I watch Leo go with the same sense of astonishment and then look back to Sandro, whose bitter smile does nothing to assuage my concerns. "Refreshments will not be required, Darian. Send in Pedretti when he arrives."
He closes the door again.
Pedretti arrives moments later. I like Max Pedretti very much; he's one of those competent, calm types, very trustworthy and endlessly capable, much as I strive to be. I report to him, but he leaves me to my domain without comment most of the time. "Did I hear Julian shouting on his way upstairs?" he asks.
"You might have, Mr. Pedretti. Don Castellani asked you to go on in."
"Any advice?" he asks, eyes twinkling as he pauses with his hand on the doorknob.
I open my mouth, pause and then say helplessly, "I'm afraid not."
The twinkle in his eyes dies a little, but he gives me a nod of thanks and goes inside. I return the long way round to the kitchen, unwilling to listen at doors any longer. Not when Raffi DeLuca is prowling around, anyway. But barely ten minutes later, I'm called back to the salon, where Max Pedretti looks very grim, Anna-Vittoria looks like a cat who has been offered a bowl of cream, and Sandro Castellani looks…troubled.
"Darian," he says, "Mr. Pedretti will be taking an extended leave of absence, starting about a week from now. In his absence, you will manage all staff on the estate. Guards will report to DeLuca as interim head of security. You will work in tandem with DeLuca to ensure Redwood continues operating as usual."
Sandro's dark eyes are expectant, waiting. I straighten my spine. "Of course, Don Castellani."
Don Castellani turns back to the other two. "Signora Esposito, I'll show you out myself. Pedretti—go and let DeLuca know, will you? I'll speak with him myself later."
After they take their leave, I begin tidying the salon on autopilot, thoughts spinning. Although I'm butler here at Redwood, Mr. Pedretti has always been thede factohead of house, since security is taken so seriously. I run things by him, rather than the other way around. But nowI'llhave final say over staff, schedules, housekeeping, and maintenance of the whole estate. It's an honor, but it's also a great responsibility.
And I'll have to work closely with Raffi DeLuca, as Sandro said. When I turn, alerted by some soft noise, I see the man himself: Raffi is leaning against the doorframe, watching me through half-lidded eyes. As our gazes meet, he drags his tongue along his bottom lip.
Is it deliberate? Or unconscious?
Either way, it's—it's—inappropriate, and?—
And it sets my pulse galloping in a very strange way. Why does this one irritating man have such an effect on me?
Raffi offers a nod of respect. He taps two fingers to his brow in a salute. "Congratulations on the promotion, D. Pedretti just let me know." He gives a slow smile. "I'm looking forward to our new partnership." The suggestive promise in his voice sends heat curling through me. Then he's gone, footsteps receding down the hall.
I pick up a discarded teacup and saucer. I have enough to worry about without Raffi DeLuca's childish games. I have no idea why he's so focused on pushingmybuttons in particular.
And then I smile to myself. At least while I'm in charge around the house, I canorderRaffi DeLuca to leave me alone.
CHAPTER 6
RAFFI
I glancearound the men gathered before me in the dim security room. For the last few weeks, they've been my team. My responsibility. I've enjoyed being head of security, and I think I did a pretty decent job at it—but Max Pedretti is coming back today, according to the Boss. I missed Pedretti's steady hand, but it's been good to spread my wings a little. So if my time at the top is over, I'll miss it.
In the meantime, I've still got shit to do.
"Report," I say, trying not to yawn. I won't miss the early morning starts, that's for sure. I don't sleep great at the best of times, and having an early alarm just makes me listen out for it all night.
Oz Santarelli steps forward first, scratching his neck and yawning as wide as he wants. "All quiet on the gate last night, Raf. Regular patrols had nothing unusual to report."
Mario Vecchi chimes in next. "Same in the house. That dinner with Gino Bernardi wrapped up around midnight. No incidents."
I listen as the rest of the team confirms an uneventful, routine night. No disturbances or causes for concern. "Let's hope things stay this quiet for Pedretti," I say.
I'm pretty sure they won't, not if Sandro Castellani's crazy idea gets up. Honestly, I'm glad Pedretti's back, because the Boss's notion to hold a parley between the Bernardi factions, right here at Redwood—inviting our greatest enemy right into the heart of the Family—is dumb as hell, only I can't be the one to say that to him.
Pretty sure Pedretti will. Although…Pedretti didn't have much luck convincing the Boss to nix Darian's hiring. All I heard back from Pedretti was a clipped, "Julian wants him and Sandro is amenable."
Amenable. There was a whole lot of inference in that word that I'm pretty sure I missed.
But even if he can't convince Sandro to forget this parley, Pedretti will be the one who has to deal with all the shit that'll come along with it. Because, yeah. Maybe it's not so fun after all, running with the big dogs. Lotta compromises and a whole lotta bullshit.
