Page 2 of His Sinful Need

Leo turned his back on all that, and I admire his pragmatism, even though it puts the Castellanis in a difficult spot.

We’re in a difficult spot with the Espositos, too. And I’m proud to know the Boss feels like he can count on me to make things right.

“I want you to embed yourself into the Espositos as quickly as possible,” the Boss says now, like he hasn’t already said it a million times before, “and make yourself useful.”

“So they trust me,” I supply. I know this speech.

He gives his now-familiar smile, the one made crooked by the scar running down his face, but it’s still a genuine smile. “I know I’ve said all this before. I don’t like sacrificing you, Pedretti, so it makes me feel a little better to go over it and over it. Yes. So that they trust you. And of course, I also expect you to keep your eyes and ears open. Any information you bring back will be gratefully received. I know that you will be a great representative for the Family.”

“I appreciate your faith in me.” I give my own crooked smile. “But this mission—it isn’t just a way to get rid of me, is it?” I raise an eyebrow, so he knows I’m joking.

Mostly.

“Believe me,” he sighs heavily, “I would have preferred to send almost anyone else. But Anna-Vittoria asked for you specifically.”

I should probably feel flattered. And when she was here, Anna-Vittoria did her best to make itsoundflattering. All it does is make me worry that I’m building up a rep. In our world, men with reps are a target, not an asset, and I prefer to lay low. But I can’t let my worries compromise my work.

The stakes are too high.

“And remember,” Sandro goes on, “you have my support if you need it. Anything at all. Cash, weapons, tech, information—just let me know.”

“And just so I’m clear on it, Boss, still no idea why the lady wanted me specifically?”

Sandro shakes his head slowly. “All she would say is that she’s heard good things. You are talented. Practical. Loyal. Perhaps that’s what she’s seeking. Or perhaps she thinks you have information to share.” He holds up his hand at the sight of my face. “Of course I know you won’t. But she does not know you.” He hesitates, then goes on, “And Pedretti—if there’s any danger to you personally, you have my permission to use deadly force. But remember, everything you do reflects on the Castellani Family. Never forget who you are, or where your loyalties lie.”

“No question of that, Boss.”

With a final nod, Sandro ushers me out of his study walking behind me like a reluctant shadow. I pause at the grand salon, where melancholy music streams out the door, and poke my head in. Julian Castellani is in there, Sandro’s brother and resident assassin, and he’s playing the grand piano—but his eyes are on the doorway.

As soon as he sees me, the tune changes to a funeral march.

“Not dead yet,” I call over. He stops playing and heads my way, his usually cold expression uncharacteristically softer today. Julian was surprisingly upset at the idea I’d be leaving Redwood awhile. Was downright rude to Anna-Vittoria Esposito the day she turned up and asked for me as payment for the debt Sandro owed her, or so I heard from Leo. Julian’s rudeness tends toward aggression, so it’s lucky Leo was there to smooth troubled waters.

“Your car has arrived,” Julian announces now, unblinking gaze fixed on me. In the early days I found it unnerving, until I got used to it. Used to Julian. He’s not bad once you get to know him, so long as you keep him in eyesight when he’s in the same room. So that—like now, when he flings himself at me—you can be aware of the attack before it happens.

But this is no attack. His arms are tight around me and he squeezes me hard, like a child with a teddy bear. I stand there and let him hug me, awkwardly patting his back.

“Take care of yourself, Pedretti,” he murmurs. “Or I’ll have to do it for you.” He lets me go just before it gets uncomfortable to breathe.

“Don’t worry about me. You take care of your big brother, eh?” I offer a wry smile to the younger Castellani. “Make sure he doesn’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone. The way things are heating up with the Bernardis…”

“Oh, there won’t be any trouble,” Julian says, but there’s a gleam in his eye, and he smiles. “Leo says goodbye, too,” he adds. “And then he told me not to forget to tell you.”

“Give him my thanks. I better get moving.”

In the foyer, Darian Thornfield-Hayes and Raffi DeLuca stand there pretending to ignore each other. I don’t know what’s going on there, and it irks me a little that I won’t be able to keep watching the show. Some of the men have been laying bets. I didn’t approve.

Officially, at least.

Darian is a relative newcomer to Redwood, and he was Julian’s pick. A strange choice for the new butler, but Sandro left it up to Julian, and here we are. Pale, fair-haired, and unusually good-looking, Darian gives one of those quick little bows of his as I stop before him, heels clicking together. Always makes me feel like royalty or something, and I smile now just like I always do. He’s been good for Redwood, can handle Julian alright, too.

He just gets real weird around Raffi DeLuca.

“I’ll be seeing you,” I tell Darian.

“Safe travels, Mr. Pedretti.” I offer my hand, and after only a moment of hesitation, he shakes it.

When I turn to Raffi, he grabs my hand hard, pumping it up and down, brown eyes widening despite himself. “Hope I can do you proud, Pedretti.”

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