her go. It was unsettling.

Why did he want her at Mariposa and Monte's fucking wedding so badly?

Apprehension lodged in her throat. She struggled to answer Cristiano, "Mesrine sent two of his men here. I shot one of them. The second one drugged me. They were both gone by the time I regained consciousness. I am surprised they let me live."

Guilt contorted his handsome features. Tightly, he demanded, "Did they... hurt... you?"

"Non, I am fine."

He let out a shaky breath. "Grazie a Dio..."

As the air exited his lungs, the bastard's somber demeanor, at last, softened. His gruff edges fell away. Without wasting another second, Cristiano strode over and gathered Rosa into his arms. He held her like his most treasured possessions. The force of his embrace made her heart swell with emotion. Cristiano's fingertips clutched tightly onto her skin, desperately inspecting every part of her body as though he needed to confirm that she was, indeed, unharmed.

He buried his face into her neck. "I should have never left you alone."

Rosa tried to mask her fraying nerves behind a flippant scoff. "I am a big girl. You know I can take care of myself."

Grimacing, he pulled back and stared down at her. "When I came back and saw the busted door and broken lock, I-I—"

His voice caught.

"Yes?" she prodded in tepid tones.

"For a moment there," Cristiano confessed quietly, "I thought I lost you. Again."

Again?

She could only assume he was referring to the day Mesrine ambushed her in Moulin's hotel room.

And the morning he kidnapped her in Madrid.

Cristiano only seemed to appreciate her when he was about to lose her.

Feeling vexed with the bastard, Rosa shrugged. "If I die, I die."

His face fell. "Do not say such things. If anything happened to you, I do not think I could bear it."

"You would get over it. In time."

Cristiano glared at her. "We both know that is a lie."

Doubt drifted across Rosa's face. She thought of Mesrine's death threats. Rosa wanted to remain fearless in the face of danger, but today's near-fatal run-in with the masked men undermined her resolve.

Rosa mumbled, "Do not get too attached to me, mon beau. Who knows what fate has in store for me? I have escaped death too many times. Eventually, my luck will run out."

He held her tighter and vowed, "You have me now. I will not let anything bad happen to you."

Rosa quipped, "I almost died today, and you were not here."

She pointed this out without a trace of malice. It was simply a fact.

Yet, Cristiano's face darkened with guilt and remorse. "Dio, I was a fucking idiot for leaving you here alone. I will never be so careless again."

"My life is not yours to protect. Like I said, I am a big girl."

"Do you still doubt how I feel about you?" Cristiano demanded.

Rosa frowned and sighed. "Even after all this time, I still do not understand what drives you. You are hot. You are cold. I know I matter to you. But I do not know how much I matter."

He gave a pause. "I know I am not an easy man to trust. But, know this, Rosa, I value your life over my own."

Cristiano uttered this sentiment as though it could explain away the inconsistencies in his behavior and resolve the uncertainties in their future.

She eyed him intently. "Is that so?"

"How you make me feel," he admitted, "is frightening. I would rather die than lose you."

With a dark chuckle, Rosa brushed her lips across his cheek and whispered, "If it makes you feel better, you frighten me, too."

Groaning softly, Cristiano kissed her back. "Do I?"

She nodded. "I have felt empty inside for so long. I thought my heart died when I lost Nijah. But you have given me a sense of... purpose. I want to live again, and I resent you for it as much as I adore you."

He smiled a faint, knowing smile. "Are you falling for me, Rosa?"

She pursed her lips. "Is it even possible for a man like you and a woman like me to find... love?"

"Anything is possible," he murmured, "if we are willing to pay the price."

Such foreboding words.

He was right, though.

Love had no chance of surviving in a world as grim as theirs.

To his credit, Rosa believed that Cristiano had given as much of himself to her as possible. Yet, after everything they had confessed to one another, this crack in his armor no longer satisfied her. Rosa feared that she might be on the verge of giving her heart away to this beautiful, vexing, enigmatic man, and she was a greedy bitch. She craved more from him. So much more.

But did she possess the courage to love him?

Would he dare to love her back?

Probably not.

With a sigh, Rosa withdrew from his embrace.

Cristiano glanced at her with a worried expression. "What is wrong?"

She gazed back at him. "I wonder..."

"What?"

Feeling like a lovesick fool, Rosa wanted to blurt out: If you and I will die without ever knowing love?

But all she revealed out loud was, "Why Mesrine did not kill me when he had the chance?"

Looking troubled, he grumbled, "You sound disappointed."

"Not disappointed," Rosa countered, "I am simply concerned."

"About what?"

"His motives."

"Oh?"

She handed him the invitation. "Take a look at this."

His black eyes widened by a fraction. "A wedding invitation?"

"Oui," she confirmed with a nod.

He read over the details.

"This is not just any wedding," Cristiano growled. "This is a De León wedding, and the ceremony is being held at the Vitales' residence."

"I know," grunted Rosa.

"Where did you get this invitation?"

"Mesrine's men left it for me to find, and, for some reason, Mesrine wants me to attend the wedding."

"I thought he wanted you dead?"

"Apparently, he changed his mind."

Cristiano swore under his breath. "I cannot wait to gut that twisted fucker."

She shared the exact same sentiment. "What do you think Mesrine wants from us?"

"I suspect," Cristiano replied, "he intends to use this wedding to start some kind of war."

"Between you and the Vitales?"

"Most likely."

Rosa narrowed her gaze. "If it is a war he wants, then we will give him a fucking war."

Despite the fear that ruled her heart at the moment, the path forward was clear. She would need to take this declaration of war to personally deliver a bullet into Mesrine's skull before he could put one in hers.

He gave her a small smile. "What will you do? Show up at the wedding? With a loaded gun in each hand?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On Mesrine's intentions and whether or not the Vitales actually want you as an enemy—"

Within the same second, Cristiano's phone buzzed, distracting him in mid-sentence. He paused to remove his phone from his pocket. A grimace strained Cristiano's features as his dark eyes skimmed the screen.

"Is everything alright?" asked Rosa.

"Giorgio just texted me."

"What did he say?"

"Giorgio says," Cristiano informed her, "that he broke one of Leo's arms, but the fucker still claims that Marcello and the Vitales are being set up. By Mesrine. Like us."

"Do you think Leo is lying?"

He deadpanned, "Unlikely. Broken limbs have a way of bringing out the truth. Even in serial liars. But we should conduct some more intel before planning our next move."

Their survival was on the line, and the winds of fate kept changing directions.

First, Cristiano had wanted her to assassinate the Vitales.

Now, they were to become... friends?

Rosa had no choice but to lean into this new breeze.

"Does this mean," she mused, "that Vitale and his Graviano wife might become our allies instead of our enemies?"

"It seems," Cristiano stated with a calculating gleam in his dark eyes, "that is exactly what must happen if we are to take down Mesrine."