The next few days offered a much-needed distraction from the malaise of her emotional turmoil. Cristiano might rule her heart, but she'd be damned to let the bastard rule her head, too. Rosa Lenoir's rebirth as Eve Davies had to take precedence above all else. Losing focus would lead to losing this precious new life that had been gifted to her.

On the rare occasions Eve would step out in daylight to run "errands" for her upcoming plans, she dressed not to impress but to fade into the masses. Every look, every word, and every move had to reflect a whole new woman. Someone who was easy to ignore, thus, easy to forget. To the world, all traces of Rosa needed to be erased in order to fly under the radar. Moving like water. Existing like air. Only as a phantom could she find Sienna and Angelina before Cristiano or Mesrine tracked her down.

She had yet to hear from Cristiano and Mesrine, but her paranoia ran rampant. Rosa couldn't seem to make up her mind about whether or not she wanted Cristiano to capture her, but she often had nightmares about Mesrine closing in on her.

Until Rosa felt as ready to show herself, keeping a low profile would be a crucial part in outsmarting these men. It comforted Rosa to know that Mesrine and Cristiano were probably still in the dark about Eve Davies. If either of them was aware of her new identity and location, Mesrine wouldn't hesitate to haul her back, dead or alive, and Cristiano would've flown to her side in a heartbeat.

She intended to switch out her phone numbers and check into a new hotel on a weekly basis.

For two more days, however, Rosa intended to stay put, occupying her hours with meticulous preparations as though preparing for another hit job. Yet, unlike all of her past assignments, this particular assignment was deeply personal and vastly meaningly to her. It was completely self-assigned, after all. No one would be paying her. Like a fool in love, she was working pro bono.

Simply because it was the right thing to do.

Simply because she loved a man who had taken a bullet for her.

The contradictory nature of this complex emotion, love, had turned Rosa into a woman who was just as contradictory and complex. She became both soft and hard. As much as she yearned for Cristiano—so much so that it made her want to weep—the hardness in her wanted their separation to gut him, too. Rosa hoped the bastard would drive himself crazy, scouring every nook and cranny from here to Antarctica, trying to find her. Mesrine was probably ready to burst several blood veins now that he realized she had gone rogue. Yet again. Rosa prayed that her little game of hide-and-seek with these two seasoned killers wouldn't turn deadly.

Her expression soured.

On some level, Rosa understood that she'd probably fucked Mesrine over one too many times. Even if the monster wished to keep her alive for his own demented reasons, at this point, she'd left him no choice. He needed to save face in front of his men. He grew weaker in their eyes each time he forgave her. There was no doubt in Rosa's mind. She'd definitely end up as a body in a bag if Mesrine ever got his hands on her again. Perhaps, he was already planning to pierce a bullet through her skull at Monte and Mariposa's wedding.

Would Cristiano kill Mesrine if the monster took her life?

A fucking blood bath was the last thing she wanted right now. She hoped that Mesrine and Cristiano would behave themselves for a while longer. Rosa lacked the time and patience to deal with their blood on her Louboutins. Even though the soles were already red, she knew from experience that stains were impossible to remove. She didn't want Mesrine and Cristiano to wage war until Sienna and Angelina were safe, secure, and in her custody.

Fuck Mesrine.

Fuck Cristiano, too.

Sienna and Angelina were her priorities right now.

Perhaps, by saving them, she could atone for some of her past sins.

Perhaps, through their salvation, Cristiano might come to love her in the way she wished to be loved by him.

Already, she loved the way he understood her twisted mind, the way he worshipped her sinner's body, and, most of all, the way the demons in his soul seemed to mirror hers. Her wicked heart was his to claim once she believed he wouldn't betray it. Thus, Rosa craved his whole fucking sky. Not a measly star.

Love was meant to be infinite, non?

She wanted the courage to gift him every precious broken piece of herself and the privilege to cherish his damaged soul in turn.

Clinging to these convictions, Rosa started her day in the way she began all of her assignments. By wiring large sums of money to Harry. In return, he continued to give her access to his large network of intel, which she used to track down everything she could about Sienna and Angelina De León.

Rosa's investigations soon sent her to Germany for two days and back to France for three more days. She met her contacts in the dark alley ways of Frankfurt and seedy bars in Marseille and Grenoble. Travelling so much within such a short span of time was exhausting, but, at least, her efforts proved fruitful. Much in the way Cristiano was interrogating her old friends and foes, she met with many of the colorful characters that came into contact with Sienna and Angelina at some point in their lives.

