I just nodded. Part of me will be glad when I can hand over the reins to Pedretti again. But the other part dreads it, because I know that without all the day-to-day bullshit from security to occupy my mind, it's going to get stuck on one thing and one thing only.
And when I push open the doors to the grand salon, it's like my thoughts have come to life. Darian stands by the liquor cabinet, his back to me, polishing a crystal decanter.
For a moment I think about backing out quickly, but that would make me a coward. So instead, I clear my throat. "Good morning, Darian."
Darian turns slowly, shoulders instantly up around his ears with tension. "Good morning, Mr. DeLuca." His voice is just as stiff and formal as mine.
I shift my weight. We've been real damn good at avoiding being alone with each other at work until now, and the first one-on-one encounter is just as awkward as I figured it would be. "I'll let you get on with…stuff."
Darian gives a stiff nod. I turn on my heel and walk away as fast as I can without breaking into a run.
That conversation—if you can call it that—only reminded me of how simple our relationshipusedto be before the murders. I wish we could go back to those days, when teasing Darian and getting a blush out of him was the highlight of my day.
Seeing him now always stirs up a storm in me—anger, longing, regret…
And a bone-deep ache for Darian that threatens to consume me whole. We had something pure. Just a few perfect nights and days together…
But that's over now.
I burst through the front doors of Redwood Manor into the morning sunshine. Fresh air will clear my damn head, get rid ofthose memories. I need to focus. Do my job. Besides, today's the day?—
And there he is.
I hear him before I see him, the car coming up the driveway, and the guards gather around me as well, grinning. When the car pulls up, I step forward to open the door for him myself, relieved but torn.
When Max Pedretti steps out, I'm the first one he grabs into a hug.
"DeLuca! Long time no see, huh?" he says with a laugh, slapping me hard on the back. "Didn't mean for you all to come out and give me a grand welcome like this."
"I sent the marching band away. Thought it might be a bit much." We all laugh, and then the other guards greet him as I take a step back. Soon enough, Pedretti turns back to me and motions me to walk with him for a private conversation.
"God, it's good to have you back," I admit, as we walk a little way from the house guards.
"Listen, DeLuca," Pedretti says softly, his expression turning serious. "The Boss told me about how you stepped up while I was away. You did a hell of a job, and I feel bad about kicking you out of the top spot now that I'm back."
Despite my mood, the praise feels good. Even if I think it's unearned. "Three deaths under this roof while you were away? I don't think I did all that great, Pedretti."
"You had a whole storm of bullshit to handle," he says bluntly, "and you did a damn good job. That's why I want to talk toyou about a permanent promotion. How would you feel about leading security at Julian and Leo's house?"
I suck in a breath. Taking the promotion and working full time down at what Julian is calling "the Retreat" would mean less time at Redwood Manor.
And less likelihood of running into Darian. Neither of us will have to feel like shit anymore.
"That sounds like a great opportunity," I tell Pedretti. "But, sir—I'd like to talk to you about the parley, first."
He takes in my expression, and I feel bad that he's come back to work only to have me dump a problem in his lap. But he takes it in stride. "Let's do that now," he says. "I want to know everything. I read what you sent through last night, but I want it from your own lips, too."
Apart from Darian, the events of the parley are always on my mind. I fall into step beside Pedretti as we head up into the house, and I push away thoughts of Darian. Push away my regrets. It's time to cut ties with the past and look toward the future.
A future without Darian Thornfield-Hayes.
We go to the security room, where, after another joyful reunion with the guards in there, Pedretti kicks them out and settles into the desk chair. "Ah, it's good to be back," he sighs, looking around the monitors with a smile. He sits down and says, "Okay. Talk."
I sit down opposite him. "You want me to just…" I shrug. "Talk?"
"I want you to tell me how it all went down from your point of view."
I don't even know where to start. And then there are the things I need to leave out, things I already made my choice about. "I made sure our security measures were tight the whole time. I stationed men at all key points, checked and double-checked the perimeter daily, kept constant communication with everyone." I pause for a moment, swallowing hard as I recall the chaos that ensued. "But it turned into a shitshow pretty fast. I spent most of my time breaking up arguments and staring down anyone who looked like they might make trouble. The Bernardis were at each other's throats from the second they got here. Russo was making a goddamn nuisance of himself. But from everything I heard, Tony Clemenza was making inroads—until he wasn't."
