CHAPTER 13
RAFFI
I've been walkingthe hallways all day, scanning for any potential security breach. And despite my best efforts, my thoughts keep drifting toward Darian. This morning's encounter with Chops Lollo and the breakfast tray replays on loop in my head, that playful look in his eyes that knocked me off-balance.
I pause in the foyer, leaning against the wall, thinking about his smile, the way he brushed against me on his way past. He seemed relaxed for once, the stress of the parley forgotten, even with Chops Lollo standing there acting like a damn fool.
I'd like to think I had something to do with Darian's more lighthearted attitude this morning.
I hope I did.
If only I could've seen him more today. But he's been kept busy and I have my own job, to make myself seen and heard, with the hopes of keeping tempers at a simmer instead of a boil. The east wing is clear,hasbeen clear the three times I've walked it, and it's not even my job to walk the floor these days, but the east wing is where AJ Bernardi's faction is staying, so I like to keep a close eye on it while all the higher-ups are gathered in theformal dining room for discussions. Besides, it's what Pedretti would do. He likes to stay hands-on. So I head up there again, heavy boots muffled by the thick carpet as I walk around. Here and there throughout the Manor, I come across little pockets of Bernardis from either faction, talking—whispering—but the big boys have been in meetings all day.
"All clear west wing," one of the guards radios in.
"All clear east wing," I reply.
I continue my rounds, but my mind stubbornly refuses to leave Darian's side. It's not just his face that draws me in, it's the way he handles himself around us Castellanis. He navigates our world so confidently, never missing a beat—and yet he's notpartof our world.
He's an innocent.
Overtaken by a deep, urgent need to see him, I find one of the house staff nearby, Elise, and ask her where Darian might be at the moment.
"Last I knew, he was in his break room, Mr. DeLuca."
"Thanks," I manage, trying to sound nonchalant, but the small smile she tries to hide suggests that maybe I'm more obvious than I thought.
But as I enter the kitchen again, I hesitate, not wanting to interrupt Darian's private space. Guy deserves time to himself, especially given the stress he's under. Still, my need to see him wins out, and I decide to at least check on him to make sure everything is okay.
Before I can knock on the door, however, I hear a sudden cry from within, unmistakably Darian's voice—followed right on top by another voice.
Russo.
Thatfucker.
I throw open the door and it bangs loudly against the wall. Donnie Russo has cornered Darian against the table, a predatory grin on his face before he turned his head, startled.
He has his hand around Darian's arm.
In two steps I'm over there, grabbing Russo by the collar and slamming him against the wall. "Get your filthy fucking hand off him before I rip it off!"
"I wasn't—I didn't—" Russo sputters.
My grip tightens on his shirt, and my fist pulls back involuntarily.
"Raffi,stop!" Darian rushes forward, grabbing my arm.
Russo shrinks against the wall. "I swear I never?—"
"Raffi," Darian pleads breathlessly. "The peace of the parley!"
Goddammit. Darian's right.
I release Russo and take a step back, but I move to the side when he does, blocking his exit. This asshole isn't leaving before he hears what I have to say. "You don't get to just slink off like nothing happened," I tell him. "I'll be reporting this to Don Castellani. You're just lucky Darian stopped me before I rearranged your face. But I see you near him again, you'll be shitting your own teeth for a week."
Russo goes red, his eyes darting between Darian and me. "You ain't got proof," he spits out. "It's my word against his."
"Yeah, andIknow who to believe." I take another step towards him. Russo backs away, fear all over his sweaty face. "Now get the fuck outta here before I change my mind about not breaking every bone in your body."
