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“I don’t want your word,” I snarl. “I want your respect. I want—“ It hits me then. What I really want from him. “I want yourtrust, Sandro. But I see now you never intend to let me earn it, no matter how much I grovel.”
“Boss?” Pedretti asks. He moved over to stand in the doorway while Sandro and I were talking, and one look at him tells me he doesn’t plan to move unless he’s given the order.
“I like you, Pedretti,” I tell him. “And I don’t want to kill you. But if I have to, I will.” I glance back at Sandro so he knows I mean it.
There’s a long pause. “Let him go,” Sandro orders at last.
I push past Pedretti, make it to the front doors, and consider my options.
I’m barefoot, dressed in pajamas and a bright blue silk robe, and when I get outside, the door guards all stare at me in surprise. But I back away from them and run—not down the drive, but across the lawns, to one of the areas I know I can climb up and over the huge walls that bind the estate.
After that? Who knows.
But I refuse to be caged up like an animal over something I didn’t do.
CHAPTER46
JULIAN
Thirty-six hours later,in the evening dark, I stand in front of Leo’s apartment door, my heart pounding uncomfortably.
The last day and night have been difficult, although I managed to get a little sleep under some bushes in a park. But it was cold, and while my hangover is long gone, my desperation is mounting.
I’m not used to being the prey. But the thought of not only the Castellanis, but the Espositos after me as well...
Well, even the most stoic of assassins might face a little flutter of nerves.
Leo’s door is old and battered, a stark contrast to the grand entrance of Redwood Manor, and I’ve been staring at it for a long time. He obviously has no cameras, no security of any kind. I’m almost annoyed at him. What if I was here to kill him instead of beg for help?
I can’t stand here staring at a door all night. Sooner or later, I need to decide: am I going to trust the man who is supposed to be my mortal enemy, or not?
Trust the man who told me—straight out—that he would side with his Family against me?
But I have nowhere else to go. I knock three times, hard. “Leo,” I say, leaning my forehead against the door. “Leo, it’s me.”
There’s silence at first. Maybe he’s not even home. Maybe he’s joined the hunt for me, and this was my stupidest idea ever.
But I hear footsteps approaching, then stop. The door cracks open, and the tiny mole flies up with his eyebrows as Leo takes me in.
“Julian?”
“Come on, let me in,” I plead. I feel exposed out in the open.
He opens the door wide, yanking me in. I stumble into the small, cluttered space that serves as his living room, kitchen and dining room. I take a deep breath, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent.
“Are you okay?” Leo asks, his eyes scanning my body. He turns me around and pats over me—but he’s not looking for weapons. In fact, those, he ignores.
He’s looking for injuries.
“Julian?” He glances up at my face as his hands move over my body. “You okay?”
That gruff voice. I’ve missed him so much.
“I’m not hurt. Not…physically,” I reply, my voice quivering. “But inside…”
Leo leads me over to the cramped sofa, and sits down with me, our eyes locked. I’ve missed this connection so much, this unspoken understanding that exists only between Leo and me.
“Are you sure you’re not hurt?” Leo asks again, his voice soft. He reaches out, his hand landing on my shoulder, sliding up to cup my neck, card into my hair.
