PREVIEW

... e! Get it together. Both our heads are on the line!"

I slam my fist against the polished train car table between us, the force rattling the untouched wine glasses.

Raffaele winces, rubbing his temple like it might shield him from my fury.

"I know, it’s just—"

"No."

I cut him off coldly.

"You are a Castellano. Act like one. There’s only so many slip-ups we can afford, and this? This is the third mole in five days. Once is unfortunate. Twice is a pat ...

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