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“I didn’t give him permission to come to my city.”

“Of course not,” Julian says. “But he doesn’t ask for permission, and he doesn’t give a shit if you want him here or not.”

“Where was he?”

“At a museum opening,” Julian replies, and pulls out an iPad to show him the footage. “Seems he’s getting braver these days.”

“Good. It’ll be easier for me to track and kill him.”

Damiano glares at the screen as his eyes track our enemy. He may be older, but he’s fit and ruthless, and I respect him.

But whether he gives me the nod to hunt and kill on his turf or not, it’s happening.

“And you want him yourself?” Damiano turns his attention to me.

“Yes. The fucker stole my wife and put me in prison. What do you think?”

He nods slowly. “I hear your wife is back with you. And you have a son.”

I go very fucking still.

“Where do you hear that from?”

“The Mafia is like any other club. We gossip, Carson. But for the record, I’m fucking glad you found her and that you have your family with you. I don’t care if you hunt and take care of Damien—yes, I remember who the fucker really is—but do it fast.”

“That’s my plan.” I nod and stand. “Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“One more thing,” Damiano says as he stands. “I know you were here two months ago to kill the mayor of our fine city.”

I don’t move a muscle. I don’t blink. I show no emotion.

“And I know because I hired that hit. Good work.” He nods once. “Good luck, gentlemen.”

Julian and I leave the office, and we’re silent as we ride down to our waiting guards and vehicle. We stay silent, in case someone planted a bug in the car, until we reach the apartment I keep here, and once we’re inside, Julian turns to me.

“You killed the fucking mayor of New York?”

“In case you forgot, it’s my whole fucking job to kill people. Someone put the hit out, I killed him and made a cool hundred million. That’s how my line of work goes, brother.”

“The goddamn mayor,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you haven’t been caught.”

“I’m too damn good to be caught,” I reply and gesture for Spider and Jack, Julian’s number two, to join us. “And I usually work alone, but I want help with this because I’ll be fucking damned if he slips away.”

“He already has,” Spider says grimly.

I turn and narrow my eyes on my man. “Report.”

“I was monitoring the facial recs, and he was seen leaving the city this morning, on a private jet, of course.”

“Where did he go?”

“Miami.”

“Jesus fucking fuck,” I growl and push my hands through my hair. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope. He landed an hour ago. I’ve tracked him to a house on the beach.”

“I enjoy the beach,” Julian says calmly. “Let’s go.”