I'm still struggling to process all the implications of the lockdown. We're prisoners, trapped together like rats in a cage—and there's no telling what reaction the Bernardi factions will have.
And goodness, Ms. Rochford is not going to like thisat all. She's in the middle of shooting a movie, as she kept reminding everyone through dinner last night. She doesn't have time in her schedule for a little thing like murder—I can just about hear her saying it.
"Are there any questions?" Sandro asks, looking around at us.
Silence reigns.
"Good," Sandro says. "Get to work."
CHAPTER 18
DARIAN
As the groupof us return to the foyer and begin to split up, I catch Raffi's eye. He nods, begins to pull me away—we need to talk about this, very badly—but an alert buzzes insistently on the electronic tablet I keep on me at all times.
Nero Andretti requires attendance.
The only thing I want to do right now is talk to Raffi, to make sense of all that's happening—the murder, the lockdown, his sudden and unexpected protection of me. But I have a job to do. I'm the only house staff member onsite.
I don't want to leave Raffi, though. The sight of Clemenza's body plays on a loop in my mind, as fresh as if I'm standing over him again.
But I have to go and service the charming and—I suspect—utterly vicious Nero Andretti.
"You aren't responding to that," Raffi snaps, grabbing the electronic tablet from my hand. Close by, Julian and Leo are having a whispered conversation, while Jack waits impatiently for Leo to finish. Julian glances my way and winks.
At least someone's enjoying themselves.
I take a deep breath, smoothing my features into the polite mask of a butler at work. Professionalism is my armor, and I'll cling to it now while everything else spins out of control. "I'm perfectly well, Mr. DeLuca," I say, and by some miracle, my voice is steady. "Mr. Andretti requires attendance, and I am the only house staff member here this early." And, I suppose, will be the only staff member present today. Don Castellani is determined to preserve things as they are until the murderer is caught.
"Then I'm coming with you," Raffi says with finality.
The sense of relief makes me almost lightheaded. "Alright. But you should stay outside the guesthouse while I go in. I don't want Mr. Andretti to feel crowded."
"Fuck Mr. Andretti," Raffi mutters under his breath, but with a sigh, he agrees to my terms. "First I need to order a search of the grounds and make sure all the phones are collected up. Then we'll go."
I hand my own phone over now when Raffi asks for it, even though I'd rather not. And despite Raffi's comforting presence as we make our way to the northern guest house, worry knots in my gut.
I motion Raffi back before I knock sharply on the door of the guesthouse. "Mr. Andretti, it's Darian. How may I assist you this morning?"
I'm pleased when my voice emerges cool and crisp, showing no trace of the turmoil within. As the doors swing open, I meet Nero's eyes and keep my expression polite, friendly. He lounges in the doorway clad only in silk pajama pants, his tannedchest bare, tattoos on full display. Snakes and eagles and—anddaggers…
"Buongiorno!" he says. "Please come in, Darian, I've been waiting for you."
I follow him into the guesthouse but I leave the door wide open, just in case. "My apologies for the delay, Mr. Andretti. What is it that you need?"
"Tell me—what's all this activity outside? This place has been quiet as a tomb, and suddenly—shouting, guards searching the grounds, running around. Has something gone wrong with the parley?"
"I'm afraid I can't discuss the parley. However, since I think you will find out shortly…" I take a breath. "We are in lockdown, Mr. Andretti. There was a death in the Manor last night."
"Really?" Nero arches a brow, looking more curious than concerned. "Who died?"
"Mr. Tony Clemenza passed away overnight, I'm sorry to report."
"Clemenza, eh? Well, I suppose these things happen. He was old, after all. Though a lockdown suggests it was not natural causes?"
"No, sir. It was not." My suspicions tighten into a hard, cold knot under my breastbone.
Nero's next words don't help. "So, with the old Clemenza out of the picture, will this parley do any good, do you think?"
