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The sliding door to the garden is unlocked, making it easier for us to get into the house. I nod to Mario and he takes the lead to unlock the front door for the other men. Andre heads up the stairs and I make my way to the living room, the sound of the TV pulling me in.

I turn the corner expecting to find someone on the couch. A bottle of whiskey sits open and a half-full glass next to it. But the room is empty.

The click of a gun safety causes me to spin abruptly, my weapon out and my finger on the trigger.

I’m greeted by a woman in a silk bathrobe with dark hair piled on her head. Dark-brown eyes, they are almost black, penetrate me as she points her weapon at me. A confused look takes over her face as she takes me in but she doesn’t drop her hold on the Smith and Wesson pointed at me.

I don’t miss the ache in my chest at the vision in front of me. I must be hallucinating. I haven’t seen her in ten years. Not since she disappeared without a word. I spent three years trying to find her before I gave up. My mind focused on The Partners and the destruction I was causing.

“Bella?”

6

MIRABELLA

“Kilian?” I blink a few times, unable to comprehend how the hell the man in front of me is standing in front of me. “You… you’re dead.”

He takes a step closer to me, a smirk on his face. “I assure you, I am very much alive.”

I back up to keep my distance. This may be the man I fell for ten years ago but he broke into my house and has a gun pointed at me. “But… I saw the news. I saw… they said you were dead.”

“I know,” he says as he prowls closer to me.

I back up and glance up the stairs where I see another man with a gun. This isn’t good.

What the hell do they want? What did Ezio do?

I back up into the kitchen as Kilian stalks toward me. I listen for more footsteps, more men. If he isn’t here alone, then he has to be here with more than one other person. A quick glance to my left lets me know no one is in the kitchen. I back my way around the island until it’s my only shield against Kilian besides the gun in my hand.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

He studies me and I have a hard time shutting my brain off to all the memories with him. The secret conversations, the inside jokes, the stolen kisses, the twisted sheets.

“I could ask you the same thing, Bella.” He clicks his tongue as he takes a casual stance against the wall, his gun still aimed at me. “Or should I say Mirabella? I’m not quite sure I know who you are. Who you ever were.”

I gulp at his words. He must have looked for me. Figured out the fake name I had in Dublin wasn’t really me.

“Tell me, is it Bella Gallo or Mirabella Di Masio? Or maybe some other name you are keeping secret.” He takes two steps toward the island until he is leaning over it, his elbows propped in front of him. “Or maybe neither of those names is real.”

I clench my jaw. “I know who you are.”

A diabolical grin takes over his face. “I would hope so,mo stór. We did spend two years fucking.”

I ignore the term of endearment and his crass words for what we had. “You’re in The Partners.”

He blinks in shock so briefly someone else might miss it but he doesn’t miss a beat with his words. “And you are in the mafia.”

“No. I’m not.”

He starts to move around the island but I move with him to keep our distance. “How many lies are you going to tell me tonight, Bella?” He laughs then, a cynical laugh that sends chills down my spine. “Actually, one truth is all I would really like. Since it seems you lied to me since the day we met.”

I swallow and wonder just how much he knows. Does he know about Aria? “I’m not in the mafia.”

“I have evidence that proves otherwise.”

I glare at him. “Why would it matter if I was? You’re in The Partners. Just as merciless as any mafia family.” I pause as anger boils in my blood. “Actually they’re worse.”

His expression remains blank at my accusation. “Where is Nicolas?”