This was what I’d gathered about Cato Marino.

He was stupid rich. Multibillionaire.

He was self-made. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the achievements of this single man in his single lifetime.

He was young. He just turned thirty in March.

How did someone so young accomplish so much?

And the most surprising revelation of all…he was hot.

Inexplicably gorgeous. So beautiful it was unreal. Over six foot of steel—and probably all steel in his pants too. Every picture I saw of him showed off his caveman shoulders, his muscled arms, and tight waist. Whether he was in jeans or a suit, the hardness of his body couldn’t be denied. Sexy from head to toe, he was model material, not just banker material.

I hadn’t planned on seducing him to accomplish my goal, but now I realized that plan wouldn’t have worked anyway. A hot billionaire like him was already getting too much ass to handle. He could have any woman he wanted, so there was no way I could impress him. He might glance at me, think I was pretty. But an instant later, he would already be thinking about something else.

I did as much research as I could, and it was safe to conclude this man was impenetrable. Every photograph I could find of him showed his security team in the background. The only public appearances he made were for work. His personal life wasn’t disclosed. There wasn’t even a picture of him going to the grocery store to pick up some orange juice.

No wonder why Micah put this on my shoulders.

There were a few places Cato frequented in Florence, so I decided to get a view of him in person. Perhaps if I studied my prey, I’d gain a better understanding of how I was going to pull this off. Marching up to him with a gun wouldn’t accomplish anything. One of his men would take me out in a second. I probably couldn’t even walk up to him at all, not without being intercepted by one of his bodyguards.

I didn’t have a lot of time to waste, but I had to take this slowly if I were going to accomplish anything.

I went to one of his favorite clubs in Florence. I didn’t have a clue if or when he would show his face, so I made an appearance three nights in a row, wearing a different dress and heels each time. The bartender thought I was a lonely alcoholic who had quickly become a regular.

On the third night, I sat alone at a table when I finally got some luck. My hands were wrapped around my glass of scotch as my eyes watched the commotion at the doorway. Bouncers moved out of the way so Cato could lead the pack. With three other good-looking men in suits, they entered the bar, all heads turning their way like they were beautiful women in heels. Women weren’t the only ones looking, but men too, probably envious of a man who was so rich and handsome he could have any woman he wanted—at any time.

A special seating area was cleared out just for them, and before their muscular asses pressed against the leather seats, a sexy waitress in a dress that hardly covered anything appeared out of nowhere to wait on them.

I focused on Cato and ignored his three friends. Even in the darkness of the club, he looked exactly the same as he did in his photographs. Rugged, handsome, and confident. He wore a gray V-neck that highlighted his muscular arms and chest. His shoulders were broader in person than they were in the pictures. With blue eyes and brown hair, he was a very pretty man. His tanned skin implied he loved the outdoors, even though I’d never seen a single photograph of him hiking or yachting.

I continued to enjoy my scotch as I stared from my chair, trying to glean as much information as I could. The three men with him seemed to be friends, not security detail. The men in charge of keeping him safe stayed near the entrance, their eyes scanning the bar and everyone near it. Hopefully, they didn’t find me suspicious, just a woman who was debating making a move.

Just as the waitress returned with their drinks, a group of confident women joined them. All pretty and dressed for the occasion, they flashed their smiles and their long legs, knowing exactly who Cato was.

I assumed a handsome guy like him was a playboy, but I wasn’t prepared for how extreme of a playboy he was.

He grabbed the woman closest to him by the wrist and gently tugged her toward him. His hands guided her hips over his thighs until she straddled his lap. Then he gripped her lower back and pulled her in for a kiss, her dress riding up and showing her black thong to everyone.

The other guys didn’t seem the least bit surprised.

The bar staff didn’t rush over and tell her to stick to the dress code.

With my jaw hanging open, I watched Cato make out with a complete stranger. Like he could do whatever he wanted, he took control without asking permission. His hand dug into her hair, and he kissed her with his full lips, treating her like he adored her rather than had no idea who she was. His fingers tucked her hair behind her ear then he gripped her ass.

