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I get up and open the door.

Sure enough, it’s her. Cautiously, her gaze lands on my wife in the bed.

“Yes, Zoya?” I break the ice.

“Apologies for disturbing you. You have a visitor.” The tightness in her face suggests I’m not going to like who this visitor is.

“Who? And at this hour?” It’s not even seven.

Her eyes flick back to Gabrielle and then to me. “It’s Corrado. Your father-in-law.”

Few things shock me, but this is one hell of a shocker. What the fuck is he doing here? That he would think to even venture onto my property is as good as signing his death certificate. That motherfucker.

“The guards are with him,” Zoya explains in a calm tone, but I can see how nervous she is. “I left them in the living room.”

“Anything look suspicious?”

“Only him.”

“Alright. You stay up here. If you hear gunfire or anything untoward, you take my wife, and the two of you get to the safehouse.” You can never be too prepared when it comes to threats like Corrado. My staff are fully trained for all eventualities.

“Of course.”

I leave her, checking for my gun before I make my way downstairs.

What could this bastard want so early in the day? As far as I’m concerned, we have nothing to talk about.

He’s living on borrowed time. He’s not stupid. Surely, he must have figured that out by now.

I reach the living room and find Roman and Konstantin standing beside a weathered-looking Corrado. Both have machine guns trained on him.

They’re gathered in front of a Renaissance-style painting depicting Dante’s Inferno. One of my mother’s collections.

How fitting for Corrado. The picture draws too many comparisons with him.

He’s the fucking devil from the last level of hell, and I’ll be sending him right back there.

I acknowledge my guards and look back at Corrado. “You must have some death wish, Corrado D’Auria,” I grate out, tightening my jaw.

He straightens and looks me right in the eye. “I’ve come to talk about my daughter.”

I level him with a hard stare. “What about her?”

“I prefer to speak man to man, just you and me.” He glances from Roman to Konstantin.

I glare back at him and think for a minute. There’s no way he can pull some stunt on me if I’m on my own, but I never underestimate anybody. Too many leaders of the past were taken out through something so simple.

After a few slow seconds, I tell my guards in Russian to wait outside by the door and close it behind them. They both nod and leave us.

Corrado seems to relax the minute the door clicks shut. Not sure why. It’s not like I’ve ever gone easy on him. Speaking of which, he’s standing.

“All healed up?” I sneer, wishing I’d done more damage to his legs.

“Not exactly. But I prefer not to use a wheelchair where possible.”

I almost laugh. Almost. Now is not the time for humor, even the dark kind. “Let’s hear it. Why do you wanna talk about Gabrielle?”

Corrado clears his throat. “Have you defiled my daughter yet?”