"I'm not privy to such sensitive Family matters."
"No, I suppose you're not." Nero gives a shark-like smile. "Well, thank you for the news, Darian. I'll send for breakfast shortly."
Breakfast. Oh, God. With no Chef Laurent, no house staff...
My anxieties are ramping up.
"What's the matter, Darian?" Nero asks, watching me closely. He's almost smiling. "You seem…tense."
"Not at all, sir," I stammer. "But if you don't mind, I need to return to my duties. Is there anything else you require?"
"Nothing for now. You may go."
I give a short bow and make my exit, Raffi falling into silent step beside me as I exit and close the door. I never thought I'd be so grateful for Raffi DeLuca on my heels at every move. The last few days have certainly changed my perspective on him.
"What did he want?" Raffi asks.
"He…" I trail off, as I think that over. Whatdidhe want? Breakfast?
Or information?
"Darian?" Raffi prompts softly, but I shake my head.
"I don't know. He asked what was going on, and then he asked for breakfast."
"We need to talk."
"Yes. But—not yet," I murmur back. "Please. Later. Oh, God, I have so much to do, so much to think about, I'm the only staff member here, no kitchen hands?—"
He grabs my hand and turns me to face him. "Okay," he says. "You keep your mind on work now, if that's what you need. Butlater, we need to talk." He stares into my eyes, willing me to understand his silent message.
I understand it all too well. "Yes. Later."
"And you don't need to worry about breakfast yet. The Boss'll want to…get the message out." Raffi looks as grim as I feel about that idea.
What reaction is this announcement going to provoke from the Bernardi factions?
The parley-goers have been called down to the grand salon, milling about in agitation, their angry, tired mutters filling the enormous room. They don't know about the murder yet, but they will, any second now…
Coffee. They'll need coffee, tea, refreshments...
"Hey." Chops Lollo grabs my arm as I pass him, and immediately Raffi slaps it away.
"Mr. Lollo, how can I help you?" I ask loudly, before something else can start.
"What's going on here?" he demands. "Ms. Rochford needs her sleep. She's a busy lady, but she got pulled down here with all these losers." He thumbs over his shoulder, and I follow his gesture to see Roxy Rochford curled up on achaise longueat the side of the room, seemingly asleep in a pale gold negligee androbe de chambre. She has a matching silk sleeping mask pulled down over her eyes.
"Don Castellani will make an announcement shortly," I say, my voice wavering only slightly. I back away, but then—with a shock—I see Donnie Russo across the room, muttering with AJ Bernardi.
"What thefuck?" Raffi seethes under his breath.
"Don Castellani called for everyone," I remind him quickly. "We—we should have expected him to be here, too."
"No, AJ shoulda known better than to bring that asshole down with him," he growls, still glaring at Russo. "You don't go an inch away from me, D. You understand?"
I head to the kitchen with Raffi at my heels again, glowering at anyone who looks my way. Coffee and tea urns stand ready where Chef left them last night in preparation for the morning, but they'll take far too long to heat up. There's a special tap in the kitchen with boiling water, but in my nervous state, I fumble with it, scalding my hand. I let out a hiss of pain.
I'm completely out of my depth, here. A tiny fish surrounded by sharks with too many teeth and a hunger for blood.