Even though he was a total pig, it was still pretty hot. He certainly knew how to use that rugged mouth of his.

He ended the kiss then gently guided her into the seat beside him. His arm rested over the back of the couch, and he turned to talk to her, perhaps to actually ask for her name, but another woman straddled his hips and stole his attention.

Then he made out with her next.

“Jesus…” I took a long drink of my scotch.

She kissed him harder than the previous woman, her hands scratching his chest as she ground against his erection in his slacks. She showed him her best moves, doing her damnedest to erase the woman who had just pulled the same stunt.

The kiss lasted a while before he directed her into the space on the other side of him. Both of his arms now rested on the leather of the back of the couch as he claimed both women for the night, one under each arm.

“Wow…what a pig.”

The other guys found their women, and then they spent the night drinking and talking.

I’d had my fair share of playboys, but nothing of that caliber. That man didn’t even need to hunt for pussy because it hunted for him. All he had to do was wait thirty seconds, and a beautiful woman would appear to replace the previous one. When the night was over, he would probably take both women back to his place with the intention of bedding them both. They probably hoped they might catch his attention if they were adventurous enough, but like all the others, they would be gone by morning.

And he would forget their faces forever.

Just when I finished my scotch, another woman appeared. She straddled his lap, and another make-out session commenced.

I’d been sitting there all night without attracting an admirer, while Cato was getting more pussy than he could handle. “Fuck…I need another drink.”

I had a few friends in high places, so I used that to my advantage to get an audience with the right man.

A hitman.

He specialized in killing high-profile targets and making it look like accidents. He’d retired a few years ago, but he’d had an illustrious career that garnered him a great deal of respect. Bosco Roth was a good friend of my brother’s, so I called him and asked for an introduction to this famous killer.

Now I sat on the bench at the bus stop in the middle of the night. It was two in the morning, and everyone was at home. The only company I had was a bum sleeping across the street in the alleyway. The sun had been gone for hours, but the humidity still hovered over me in the darkness. I was in jeans and a t-shirt, but even that was too warm to wear.

Heavy footsteps sounded to my left, and that’s when I turned to see the huge man covered in sleeves of tattoos. He was terrifying in appearance, especially when he clenched his jaw like that. He didn’t look the least bit pleased to see me, like this favor he was doing for Bosco was nothing but a pain in the ass.

I rose to my feet and stood under the lamplight. Like always, I didn’t show fear, even though this man was much more terrifying than Damien had ever been. “Bones?”

He stopped in front of me, keeping several feet in between us. We were visible under the lamplight, but he didn’t seem to care if we were seen. He was in a black t-shirt and black jeans, matching the ink that covered his arms and disappeared under the collar of his shirt. “I’m only here because Bosco is a friend of mine. I’m not in the game anymore, and there’s nothing you can offer me to change my mind. If we’re done here, I have somewhere to be.” He spat everything out as quickly as he could, like just one more second of this meeting was too much for him.

When I was part of my family, I was used to luxury. We were a wealthy family, so I always had everything that I needed. Perhaps if I had stayed, that would still be the case, and I would have a lot more money to offer him. Unfortunately, all I had was the deed to my house, some jewelry my father bought me, and my car. “There’s a million euros for you if you can help me.” To me, that was a fortune.

But based on the coldness of his face, that was just a few pennies. “I said there’s nothing you can offer me. I meant it.” He slid his hands into his front pockets, and that’s when I noticed the black ring tattooed on his ring finger.

“I don’t want to kill this guy. I just need to get him from Point A to Point B.” Now that I’d observed Cato with my own eyes, I realized how difficult this mission would be. He was impossible to access because he was never alone, and if he was alone, he probably had a woman’s tongue down his throat. This was completely out of my league. “It’s a simple mission.”

“Then why do you need me?”

“This isn’t really my forte…”

He continued to look bored.

“Look, I’m mixed up in some serious shit, and I need help.”

Bones still look irritated, like every moment he wasted was precious. “I have a guy who can help you. But a million euro isn’t going to cut it.”

“Then how much?” Maybe I could scrounge up some more money somehow.

“Depends on the target. Who is it?”

