AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I’m serious,” she warns. “If Sandro finds out I’m here, it will only make things difficult—for both of us.”
“You really are worried about it. Perhaps next time you should be a little more discreet. Trust is such a fragile thing.”
“Julian.”
Ugh, she sounds exactly like Sandro. “Fine,” I relent, crossing my arms over my chest. “I won’t tell Sandro you’re in Los Angeles.”
“Good,” she says with finality. “Now please—leave.”
I head to the glass door and look outside. “A moment,” I murmur. “They really are very predictable in their routines,signora.”
Her eyes flash. Those poor bastards will get it when I’m gone—but if they’d done their jobs a little better, they would have nothing to worry about.
“By the way,” I tell her as I wait for the guards to move, “I want you to know that Sandro and I have grown closer recently.”
My words are laced with an undertone of provocation, and I can’t help but enjoy the subtle flicker of irritation that crosses her face. She raises an eyebrow, her lips pursed in an attempt to maintain her composure.
“That seems unlikely.”
“Very unlikely indeed,” I continue, pushing all those tempting buttons further, “but there it is. In fact, we’ve been working together quite well. Our bond has only grown stronger since our father’s death. I’m an orphan now, so perhaps he feels a little sorry for me.” I smile. “Or perhaps he thinks he’ll be one himself soon enough.”
La Contessa might remain expressionless, but that stony face is easy enough to read. “Careful,bastardo,” she says at last. “Remember who you’re dealing with.”
“Of course,” I reply pleasantly. “How could I ever forget you,signora? You’ve made a lifetime of memories for me already.”
And with that, I slip out onto the balcony and over the side, making my way down a few more balconies until I judge I’m far enough away from La Contessa and her guards.
What an interesting night it’s been.
And yet by the time I get back to the ground, my mind has returned to quite a different conundrum.
Leo Bernardi.
CHAPTER22
JULIAN
I endup calling Jack to get a ride back to Redwood Manor. He’s not happy that I called him in the middle of the night and pulled him from Miller Beaumont’s bed, but he comes and gets me all the same. Sandro’s instruction that he keep an eye on me has come in handy tonight, at least.
“I do like your car,” I say, pushing the seat right back and putting my feet up on the dashboard of his old Pinto.
He pushes my feet off. “Then show a little respect.”
“La Contessa is in town. Did you know?”
He does a double take. “I did not.”
“Does Sandro?” Jack says nothing, looking straight ahead. “Well,” I sigh, “please make sure you tell him the information came frommewhen you raise it. I need a few gold stars from him.”
I watch the different parts of Los Angeles go by as we drive slowly from the port back up to the obscenely wealthy part of the city where Redwood Manor is situated. We pass through neighborhoods with broken sidewalks and streets filled with garbage, and then suddenly we’re in districts with perfectly trimmed lawns and manicured trees. The cars become more expensive, the houses bigger.
And bigger. And bigger.
And then there are no houses at all to see, but simply large gates or privacy hedges.
“So? How’s it going with the Lion?” Jack asks, breaking me out of my reverie.
“He’s got a coke-can dick and he likes to please. How do you think it’s going?” Jack’s jaw tightens, and I sigh. “You used to be more fun, Jack.”
