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Dante ignored the puzzled look on the receptionist's face as he brushed past her, right through the motion sensor doors of the hotel. Those in charge should have a surprise waiting for them. He wasn't going to wait until they found out.

He stepped out into the hot afternoon, making a beeline for his car. Today must never repeat itself—it was so close to his end. He was only lucky because Petrova wanted him for himself.

He had just settled into his car when his eye caught some movement across the street. Parked near a cafe was a sleek black Maserati Quattroporte that definitely did not fit the environment.

However, it wasn't just the car that stood out. It was the man who was holding a small bag, heading straight for it. His eyes widened as he recognized him immediately.

Desmond Jackson. What did they say about speaking of the devil again? Seeing him made everything suddenly clear to Dante.

Desmond was never coming in; he was never going to meet with him like Sasha said. She had been played nicely.

Dante's gaze swept over the tinted windows of the Maserati. Who else was in that car, he wondered? And why was Desmond out here instead of heading inside to help Gregor?

Dante was really tempted to just walk up to the car and knock on the windows, demanding an audience with him. But he knew a move like that was foolish, especially given the caliber of men he was dealing with. Instead, he waited.

While waiting, he knew that he would need reinforcement soon enough, so he dialed Vito's number.

"Boss?" he responded immediately.

"I'm currently in view of Desmond Jackson, and I suspect that he'll be moving soon. Gather some of the men and be ready for my call for action."

"Yes, boss," Vito replied, and Dante ended the call.

As he suspected, soon enough, the car began to move. Dante turned the key and floored the pedal. Of course he was going to follow him—he couldn't let him get away that easily.

Desmond drove through the streets at a normal pace. He didn't think he suspected he was being followed, which was all the better. Then he pulled up onto the highway, and Dante smiled.

This highway only led to two possible places. He pulled out his phone and dialed Vito again.

"We are ready and waiting," Vito said.

"We need a second division. Luca will head it. I need you guys to block the entrances to the routes that lead off the highway to Via della Conciliazione, the other towards the northern hills. He's in a black Maserati."

"Noted, boss. I will take the hills. Luca's team will be at the city route."

"Good. No mistakes—we can only get this chance once," Dante concluded and ended the call once more. Now his attention was fully on Desmond, and he knew in the end, he would be cornered.

They had been driving for a good while. The highway was basically free except for the occasional trucks and cars that drove through.

Abruptly, the Maserati slowed down on the highway. Dante stepped on his brakes too. Why was he stopping?

He got his answer when the back seat door opened slowly and Desmond stepped out, his eyes hidden by the dark sunglasses he wore and his mouth in a tight line. So he did know he was being followed.

Well, Dante hadn't been very subtle about it. Truth be told, he wanted a confrontation. He pushed his own door open and stepped out, adrenaline rushing through his veins.

"You're following me now, Viper?" Desmond said, taking off the sunglasses.

Dante only smiled. "Well, it was about time you figured it out."

"And why, if I may ask?" Desmond replied.

"Don't play dumb with me here. You know you're not fooling anyone."

"Well, I was hoping I could enjoy my afternoon." His British accent was thick even though he had spent a lot of time in Italy. It annoyed the hell out of Dante.

"But I guess we're doing this instead." Just as the words left his mouth, the front door opened and a man in similar wear as him stepped out. Then the passenger door opened and another stepped out.

Dante raised an eyebrow. Three against one. Well, this was certainly going to be interesting.