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Icrack my knuckles as I pull up to the Renzetti estate and throw my rental in park. This could be the biggest mistake of my life. But this is something I have to do. For The Partners. For Bella.

Guns are drawn as I step out of the vehicle. I hold my hands up in the air as one of the guards walks toward me to pat me down.

“He’s clean,” the man says as the gates open. He grabs my arms and zip ties them behind my back. Then walks us up the path toward the house.

I sent a note to Giancarlo yesterday calling this meeting. He didn’t respond and I didn’t expect him to. It was more of a courtesy to let him know I was coming.

Dante walks out the front door as we approach the front of the house. The fifteen-foot-tall doors a stupid display of their wealth. “Kilian, so good to see you. Alive nonetheless.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

“How’s my cousin?”

I don’t answer him.

“Don’t get shy on me. I know you’ve been fucking her. I know that kid is yours. I would just say she is your flavor of the month but considering you are a father, I’m guessing it’s more.”

I clench my jaw, not giving in to his taunts.

“You know, back in Dublin, I saw the way you looked at her and I knew you were fucking her. I could tell by the way she lied about you too. Such a pity. I was ready to kill you back then. But I didn’t out of a courtesy to her. If I killed you, she never would have come back with us.”

I raise a brow at Dante. “Nice try, Renzetti. But you could have killed me and never told her. I’m not an idiot. Your father told you not to kill me.”

The smug look falls off his face and he changes the subject. “Let me guess then, you are here to negotiate their safety.”

“I’m here for the weapons you stole from us.”

He taps his finger against his bottom lip. “I think it’s more than that. You know you can’t have both.”

“I’m not here for you, Dante. I’m here to speak to Giancarlo. So either shoot me or let me into that house.”

A cynical grin crosses his face. “Oh, I will shoot you. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been wanting to for the last twelve years.”

I shrug the man still holding my arm off me. “Then do it,” I challenge him.

“I don’t want blood on the front steps.” He glances at one of his guards. “Untie him.”

The zip ties are snapped off my wrist and I roll my shoulders back as I follow Dante into the house.

The opulence of this place is outrageous. Marble floors, priceless art, gaudy vases lining the entryway. You’d think that the family would have turned the place more modern instead of keeping it like a museum. I’m sure they haven’t changed the decor in fifty years.

I follow Dante down a long hallway, lined with sconces and more artwork. He opens a set of double doors and on the other side, Giancarlo sits at a massive carved wooden desk. His meaty hands steepled in front of him. His balding head barely noticeable against the large burn scars that take up the right side of his face.

“Kilian Bancroft. You look rather good for a corpse.”

I sit in a giant leather wingback chair across from him. Not bothering for an invitation to sit. “And you look like the ever-ruthless boss to a mafia family. Although, I do have to say I would rather see you dead.”

“Feeling’s mutual,” he retorts. “I’m not all that surprised to see you.”

I laugh. “Well, I did send you a note saying I was coming. Did you prepare a guest room for me?”

Dante shoots me a death glare from the seat he took next to me.

“Unfortunately, I have no intention of letting you walk out of here alive, Mr. Bancroft.”

I cross my leg over my knee and settle farther into my chair. “Pity.”

“I don’t appreciate your nonchalance.”