Hardened criminals.

Pimps.

Sex workers.

Crooked cops.

Most of the people she interviewed remained tight-lipped until she slipped some cash into their pockets. Or pressed her Beretta to their temples. Usually, from there, it was like taking candy from a baby. From these willing, wagging tongues, Rosa managed to piece together a few key details.

Mesrine, Sienna, and Angelina never stayed in one location for more than a few weeks. For security purposes. Apparently, Sienna was borderline suicidal because Angelina always travelled with Mesrine. She ached for her daughter's return every fucking day. For some reason, he never let the girl out of his sight. He seemed obsessed with the child and forced her to go by "Nijah" instead of her given name. There were often ugly bruises and nasty cuts all over the girl's small, frail body. Whispers of explosive violence often came up in conversation.

Mesrine was probably using Angelina to keep Sienna compliant. The monster was not above exploiting a mother's love. Rosa's chest grew heavy right then because it hit a bit too close for comfort. He had used Nijah, the real Nijah, to manipulate her in a similar way.

Would Sienna end her own life, Rosa worried, if she lost her last shred of hope?

Very possibly.

Because she had contemplated the same dark thoughts after Nijah had passed.

Would Mesrine ever beat the girl to death, Rosa wondered, if she went against his will?

Oui.

Once the pros of killing her outweighed the cons of keeping her alive.

Whether that day came in a week, a month, or a year from now, such troubling knowledge made Rosa all the more anxious to find Angelina. The sooner, the better. The girl was being abused every moment she spent in Mesrine's presence. Rosa couldn't tell if Mesrine was deluding himself into believing that their daughter was alive. Or if he was doing this to brainwash the poor girl into believing that she was his flesh and blood.

It seemed Mesrine was clever enough to comprehend that his power over Cristiano was dependent on the nooses he kept around Sienna and Angelina's necks. The tighter the ropes, the less likely Cristiano would retaliate against him. Without these threats in place, there was nothing stopping Cristiano from going after him full force.

Rosa's mind started to spin as she contemplated her next couple of moves. She would need to retrieve Angelina from Mesrine's clutches before saving Sienna. Otherwise, Mesrine wouldn't hesitate to dangle Angelina in front of Sienna to lure her back into his clutches.

Ever since Rosa sent out the thank you card, she'd been working closely with Mrs. Vitale to make the necessary preparations at the Vitales' ancestral villa, which also happened to be the venue for the wedding. Mrs. Vitale's main concern was that the destructive nature Rosa's of plans might ruin her friends' special day.

After vowing to be as discreet and unobtrusive as possible, Rosa was finally given permission to carry chloroform and a switchblade on site. Her Beretta had been vetoed, though, sadly enough. She'd also be provided two guards capable of lifting and transporting objects that might weigh up to 90 kilograms. Finally, she'd have access to an empty room, which could be locked from the outside, for storage purposes.

Rosa's plans were, indeed, beginning to take shape, but she couldn't afford to be careless. Mesrine had personally delivered the fucking invitation to her, after all, so Rosa was certain that he was setting up some kind of trap. But the villa was also under the Vitales' control, which placed Mesrine at a huge disadvantage. Even though the last thing Rosa wanted was to play right into his hands, the wedding still provided the best odds at getting Angelina away from Mesrine safely.

Time wasn't on her side. Sienna and Angelina couldn't wait around for her to cook up a foolproof scheme. Mesrine was always on the move, and every new location would require weeks of recon before she could carry out a solid rescue mission.

Who knew if Sienna and Angelina would still be alive by then?

Setting her jaw, Rosa realized that she needed to get her ass to that wedding in Palermo no matter what. Despite the obvious risks, she refused to miss this window of opportunity. Rosa simply needed to find a way to cement strategies into reality. Thankfully, she already had Mrs. Vitale on her side. Together, they could set a trap around Mesrine's trap. She was sure of it.

For the rest of the afternoon, Rosa tapped into Harry's network to keep an eye on Mesrine and Cristiano's movements.

Mesrine was in Sicily with Angelina. They were getting ready to attend Monte and Mariposa's wedding.

Cristiano had been discharged from the hospital. His condition seemed stable.

