Chapter fifty-seven
Rosanna Vietillo POV
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The last couple of days went in a blur. I felt sick, moody. But one thing I wished for the night was him.
I felt like a part of me was grieving, I couldn't erase the pictures of my father from my head. Nor the need I had for my husband.
I hated what he stood for, his family and everything attached to him. But not himself. I saw the difference. Because there should be some reasoning to need the enemy, right? He's married to me, but this isn't 'till death do us apart'.
Two days ago, I had a bad nightmare where my father confronted me for becoming Castillo in the dream. His anger, his hatred words to me felt so real that I was completely broken.
When I woke up, I was sweaty, shaking. I have never felt so weak but what bothered me was,