I glanced around us to make sure we were alone. “Cato Marino.”

Recognition immediately flashed in his gaze. “No one is gonna take the hit for less than a hundred million.”

My eyes snapped open. “You can’t be serious.”

“He’s a high-profile target. I’m not even sure it can be done. A hundred million is a conservative guess.”

“I don’t have that kind of money…”

“Then you don’t have Cato.” He took a step back like he was going to leave the scene. “I’ve got a wife and kid at home. I shouldn’t have come in the first place.”

“Wait, please.”

He stopped and burned his ice-cold gaze into mine. “I just told you I can’t help you. You’re on your own, woman.”

“Could you at least give me some advice?” I tried not to beg, but my voice slowly rose. If no one would help me, my odds of completing this mission were even more unlikely. Killing Cato would be a much easier task than delivering him to Micah. At least then I could hide on top of a roof and aim my weapon. “How would you capture Cato and hand him over?”

“Cato Marino is a powerful man. He’s got security on him at all times.”

“Hence, why I’m asking for advice.” Maybe I shouldn’t be a smartass right now, but I was losing my focus.

He narrowed his eyes. “You don’t stand a chance. If you have no men and no money, capturing someone like him isn’t possible. You only have one option, and even then, it probably won’t work.”

“What?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes steady and wide. He didn’t blink often, adding to his aura of constant hostility. “Fuck him. Fuck him hard.”

There was a coffee shop across the street from one of Cato’s banks, and he’d been seen grabbing a cup of afternoon coffee there once in a while. He had been dressed in his suit and tie, and it seemed like he’d spent all morning talking about money until his brain was fried.

I sat at one of the tables outside with a latte and a book, hoping he would stop by sometime that week. A few days passed and he didn’t make an appearance, and I was almost done with my book and would soon have to replace it. Thankfully, the gallery had been slow for the past two weeks, so my boss didn’t need me as often as usual.

I could keep stalking my target.

Finally, Cato Marino showed up. It was two in the afternoon when he crossed the street and stepped inside the bakery.

I could watch him through the windows. He was in a gray suit and black tie. His trousers hugged his rock-hard ass, and he held himself with perfect posture. He stood in line and waited to order as he casually glanced at his expensive watch. Then he rubbed his fingers across the shadowy beard that started to pop up along his chiseled jaw.

I wondered if he’d gone home with all three of those women from the bar.

Wouldn’t be surprised.

He moved up to the front of the line and gave his order. He dropped a hundred euro into the tip jar when no one was looking then stepped away to wait for his coffee to be prepared.

So the guy was generous.

I didn’t know what these stalking sessions would accomplish. It didn’t seem like I was gleaning any helpful knowledge in the process. So far, all I’d uncovered was that he was getting laid constantly and he looked damn good in a suit. He was also a generous tipper. But none of those things would help me get him into Micah’s hands.

And regardless of how hot he was, I was not screwing him.

I’d have to find another way.

The barista handed him his coffee, and he took a sip before he walked out and crossed the street. He didn’t look at me once because he didn’t notice me in the center of filled tables. That worked out in my favor, because if he did notice me, I wouldn’t be able to follow him anymore.

I watched him as he opened the door and stepped inside the bank, over six feet of muscle and pure masculinity. The suit fit him so well, clearly designed just for him, and he moved like a god rather than a human. The door shut behind him, and he was gone from my sight.

How was I going to do this?

I pulled up to Barsetti Vineyards and left my car in the gravel parking lot. The sun was high in the sky, and out in the middle of Tuscany, there were iconic views of the land that made it so famous. The smell of olive trees was in the air, along with the succulent scent of grapes in the vineyard.

I walked onto the property then made my way into the main building. A friend of my father’s ran the vineyard, and from what I could recall, he wasn’t just a winemaker. His hands were just as dirty as my father’s.

I checked in with his assistant before I stepped inside.

The last time I saw Crow Barsetti, I was just a child. His features weren’t easy to remember because I was just too young, but I did remember his eyes. They were unique with their green and hazel color. Now decades had passed, and he was a different man from the one I’d met all those years ago—but his eyes were still the same.