Thank fuck.

Was Cristiano still planning to attend the wedding?

As always, she intended to find out and act accordingly. If he showed up, she'd have to wear a disguise. She certainly couldn't reveal herself to him as Eve Davies. Not until Sienna and Angelina were in the clear. But the possibility of breathing the same air as him, of sharing the same space, of being almost close enough to touch him, after being apart for so long warmed her heart with a deep sense of pining. Rosa had forgotten that she was capable of feeling such a formidable and debilitating emotion.

***

Rosa landed in Palermo on a bright Saturday morning. The city was fucking breathtaking, surrounding by endless blue skies as the Mediterranean shimmered in shades of cerulean beneath the sunlight. Sweat dampened her skin, but the sea breeze made the heat bearable. Even the weather knew to make today the perfect day for a Sicilian summer wedding. This wasn't just any wedding, after all. It was the event of the decade between two of the Vitales' closest friends and confidants. Monte and Mariposa had been the Vitales' trusted bodyguard for years.

Everyone who was anyone would be in attendance.

Everyone including Mesrine.

And Cristiano.

If Harry's intel wasn't wrong.

Rosa heart began to race.

Mesrine could go to hell, but was she ready to see Cristiano?

Oui.

Non.

Fuck.

What did she want from him?

Even now, Rosa didn't know how to answer her own damn question. Perhaps, it would be best to avoid both men and simply focus on making a beeline for Angelina. A run-in with Cristiano would only knock her off-balance with today's mission and destroy the newfound peace she'd so painstakingly cultivated as Eve Davies.

Anxiously, Rosa checked the time on her phone. One more hour until the ceremony began. She didn't enter with the other guests. Thanks to the key Mrs. Vitale had given her, she slipped through the backdoor of the massive villa. It was the entrance that the staff used. Rosa was dressed in the same uniform used by the catering company. A white dress shirt tucked into black trousers. She also wore a blonde wig to hide her dark hair along with a face mask that covered half of her face.

Rosa hurried through the kitchen, grabbing a tray of hor d'oeuvres as she headed out with the rest of the catering staff. They entered the main garden where the guests were arriving. Rosa shuffled around, offering them champagne and bites of caviar while they awaited the cue to take their seats. The ceremony would be starting soon.

Rosa took this opportunity to scan the crowd.

Right away, she spotted Mesrine standing in a group of men. The pale blonde hair. The pale blue eyes. She shivered despite the warm summery air. She surveyed the people around Mesrine. No sign of Angelina, but there were two bodyguards hovering close by. She recognized their faces. Rosa assumed one of the guards was for Mesrine. The other was probably for Angelina.

But where was the girl?

To get a closer look, Rosa strolled right in front of Mesrine with her tray, and he didn't even look her way. He was too preoccupied with the others to notice her.

Pleased that the disguise seemed to be doing its job, Rosa kept going, weaving in and out of the guests until—

A tall, dark, and handsome figure caught her eye.

Cristiano.

As though on cue, the live string quartet began playing Einaudi in the background. Their sweet, cloying notes struck her right in the heart. She couldn't pull her gaze from him. Her eyes dragged over his frame, searching for signs of injury. He looked strong. Healthy. If Rosa hadn't been the one who pulled the fucking trigger, she would've never believed that he'd been shot. The bastard cut a figure of perfection in his tailored black and white suit. His tattoos were peering out near the collar of his shirt. They called to her. She wanted to trace the devil-black ink with her fingertips while driving him mad with soft, teasing kisses along his neck.

Her mon beau looked beautiful, and he stole her fucking breath away.

Then, suddenly, he glanced in her direction. She froze with her tray in hand. For a split second, their eyes brushed past one another, and her heart nearly stopped. Heat warmed her skin as amber gold grazed devil-black. Her face was half-hidden. Her hair was different, too. Yet, he still held her gaze for a second too long.

Why was Cristiano staring at her?

Panicking, Rosa ducked back into the crowd. With quick strides, she retreated to the kitchen in case he tried to approach her. To calm her nerves, Rosa reminded herself that she was unrecognizable. Not even Mesrine had sensed her presence when she traipsed by him mere minutes ago.

But, Dieu, what if the eagle-eyed bastard recognized her just now?

Fuck!

Fuck!

Fuck!

She needed to find the girl and get them out before the chance slipped away.