“The only reason I would hug you, Ilario, would be so I can reach around and knife you in the back.” Alessandra said flatly. “And the last time we last spoke was the siege of Forli in the sixteenth century. As I recall, you weren’t there when I woke up.”. She shook her head. “You haven’t changed a bit, have you? Still a rakish ass, busy chasing tails around the globe, I take it?” Her lips pressed into a flat line. She was not happy. Ilario and she were very much like Sun Yat-Sen and Lenin. They were pointed in the same direction, but they weren’t exactly friendly, and their competition had the potential to be more than slightly volatile. So what the hell was he doing here?