Page 73 of The Kiss that Captured a Billionaire
A beat later, the door slammed, and the lock slid home.
The woman was instantly at the door, pounding with her fists, her voice rising in another furious stream of Italian.
Rose waited until the tirade ebbed, then opened her eyes fully.
The woman turned.
There was no fear there. Only pure, unfiltered fury.
“This is all your fault!” she snapped in accented English.
Rose pushed up slowly, frowning. “Sorry… what exactly is all my fault?”
“You ruined everything!” The woman flung her hands up, bracelets clinking. “If you hadn’t wiggled your wares in front of Theo—if you’d just taken the hint after Gina went to the apartment—none of this would have been necessary! I wouldn’t be in this mess!”
Rose blinked. She was locked in a badly written horror show. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. What does Theo have to do with this? And how did you know about Gina being in the apartment?”
The woman’s lip curled. “Theo Kallistratos should have been mine.”
Ah, that explained the fury, if not the rest of the crazy.
Her runners sank into the thick cream rug beneath her. “And you are…?”
Up close, Rose took in more detail. The woman’s clothes—expensive but rumpled—looked like they’d been slept in. Her mascara had smudged faintly, but her peppermint-pink nails were immaculate.
The woman ignored the question, turning away to rub her cheek where the red handprint was already swelling. Her movements were jerky, defensive—like someone who’d been knocked off-balance and wasn’t used to it.
“Who are you?” Rose repeated, sharper this time, studying the woman like she might study a tiger.
Resentment flickered in the woman’s eyes, but something else too—a quick flash of embarrassment, maybe even shame—before she dropped her chin. Her shoulders trembled.
And then she started to cry.
Rose stared for a long beat, then let out a slow sigh.
Okay, emotional whiplash. But crying means she’s rattled… rattled means she might talk.
She stood, padded to the bathroom, and returned with a cold, damp washcloth. Wordlessly, she held it out.
The woman hesitated—pride stiffening her spine—before she took the damp cloth and pressed it to her cheek.
“Let’s start over,” Rose said, her voice gentler. “I’m Rose. And you are?”
The woman’s reply was tight, almost bitten off. “Allegra Rossi.”
“Rossi?” Rose repeated, the name clicking in her mind like a puzzle piece sliding into place. “Wait. You mentioned Gina a second ago. Are you related to Gina Rossi?”
“Yes. She’s my half-sister.”
Rose blinked in surprise. “Okay. I wasn’t expecting that.” She eased back onto the bed, partly to keep the room from tilting, partly to keep Allegra talking. “Do you know who took us?”
Allegra nodded sharply. “Yes.”
Rose stayed quiet, letting the silence stretch just enough to make it uncomfortable. People filled silences—they couldn’t help it.
Allegra finally spoke. “I did. Well… sort of. It was just a suggestion. I had no ideahewould actually do it.”
Rose’s brows shot up. And there it is—the crazy twist. “…You hired them?”
