"Hand it over. Let me piece the full map together," Rafael said, extending his palm.

However, Quinton did not budge—in fact, he took a step back, his whole body edging closer to the front door.

Rafael's eyes narrowed, and a cold gleam flashed in them. "Quinton, what do you think you're doing? Are you playing games with me now?"

Quinton smiled harmlessly. "Mr. Driscoll, I wouldn't dare play games with you. But you know how it is—it never hurts to be cautious. If I just hand this over and you two decide to go back on your word, then I'd be handing steak to wolves."

Mosby chuckled. "Relax, Quinton. We promised you a share of the treasure, and we'll honor that."

Quinton snorted. "I want more than a share. I have two conditions. First, Grand Viper is your man. You're going to get him to kill Andrew for me. I don't care what it takes—I want that bastard dead. Every second he's still breathing, I feel like the sky's collapsing on me."

Mosby agreed immediately, "Done. No problem at