Rosalie paced across the dimly lit room, her footsteps the only sound cutting through the thick air. Francesco was behind her, silent, watching her every move with that familiar predator's gaze. She felt the weight of the vial in her pocket—the final piece of the puzzle. The weapon Thomas had entrusted her with, the thing that could bring Francesco down for good. But could she use it?
Francesco had extended his benevolent just around the time the formulation to destroy Francesco's mutation. Clementina had helped her connect with Thomas as she was too wounded to follow along with them.
Her mind raced, torn between her hatred for the man and the knowledge that he still had leverage. Her mother. He had kept her alive all this time, a prisoner in some hidden location, one he swore to reveal only if Rosalie played her cards right. How had she let it come to this? How had she allowed herself to be manipulated once again by the man who had taken everything from her?
