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I smile at her with a crooked grin. “You know who I am. You let that little fact slip when I came to visit you.”

“You had me tied to a chair, Kilian.”

“Safety first.” I shrug. “Anyway, you don’t think I have men that can find this stuff out? You should actually be thanking me.”

She raises a brow at me in confusion. “Why would I be thanking you?”

“Because I had my men change your room number from where Giancarlo thinks you are staying. He won’t know I’m here, well he doesn’t know I am alive. And you’ll be safe.”

She edges her way toward the small table and chairs by the balcony doors. “And why wouldn’t I be safe?”

“The man that picked that envelope up from the bar is a known associate of Giancarlo Renzetti. He’s an assassin. And I wasn’t risking the chance Giancarlo set you up to kill you.”

“He won’t.”

“How can you be sure?”

“He’s looking for my brother just like you are.”

I run my finger over my lip as I watch her subtle movements. I hold in my smile, knowing exactly what she’s doing. “Interesting. Are you working for him?”

She shakes her head. “I’m not a Renzetti.”

I snort. “Technically you are.”

“I dropped that name the second my parents were killed.”

“When you moved to Dublin?”

She nods. “They died the year before, so as soon as I was eighteen, I left.”

“But you are still a Renzetti.”

She clenches her jaw and takes a step toward me. “No, I’m not. Only their blood runs through my veins. I’m Mirabella Di Masio.”

“Not Bella Gallo?” I ask.

She swallows and takes one step closer. “She was never real.”

“I am pretty sure she was real when I had her screaming my name as I ate her cunt out so hard she blacked out.”

She growls at me and pushes me into the bed, a knife at my throat, but I catch her wrist a few inches above my neck.

“That wasn’t very subtle,” I say. “I saw you pick up that knife.”

She doesn’t say anything, just straddles my hips and glares at me, pieces of hair falling out of her messy bun and into her face. I will my dick to stay down. Because having the sexiest woman in the world straddled on top of you with a knife to your throat is a fucking turn-on. “Why are you doing this?”

“I don’t trust you.”

I laugh at that. “I didn’t mean this, doll,” I say as I point to the knife. “It’s actually turning me on.” I thrust my hips into hers to let her feel what she is doing to me.

She guffaws and tries to pull away from me but I let go of the wrist holding the knife and grab her hips quickly, flipping her onto her back so I am straddling her. I grab the knife out of her hand and toss it to the floor as I pin her wrists on either side of her head. “Why are you working for him if you say you aren’t a Renzetti?”

She sighs, knowing she is trapped under me. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

She pinches her eyes shut. “Not when it comes to him. Not when he threatened my daughter.”