"Hey, hey, hang on a second—listen to me, I didn't kill anyone!" Russo interjects, desperation lacing his words. But as the room erupts in heated whispers, no one is paying attention to him.
No one, that is, except me. I search his face for any trace of guilt or cunning, but he seems completely terrified. And completely unaware.
I don't like the guy. At all. But I don't think he did this.
For the briefest moment, the room seems to stand still. The men in AJ's faction are seriously considering Gino's accusation. They seem ready to abandon their leader and pledge allegianceto Gino instead. And AJ must be able to sense it too, because he charges toward Russo, incensed, and a second later…
A dull snap of bone cracks through the muttering conversations, leaving everyone silent as Russo's lifeless body collapses to the floor.
"It's done!" AJ fixes his cold gaze on his brother Gino. "There you have it, little brother. We're even. My man for yours." He turns to Sandro with a triumphant sneer. "Now this charade of a parley can continue."
Sandro watches the scene unfold with an unreadable expression. He doesn't seem surprised by the brutal display. "As far as I'm concerned," he announces, "Russo was the killer of both Chops Lollo and Tony Clemenza. I'll be sending word to New York to clear any doubts and avoid retribution from the New York Commission or any other Families."
A dark uncertainty starts to roil in my gut. Too convenient. Way too fucking convenient.
Someone, somewhere, is happy about the way this has ended.
Sandro must see that, right? But he just moves on. "Gino Bernardi, are you prepared to accept an eye for an eye, and continue the parley?"
Gino seems uncertain, even glancing at Roxy before he responds. "Vengeance has been served," he grudgingly admits. "I'll come back to the negotiating table."
"Bene." Sandro nods, satisfied. "Gino and AJ will return to the meeting room with me now, and we will find an acceptable new mediator. But I will also say this: the lockdown at Redwood will persist until the Bernardi factions reach an agreement, sincetrust has been broken. It is therefore in your best interests to resolve this as soon as possible."
There's not much else they can say, so it's nods all round. Then the Bernardis vacate the room, and I'm left with Russo's broken body sprawled across the floor.
Third body in two days. Max Pedretti is gonna wonder what in the hell I've been doing during his time away.
With a sigh, I gesture to a pair of security guards nearby. "Clean this up, eh? Store it with the other two."
What a fucking day.
The Boss's suggestion is Sonny Vegas from Sin City, it turns out, and Sonny's agreed to come. He's probably the only one with the balls to do it on this side of the country, given that the last guy ended up with a knife in his heart, and he has some kind of love-hate relationship going with the New York Commission that means our allies there won't mind. But hosting Sonny Vegas at Redwood has all its own issues, like letting Johnny Jacopo know about it so he can make himself scarce. Some bad blood there, still. And until Sonny arrives this afternoon on a chartered flight, the Bernardis will be confined to their respective wings of the house again, in case they get a little too excited after Russo's execution.
God forbid any more of them figure out these damn secret passages, I think, as I head for Darian's suite. I have guards at every entrance or exit,andat every passage that Julian showed us, and that's the best I can do for now.
Meanwhile, I need to see Darian. Need to make sure he's okay.
Need to be in him again.
I give Santarelli a quick rundown on the third murder when I arrive at Darian's door, and then send him away. The door swings open with a soft creak when I call out to Darian, and he throws his arms around me at once.
"Raffi," he says into my neck. "What happened?"
"Later," I tell him, wrapping my arms around him tighter. "Please—later."
"Are you okay?"
I pull him back to look into his face. "Right now, with you, yeah. I am." Enough talking. I sink my mouth onto his and groan as his body responds, melting against me as I kiss him breathless.
"Raffi," Darian gasps between kisses, "Wait."
"Wait?" I pull back, take in his expression. "Hey, what's wrong?"
He takes a shaky breath. "Raffi…there's something I need to tell you."
CHAPTER 32
RAFFI
