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Outside of this event, we’re plotting and planning to kill each other. And yet here we are—congratulating and smiling like I didn’t have a gun to their informant’s head a week ago.

I raise my glass in the direction of Gallagher, the head of the Irish mafia. He’s a man I despise deeply, but I’d rather have him as a friend than a foe. He lifts his glass to me, then turns back to the group he’s speaking with.

My eyes shift to the corner of the room where I see the bride and groom looking rather tense. My son says something in her ear that makes her visibly stiffen. Then, he proceeds to step away and walk out of the ballroom, leaving his bride standing there at a loss.

“Dammit, Danny,” I mutter, downing the rest of the liquor before walking out after him.

I follow him into the hallway and turn left when he does. The Faravelli estate is built more like a castle. It’s a maze of rooms and corridors that make getting lost easy. I keep an eye on my son until he finally breaks out onto a balcony and grips the ledge. I pause for a moment, assessing his body language.

Low shoulders, tense back, and from the looks of it, his fists are clenched tight. A telltale sign that he’s battling something.He’s always done this—even as a boy. I know him like the back of my hand.

I step onto the balcony. The cool breeze hits my face, and the moonlight kisses my features. “Daniele.”

“Leave me alone,” he mutters, not turning to look at me. “I want to be alone right now.”

“This is your engagement party. You can’t be out here while your fiancée is left alone inside.Whatever’s on your mind, we’ll talk about it later. Come.” I allow my authority to seep into the words.

He stays in place. His grip tightens on the ledge, nails digging into the concrete. I can feel the fury rolling off him in waves. Whatever’s bothering him, it’s shaking him to the core.

“Daniele, don’t make me repeat myself.” I walk up to where he stands. “Go back into the room. Now.”

His neck snaps toward me, and the fury in his eyes takes me aback for a second. But I keep my face neutral, unphased by whatever tantrum he’s about to unleash.

“How could you?” There’s a crack in his voice—a telltale sign of emotion lodged deep in his throat. “You knew. All these years, from the very beginning—you knew.”

My heart falters for a beat.

He knows.

That look in his eyes… it can only mean one thing. For decades, I feared this moment. That he would find out the one truth Beatrice and I swore we’d take to the grave.

The betrayal and anguish in his stare make me look away, even if only for a second.

“Look at me,” he seethes. “How long did you think you could keep this from me?”

“Daniele, I?—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “All this time, you played me for nothing but a fool. And now you have me here, cleaning up your mess.”

I glance around to make sure there’s no one within earshot.

“Watch your tongue, Daniele.”

He scoffs. “Oh, forgive me, Father. I know you don’t want anyone finding out that you killed the only heir to the Faravelli fortune.”

“Daniele, that is enough,” I seethe, my voice laced with a bitter kind of fury.“Now is not the time or place to speak about this. You’re getting married in two days, and the last thing you need to be doing is causing a scene.”

“Married? Fuck that. I want no part of this.” He steps away, the anguish in his eyes clear for all to see—and I feel like the biggest dick in the world. It was never supposed to come out this way. “I’m done, Matteo. I won’t be part of this anymore.”

“What do you mean you won’t be part of this? We have a debt to pay, my son. Need I remind you that?—”

“I don’t owe shit, Matteo.” His eyes lock onto mine. “You hid this from me.”

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. I’m at a loss. I try to reach for him, but he pulls away from my grasp, and my heart clenches. My son is twenty-four-years old. I’ve watched him grow from the womb to the man he is now, and never in all those years has he looked at me the way he is looking at me now.

“Danny boy,” I try to reach him again, but he’s already shaking his head.

“I need to get out of here.” He sidesteps me and walks off the balcony, leaving me alone in the warm night air of Florence.