He rose from behind his desk and joined me near the door, examining me like he was trying to place me in his mind. “Siena Russo…are you Stefan’s daughter?”

He had a good memory. “I’m glad you remember me.”

“Vaguely,” he said simply. “How can I help you, Siena? Your father well?”

“Uh…not really.” I crossed my arms over my chest and hoped this man would risk everything to help me. It didn’t make sense why he would, but I had to try. Maybe he would take pity on me.

“What is it?” Tall and strong, he was a man who had aged well. Spending his days working at a winery had obviously kept him in shape. There were pictures scattered across his desk, probably pictures of his family.

“My father has been captured by Micah and his men. My brother is missing, and I’m not sure what’s going on with the business.”

He sighed quietly. “I’m sorry to hear that, Siena.” He seemed sincere.

“Micah made a deal with me. If I bring him a man he wants, he’ll let my father go. If I don’t…he’ll kill me and my father.” I left out the rape part. That was a subject no one ever wanted to discuss.

“Who’s the man?”

“Cato Marino.”

Crow sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “So he gives you a mission you have no chance of completing…”

“It seems that way.”

“I’m sorry, Siena. I warned your father he should walk away from the business. A criminal life will only last so long…before that luck runs out. I stopped my weapons business when I married my wife. We both wanted a simple life.”

“Good for you. I wish my father had done the same.” Perhaps my mother would still be alive right now if he had.

He gave me a look full of pity. “I know you’re going to ask for my help. But before you do, I have to tell you about my family. My brother and I have been running this winery for thirty years. Now I’m grooming my son-in-law to take it over. I have two grandsons. Reid is two and Crow Jr. is one.”

I smiled. “He was named after you.”

“Yes.” His happiness didn’t mirror mine. “I’ve fought many wars over my lifetime. I can’t do it anymore. I’m very sorry, Siena. Truly. But I can’t put my family in jeopardy, not when we finally have the peace we worked so hard for.”

How could I argue with a man who just wanted to protect his family? He’d made the right decision when my father didn’t. He’d walked away from his business and criminal ties to protect his family. He wasn’t greedy and selfish like my father. He’d made the right call. “I understand.” Crow Barsetti deserved the peace he’d fought for—and I would never take that away from him. “You’re right.”

He tilted his head slightly, his eyes full of pity. “Want my advice?”

“Please.” I lifted my eyes to meet his.

“Run.”

My heart started to palpitate.

“Your father wouldn’t want you to risk your life for his. He wouldn’t want you to attempt this mission and get killed. And if you fail, Micah will just hunt you down. Take whatever money you have left and run.”

It was good advice, the same advice I would give to anyone else.

“Stefan had his chance to choose a peaceful life. He didn’t take it. You shouldn’t be punished for that, Siena.”

He was absolutely right. I shouldn’t be punished for my father’s stupidity. “I agree with you. But my loyalty won’t allow me to give up. His blood is my blood. I know if our places were switched, he wouldn’t give up.”

“That’s different. He’s your father. That’s his burden—not yours. And as a father and a grandfather, I can promise you he would want you to run. He would want you to leave him to die. If my daughter were in that position…I would want her to run as hard as she could. My memory would live on with her anyway.”

It was a sweet thing to say, especially since it was so sincere. “I still can’t do it.” I couldn’t let my father rot in that prison until they tortured him to death. “I would never be happy anyway. I would constantly wonder if he’d been killed yet. And if he had been killed, the guilt would haunt me forever. He doesn’t deserve my loyalty…but he has it anyway.”

After I finished work at the gallery, I walked a few blocks until I reached the café Cato liked to frequent. This time, I didn’t stop by in the hope of seeing him. After the long day I’d had, I wanted an iced coffee and a muffin to rip apart with my fingertips.

