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I don’t even try to impress him. My mind a fucking mess. I slip on a pair of leggings and an oversized T-shirt before walking the three blocks to his house.

He cooked us dinner. And I know he knows something is off when I turn down whiskey and I’ve been quiet all night.

I know I need to tell him. It’s sitting on the tip of my tongue. But the words taste like ash every time I try to say them.

“Are you sure you're feeling alright?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “I think I am coming down with something. I’ve felt off all day.”

He pulls me into him and presses his lips to my forehead. “Come upstairs. You can go to bed and hopefully sleep it off.”

I want to say okay. But I am worried the longer I stay here, the harder it will be for me to say the words I need to say. What if he doesn’t want to keep it? What if he gets angry at me and says he never wants to see me again?

We aren’t in a relationship. We see each other randomly whenever he is in town. We mostly just drink and fuck. Tonight was a rare occasion we ate dinner. Yes, we talk a lot, and I used to spend days here studying. But we never called it anything more than us fucking. And he’s ten years older than me. I am barely out of college and he’s a successful businessman. Why the hell would he want to be with me? Some girl that he can’t be with. Not if he knew the truth. Because I am lying to myself if I said I could be Bella Gallo for the rest of my life. I can’t. The truth of my identity would come out sooner or later. And where would that lead him? To a death by my uncle’s hands, no doubt.

“I think I’m just going to go home.”

He wraps his arms around me. “Are you sure?”

I nod. “I don’t want to get you sick too. How long are you in town for?”

“Another couple days.”

“Okay. I’ll come over when I’m feeling better.”

“Let me drive you home.”

I shake my head. “It’s just a few blocks, Kil. I can walk.”

“If you don’t feel good, I don’t want you walking.”

I push his hands off me. “Maybe I just need some fresh air.”

He studies me and I know he can tell I’m lying about something. “How about I call you a cab?”

I know if I don’t agree he will insist on driving me and I just need to get away from him before I blurt out those two words that will ruin everything. “Okay.”

When I get home, I climb my staircase, despair and disappointment in my heart. I should have told him. Instead I chickened out. But it’s not like I could say, ‘I’m pregnant. Oh, and by the way, my real name is Mirabella Renzetti and my uncle is the head of the mob.’

I let out a laugh as I climb to the third floor. Yeah, that would have gone over really well.

I pull my keys out, ready to open my door, when I hear a voice on the other side.

Dante.

I press my ear to the door to hear what he is saying and nearly throw up my dinner when I hear his words.

“Yes, I am one-hundred-percent positive it was Kilian Bancroft. No I don’t know if she knows him.” He pauses and I realize he must be on the phone. “I have no idea if he knows who she is. But if he does, I am sure The Partners will make a move soon.”

The Partners?

I try to search my memories, that name sounding so familiar. Then I remember an argument between my uncle and my dad years ago. I have no idea what it was about, I was fifteen and barely paid attention to family business. But I remembered that name, remembered they were a crime organization. And something about my dad telling my uncle to never work with them, never contact them.

If Kilian is a part of them, does he know who I really am?

Dante starts speaking again. “I can put in a hit. If he is in Dublin, we can end it all.”

A hit? No, they can’t kill him.