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“Because your father was a monster, and you’re putting your life and everyone else’s life on the line to restore his legacy,” she cried, storming over to him, angry colour flooding her suddenly tormented face. “He killed his best friend to start a war, and didn’t think twice about killing my family and leaving us orphaned, and all to build an empire he didn’t even need because he was already as rich as Croesus! He doesn’t deserve a legacy!”

“You think I don’t know that?” His temper boiling over, he threw the mug into the sink. That her flinch at the loud smash of ceramic hitting steel made his chest clench only added to his fury. He should never have allowed himself to reach the point where his chest clenched for her over anything.

Gripping her shoulders, he brought his face right down to hers. “He was a monster and a psychopath, but it doesn’t change that he was my father, and unless you’ve loved and hated someone with equal passion, you will never understand why I have to do this! I’ve known since I was fourteen years old that I was a disappointment to him. All those years I spent hating him, but still doing everything in my power to be the man he wanted me to be and prove myself worthy of him, and what happened within months of me stepping into his shoes? I lost it all! I lost every damn thing! This is my last chance to prove myself to him, because if hell exists, you can be damned sure he’s watched it all slip through my fingers and has been cursing me from his fiery pit, and God knows I need to prove it to myself too.”

Her face contorted, pain ravaging it. For the longest time they did nothing but stare at each other, both breathing heavily, until she fisted his shirt tightly and pressed her forehead to his. Her voice choked, she whispered, “You’re right, Mattia. I don’t understand. But I do understand that you’re willing to die and willing for me to die, to save the legacy of a monster. You’ve won your mother’s freedom. Let that be enough...”

The loud ring of the doorbell made them both freeze.

Only on the second ring did they let go of each other and take a step back. It felt like it all happened in slow motion, time shrinking to a crawl when Elvira reached into her back pocket and pulled out her gun.

Aiming it at his face, she shook her head. Lips trembling, she quietly said, “I can’t let you win.”

His gun had appeared in his hand too. He raised it slowly. “And I can’t let you win.”

Starkness came into her voice. “I don’t want you to die.”

His lips twisted into a smile. “And I don’t want you to die either.”

Muffled voices shouted through the door. His men, concerned at the time it was taking for him to answer it.

“I’m coming,” he called firmly, not taking his eyes from her.

A tear trickled down her cheek. Her aim didn’t waver.

His chest filled with an emotion it hurt to breathe through. “If this is my day to die, then I’m glad I spent my final hours with you.”

Another tear fell down her face before a tight smile creased her beautiful face. “Go fuck yourself, Esposito.”

Chapter Sixteen

Elvira recognised the two men who’d strolled into the apartment and were now sitting on the hard dining chairs, guns loosely aimed in her direction. Fringe men, she’d always thought of them as. Untrustworthy. They’d pledged allegiance to the Ranieris as all the other Esposito men had done, but these men were mercenaries, pledging allegiance to whoever paid the most.

If this was the best Mattia could do, then God help him. His empire reduced to one loyalist currently in a coma and two mercenaries.

Or should that be, God help her and her family? As Mattia had said when she was still cuffed to the chair, people with nothing left to lose have nothing left to fear.

She’d told him she didn’t understand, but she did. Wasn’t she doing the same as him? He was fighting for his father’s legacy. She was fighting for her parents’ memory. The difference was he was fighting for the legacy of the monster who’d made her parents a memory she had no memory of.

She looked at her watch. Twenty minutes.

The sickness in her stomach rolled. Her pulses, already running ragged, kicked up another gear. The presence of the mercenaries in the small living room had shrunk it to the extent she would swear she could hear Mattia’s heart beating.

He’d said little since messaging the address to Elio. Nothing directed at her. She’d avoided his stare and knew he was avoiding hers.

She could take the mercenaries. It was a thought that kept going round and round in her head. Two bullets, one in each meatheads’ head.

But it would leave her defenceless. More importantly, she didn’t know if the second bullet was damaged from when she’d shot the pillow. She didn’t think it was, but if she fired it and there was damage she couldn’t see with the naked eye, it could affect the trajectory. For all she knew, it might hit Mattia. Maybe later, when adrenaline was running high, she wouldn’t care if she shot him, but right now the thought of it brought her out in a cold sweat. She still hated to look at the scratch marks she’d inflicted on his cheek.

Another look at her watch. Sixteen minutes.

“Why do the handover here?” she blurted out, finally looking at him. “Why not somewhere public?”

Public was safer for everyone.

Only the mercenaries looked at her.

Mattia’s answer was a quiet, “Because for good or ill, it ends here.”