Why did I ever think this was a good career move?
"D, you alright?"
I open my mouth to insist I'm fine, but I can't lie anymore today. "Just a little scald. It will be alright."
"Let me see." Raffi takes my hands in his, examining the reddened skin with a surprising delicacy. "Let's run it under water. Come on."
He holds my hand under the water for what seems like a long time, but his calm, practical manner helps me tamp down some of the fear.
It will do no good to panic, after all.
"Thank you," I say after a while. "I should get on with preparations. Hearing the news without ready access to caffeine probably won't help matters much." It's supposed to be a joke, but it comes out straight.
Raffi just nods. "I'll help."
Together, we move the filled urns to a wheeled trolley, and then Raffi escorts me back to the grand salon.
The show must go on.
As I set up the beverage station to the side of the room, a hush falls over the gathered guests. Sandro Castellani has appeared in the doorway. He takes a few paces in and then closes the doors behind him. Around the room, I see Raffi has stationed house guards at each door.
And they're all armed. Heavily armed.
"Tony Clemenza has been murdered," Sandro says without preamble. A collective reaction of shock echoes through the room. "I have instituted a lockdown. It will remain in effect until the killer is found. No one enters or leaves the estate until then."
Questions rise up at once, Sandro answering what he can—which is not much—and I busy myself handing out coffee, until one particular question makes me freeze.
"Who found him?" AJ Bernardi demands.
Sandro hesitates for a moment, but then admits, "Our butler, Darian, found the body." The accusing glares are immediate. Sandro raises a hand to regain attention. "As I said, we are on lockdown until we determine who killed the man, and why. Everyone will remain here in the house, under guard, until further notice. I have asked Johnny Jacopo and Leo Bernardi to look into the matter."
There's a disgruntled mutter from AJ's faction at the mention of Leo's name. My hands tremble slightly as I pour coffee into the next cup, but then a derisive laugh rises above the chatter.
"I bet I know who did it. That simpering little servant, that's who!"
Donnie Russo. Of course it's Donnie Russo. I should have expected it, just like I should have expected him being here in the room.
But I can't say anything, can't move, my hands clenched around the saucer and I stare into the inky black depths of the coffee I've just poured as silence falls again.
"He's been slinking around everywhere!" Donnie continues, voice rising with each word. "And Tony had problems with him yesterday, we all saw!"
The cup tips off the saucer, though thankfully it doesn't shatter against the thick carpet. Coffee splashes everywhere, though, and I can only stare at the mess I've made, too afraid to look up at all those accusing eyes.
Raffi is at my side in an instant, standing as a shield between me and the rest of the room. "That's bullshit," he growls, hand falling to the gun at his hip.
"Enough," Sandro says, cutting through the whispers. "AJ, why is this man here?"
"Your guys said they wantedeveryonedown here," AJ tells him. "And Donnie makes a point. This butler guy, he has access everywhere."
Impatiently, Sandro snaps, "Darian has been nothing but loyal and dedicated in his service to this Family, and I do not suspect him of having anything to do with this. And let me add this…" Sandro stares around the room. "Darian is under my protection, and the protection of all Castellanis. Anyone who dares to lay a hand on him will answer to me personally—parley or no parley."
He's looking at Donnie Russo when he says it. AJ's faction scowls and mutters darkly among themselves. In contrast, Gino's men seem less interested in me, more focused on their enemies. Maybe they think someone from AJ's side is responsible for the murder.
As long as I'm not in the crossfire, I don't care.
"Have I made myself understood?" Sandro asks calmly.
A chorus of grudging assent fills the air and I stoop to pat at the stain in the carpet with a cloth, my hands shaking.
