Sandro pushes off the wall and goes over to the still-open panel. He leans in for a long moment, and I know exactly what he's seeing. When he turns again, he's looking straight at me.
"DeLuca. A word?" His voice is casual. But his eyes are shards of stone.
Shit.
CHAPTER 29
RAFFI
I followSandro through the corridors of Redwood Manor, back to his study, and I know for sure—this is it.
This is when Sandro's going to saythanks for playing, DeLuca, but you've fucked up enough for one lifetime.Time to get Pedretti back with us.
And I'll be lucky to even stay up at the house. I'll get booted down to gate work, I bet. Or worse. Back out with a crew working collections or some shit.
When we finally reach his study, Sandro shuts the door behind us, and I swear I can feel the room getting colder. He goes straight to his desk, sits, and narrows his dark eyes at me.
"DeLuca," he begins, "I must first commend you on your efforts to maintain order during this parley. It's been a difficult situation for everyone."
"Thank you, Don Castellani." I'd be happier if I didn't know there was a "But" coming.
"But," he continues. There it is. "As you can imagine, I do have some concerns, particularly now that Chops Lollo has been murdered."
The lightness of his tone tells me everything I need to know. He's fucking furious. "Boss, I swear to God, I took every precaution—" I begin, but he cuts me off with a gesture.
"Perhaps," Sandro says, leaning forward on his desk and fixing me with an intense stare, "your personal relationship with another member of staff has been distracting you from your duties?"
My mouth falls open and I have to shut it fast before I say something I'll regret. Painfully. But how dare he question my professionalism?
Myloyalty?
"My feelings for Darian have no impact on my ability to protect this manor and its occupants," I manage to say.
"Is that so?" Sandro asks. "Because we have had not one but two murders over the past two days, which suggests to me that something, somewhere, is not working. And I am the one who will have to respond to the questions—the accusations—when they come."
Now I feel even worse. Sandro will take the heat for this, not me. And the one thing Pedretti told me before he left was to remember that my job was to make the higher-ups look good. Like they had everything under control.
But things arenotunder control.
"I'm sorry, Boss, I?—"
"I am not interested in apologies," Sandro says calmly. "I am interested in you doing your job. Leo called me in this morning, after you and Darian decided to play amateur sleuths with Julian. But did I not instruct you to focus on safety and security rather than investigation?"
"You…did."
I want to argue with him, to tell him just how wrong he is, but I've been asking myself the very same question he just put to me, ever since Darian and I started getting close: can I really separate my personal feelings from my professional duties? I've been putting Darian first, before everything else.
What does that mean for the safety of Redwood? For Sandro's reputation?
For my own?
I try again. "I understand your concern, Boss, but my feelings for Darian don't affect my duties as head of security. And frankly…"
"Frankly?" he prompts coolly.
"I gave you my advice, and you ignored it. Itoldyou to lift the lockdown?—"
"Be very careful, DeLuca," Sandro says softly.
