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He waves me off, his body language completely relaxed. “Same old threats, Matteo. ‘I’ll put a bullet in your head, Gia.’ ‘I’ll make you regret being born.’ Blah, blah, blah. It’s getting boring. Maybe try something new?”

I storm around my desk, and as I do, he rises to his full height. A slow smile spreads across his lips, like he’s daring me to strike. I pause, as soon as I am in front of him.

He’s baiting me. He wants to throw me off my cool and get me distracted.

“You have ten seconds to leave.” I don’t want to let him go but there is strength in exercising caution in this instant. “You forget that you’re on my turf, my rules.”

“Of course,” he chuckles lowly, “how can I forget, the great Davacalli kingdom. But tell me, Matteo, where is your heir? I heard you two got into a little bit of a tiff at the gala. Trouble in the family unit?”

I shove him—hard. He stumbles a few steps but catches himself and takes a swing at me, but I easily dodge it. I grab his collar and throw him onto the desk. I hold him there, tempted to choke him out. I am moving on pure rage and vengeance.

“Oh, frisky, is this how you get it on with the missus?”

“Enough!” I growl. “Don’t speak of her.”

“Someone is a little touchy,” he says in a singsong voice. “Fine, if you don’t want to talk about your marriage, then maybe we can discuss how your warehouse burned to a crisp—sorry about that, by the way. My arson guy got a little carried away.”

My nostrils flare. “You!”

He smiles up at me, his eyes gleaming with victory, “You were taking too long to figure it out, and I was getting bored. I wanted to speed things up a little bit.”

“Bastard.” I lift him up slightly and then slam him back onto the desk. “You killed my men!”

“They were just in the way.” He cackles, the sound unhinged and grating.

Without warning, he shoves me hard, so I stumble a few steps backward, but I catch myself before I fall. “I only told you because I want you to know that I am coming for you, Davacalli. I am coming back for everything you took from me. Starting with that little darling wife of yours. Tell me, does she fuck as well as Beatrice?”

I want to grab my gun and shoot him where he stands. I want to put him down like the mutt he is but I hold myself. In moments like this, it is best to be silent.

“Leave, Giacomo,” I bite out. “Before I get my security to throw you in a ditch somewhere.”

“Promises, promises, Matteo. But fine, I will leave you.” He makes a dramatic bow. “Until next time, old friend.”

And with those parting words, he leaves me standing in the middle of my office, vibrating with the kind of anger that draws a man to kill.

I walk over to my desk and plunge my fist onto the hardwood. How the fuck did he even get up here? Someone is getting fired for this, maybe even in solitary confinement. I don’t give two shits.

I close my eyes and try to quell the rage that moves through my body. “I’m teetering on the edge.”

Whenever there is the mention of Beatrice, something inside of me snaps. All I can feel is rage.

I am still reeling with anger. My fist twitches against the hardwood of the desk. I have a thirst for blood—his blood.

Maria.

Her face flickers in my mind—soft, innocent, untouched by this world of monsters.

“He will never touch her.” The words hang in the empty room, a promise etched in steel. As long as there’s breath in my lungs, Maria is mine to protect. And he will never get near her.

My heart finally calms, and the anger subsides. I stand up straight and look at my watch: 6:58. I am late for dinner, but I can still make it in time.

I go to grab my keys when my door bursts open again, and this time, Valerio runs in, looking like a man who’s just been hit in the balls.

My blood runs cold. “What is it?”

“Vortex, the club—it’s been hit.”

“What do you mean hit?” I am already walking to the door.