"I knew he would."
Raffi stares at me. "Youknewabout the recordings?"
"No." God, I'm just making things worse. "No, I meant…I called Julian up to the house as soon as Don Castellani arrived. That's why he and Leo arrived so quickly. But I didn't know about the recordings. I just knew that Julian would want to keep me, one way or another. And, well…he did."
"Listen," Raffi says, brows pulling together now, "when you need someone to step in for you, that'smyjob."
"I just wanted to show you I've changed." It rushes out of me.
"But Darian—" Raffi begins, but the door bursts open before he can get any further.
Max Pedretti strides into the room, looking irritable. "There you two are. What the hell is going on around here? Sandro's stomping around like he's looking for someone to shout at. Andhe's just asked me to personally look into Darian's background again. Didn't Jack already do that when Julian hired Darian?"
"There's nothing to look into," Raffi says firmly. "Darian's loyalty is absolute."
"Well," Max says drily, "if you'd like to go tell Don Castellani it's unnecessary, DeLuca, be my guest. But before you do that, tell me what the hell happened before I arrived this morning to make all this necessary?"
"I should go," I say weakly.
"Darian, wait—" Raffi starts, but I don't stay to hear what else he has to say, hurrying past Pedretti and away from the security room.
I meant to take Raffi's burden from him, but I've only made it heavier.
I go about my duties for the day, but they are minimal. Leo and Julian have fully moved into the Retreat now, and there are no functions tonight at Redwood. Nero Andretti has not requested dinner service and seems to be out on the town. Sandro Castellani left soon after our meeting, so once I've set up for tomorrow, there's not much more to do this evening. My mind drifts back to Raffi, as it has all day. I haven't seen him since I ran out of the security room, and I've been wondering how to explain it to him properly, so that he'll understand.
The thought of us falling back into that horrible, silent distance is terrifying to me.
I thought I was protecting him, but he saw it as a betrayal. And Julian was right; Raffi is an honorable man. He won't want to be with someone like me, not when he's been reminded about what I'mreallylike. After all, I lied to Don Castellani's face right in front of Raffi.
I really messed that one up.
But even if it's hopeless, I still want to explain myself, to apologize again. I want totryto make this right between us. Raffi has come to mean more to me than I ever dreamed possible. The thought of losing him once more, after everything we've been through—of watching those warm brown eyes turn cold again…
I hurry upstairs, hoping to catch Raffi in the security room before he leaves for the day. As I come up the stairs, Simmy comes around the corner, spinning his keyring around one meaty finger.
"Mr. Simonetto, have you seen Mr. DeLuca?" I ask.
He shakes his head, bushy beard swaying. "Nah, Raf punched out an hour ago. Long day, you know?"
My heart sinks. If Raffi left already, I've missed my chance to speak with him until tomorrow. I could call or text, but…
But this is a conversation to have face to face.
"Thank you," I say, turning away before Simmy can see the disappointment on my face. I feel suddenly weary, too tired to do anything but go back to my room for now and lie down.
I trudge back to my room, cursing myself. But when I turn the corner to my suite, the first thing I see is Raffi standing there, waiting for me.
He looks up and smiles. "I didn't want to wait in your place uninvited," he says. "But I didn't want to miss you, either."
"Mr. Simonetto said you'd already left for the day!"
Raffi comes over to me, pulling me into his arms. "Yeah, I clocked out, but I hung around so I could have a talk with you." He settles his hands on my waist, his touch warm and solid. I breathe him in.
"I'm so glad you stayed. I was worried that…" I break off, not willing to jinx it. "W-we should talk about what happened this morning with Don Castellani."
Raffi sighs and nudges me toward the door. I open up the suite and we sit in the living room, on the couch together, his nearness already easing some of the day's tension.
"We do need to talk. But first, I gotta say—there's no way I'm letting this thing between us turn into some no-talking mess again. We tried that already. Didn't work so hot." He rubs the back of his neck. "And I didn't get a chance to say this to you this morning before you bolted: Iknowyou what you were trying to do this morning. But we're a team, D. Remember what Julian called us? The dynamic duo. So we don't go off half-cocked doing stupid shit like 'fessing up to the Don, not without talking it over first. Promise me?"