Most people hated the brutal summers here in Florence, but I didn’t mind them at all. I’d grown up in this treacherous heat, and I couldn’t imagine my life without that experience. So I took my coffee and muffin and sat outside. I had a client who’d recruited me to decorate his summer home in Tuscany, and now I was studying images of his living room and dining room to determine the size and color of the frames as well as the artwork that would complement each one. That was my job—finding artwork for rich people. Sometimes people just wanted cheap stuff to cover the walls, but occasionally, my clients had more refined taste and preferred masterpieces by local artists. Those always took longer to locate, but since I charged by the hour, that worked out in my favor.

The chair across from me shifted, and then a heavy body filled its vacancy.

When my eyes flicked upward, they landed on the man I’d been hunting. With blue eyes that matched the summer sky and a hard jaw that looked like it’d been carved with a knife, the beautiful man I’d been watching from afar sat in front of me.

He didn’t greet me with that handsome smile I’d seen him flash to his women. Instead, his eyes were hostile and his lips were slightly pressed in amusement. He wasn’t wearing a suit and tie like he usually did when he frequented this spot. Today, he was dressed in jeans and an olive green t-shirt, a V in the front so his chest muscles were unmistakable. At this close distance, I could clearly see the tight cords in his neck, the obvious tension of the muscles of his physique. His sunglasses hung from the vee in his shirt, and he rested his forearms on the armrests of the chair. They were flanked with the same veins that matched his neck, and he was the tightest and fittest man I’d seen. It seemed like he only worked out and ate protein. No wonder he could get three different women in a row to make out with him without even making an introduction.

He’d caught me off guard and he knew it, judging by the hint of arrogance in his eyes, but I refused to acknowledge it. My table was scattered with images of a living room and I was looking up artwork online, so it was clear I was actually working on something. I never allowed fear to enter my expression, so I remained as calm as ever. “Hello.” That was the only response I would give him. Saying the least amount possible was the smartest thing to do in this situation. Maybe he’d figured out I’d been following him. Or maybe he was making a pass at me. There was no real way to know until he stated his intentions.

“My stalkers aren’t usually young and beautiful women. This is a nice surprise.” He sat forward and moved his forearms to the top of the table. His hands rested on my paperwork, but he didn’t look down to examine my project. His eyes were glued to me and focused, like there was nothing else more important in the world than watching me. He didn’t blink as he took me in, and it seemed like I was sitting across from him in a business meeting. I wouldn’t be able to leave until I gave him what he wanted.

I kept my eyes on him as I shut my laptop. “Thank you. But I’m not a stalker.”

His eyes narrowed slightly as he examined me. “Don’t insult me. There’s nothing that goes on around me that I don’t notice.” His voice complemented his appearance perfectly. It was deep and sharp, just like the edge of a knife.

Even though his assumption was totally accurate, I didn’t like his arrogance. He was the conceited playboy I’d assumed he was. The whole world revolved around him—and him alone. Maybe I was just jealous that he could have hot sex every night of his life when I hadn’t gotten action in over a month. Or maybe I hated men who thought they were better than everyone else. I used to be rich once upon a time. I knew how rich people thought—that they were above everyone. “Maybe if you weren’t so cocky, you would realize it’s just a coincidence. Not everyone wants your balls.”

The corner of his mouth ticked slightly, like he wanted to smile but stopped himself from doing it. “If you don’t want my balls, then why are you following me?” Within the short time he sat there with me, he’d drawn attention from the other tables. Women turned around to look at him, aware that the sexiest bachelor in Italy had spotted a random woman he liked.

What a wrong assumption that was. “Coincidence.”

“Really?” He cocked his head slightly, his blue eyes taking me in aggressively. His wide shoulders looked broad in the cotton on his shirt, and the veins on his forearms moved all the way up to his biceps. “If you don’t want my balls and this really is a coincidence, then I should never see you again.” He rose to his feet and pushed the chair back at the same time. He walked off, turning his back on me and walking down the sidewalk. His ass looked snug in his jeans, and all the women in my vicinity noticed the exact same thing.

There was no mistaking the subtle threat in his tone. He let me off the hook because his formidable power was enough to chase anyone away. Unless I acted like I wanted to fuck him, he wanted nothing to do with me. If I had an ulterior motive, then I should stay the hell away from him.

But there was a problem with that.

I couldn’t stay away—not if I wanted my father to live.