Page 13 of His Wicked Wants (West Coast Mobsters #6)

CHAPTER 12

NERO

Jack says almost nothing on the drive back to Redwood, but the ominous cloud hanging around him says everything it needs to. As for me, I sit back and enjoy the drive—as much as I can in a car like this. Jacopo is quite the mystery. La Contessa’s hitmen are silent creatures, but under normal circumstances, Jack is downright gregarious. Not tonight, of course. Tonight I’m seeing the other side of him. The darkness under the carefully constructed facade. I wonder if he has already advised Sandro to dispose of me. I would, if I was him.

Because if I was Underboss to Sandro Castellani, I’d assume his oldest friend would be after my job.

“You know how Sandro got his scar?” Jack asks, just after we pass through the gates.

“I do not. Would you care to enlighten me?”

“Long story short, he got it from a bunch of Bernardis at the Chateau de la Lune.” He pulls up in front of the house and looks at me. “I’m not sure what the hell you thought you were doing tonight, Andretti, but you overplayed your hand. Get out.”

I get out with the same air of indifference I’ve kept up for the whole drive, but inside…I have concerns. I didn’t know there was history there. But the woman who put me up to these antics tonight—she of all people must have known, or at least heard rumors.

Jack is silent once more as we march through Redwood Manor to Sandro’s study. Gathered in there is a conclave of interesting people—except for one. Gino Bernardi is possibly the least interesting man I have ever met. But he must be here as a figurehead if nothing else, because beside him is his fiancée, Roxanne Rochford. Max Pedretti and Raffi DeLuca are at the side of the room.

Sandro sits behind his desk with hooded eyes, merely motioning for me to sit when I enter the room shepherded by Jack. “You have been causing trouble at the Chateau de la Lune.”

“Just a good, honest bar fight, Don Castellani. Don’t tell me this room full of power has gathered for little old me,” I say with as apologetic a tone as I can muster.

“The Chateau is Bernardi territory,” Sandro goes on. “And not the nice kind of Bernardis.”

It’s the same phrasing that Ray Ventura used earlier tonight. Must be a shorthand used among the Castellanis. I glance at Gino Bernardi, who straightens his spine and gives a nod back. “But why should it not belong to the nice kind of Bernardis?” I ask.

Sandro looks me over carefully. “What do you mean?”

“In my conversations yesterday with Ms. Rochford, she lamented the fact that Chateau de la Lune is no longer a place she can go in safety, despite it being a central hub for her profession.” I look at her. “Isn’t that so?”

Roxy’s lashes flutter, as though she’s startled to be included in the conversation. “Well, yes, that’s true,” she says, with a faint, tinkling laugh. “I did mention to Mr. Andretti yesterday that I’ve been frustrated of late, since I can’t attend the Chateau. It’s still a place where many actors, producers, and directors like to gather. I do feel my career is being hampered, but of course I never meant...” She shakes her head, giving me a severe look.

“Of course she never meant,” I admit, turning back to Sandro and spreading my hands. “But I saw an opportunity, a way to strengthen our allies. I took it.”

There is nothing but silence in the room after I speak. Sandro at last says, “Are you suggesting we should…thank you?”

“Of course not. The truth is, I never meant to get into a fight. I just wanted to check it out, see how dangerous it really was, and report back to you, Sandro. Information is power, after all.”

Sandro looks to Gino Bernardi, who hasn’t said a word. “He makes a compelling point,” Sandro says, completely neutral. “Perhaps it would be better if you could reclaim the Chateau for your own faction, Gino. And Nero, for good or ill, has struck the first blow in the first battle.”

Gino glances at his fiancée. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “I mean, I don’t want Roxy to be disadvantaged. I didn’t realize it was such a problem for her.”

Roxy flutters those thick lashes once more and touches his arm with her left hand, making her engagement ring sparkle in the light. “Oh, honey, you have so much to worry about right now, I didn’t want to bother you with my problems, too. But, honestly, it would be amazing if you could take back the Chateau. I’d get so many more offers—and, after all, it’s where we met, isn’t it?”

Gino grins at her. “Yeah, it is.” He turns back to Sandro. “You’re right. It’s time we took back the Chateau. Maybe we can talk…tactics?” he adds hesitantly.

“There will be time for that,” Sandro says coolly. “But you must excuse us now, Don Bernardi. We have private Family business to discuss as well, and I’m sure you will want to speak to your men first about your plans regarding the Chateau.”

On her way out, Roxy’s eyes slide to mine for just a moment, but I interpret the dip of her lashes as a thank you.

“Nero,” Sandro says, once the Bernardis have left, “while your little stunt worked out in the end, that is not the way we do business here in Los Angeles. You have made things very difficult for me.”

“I am desolation itself. I really did go just to check it out, Sandro. You know me, you know I follow orders. It was on the way to our route for the night, and it was my idea to stop in for dinner—the famous Chateau. I had no idea the place held such painful memories for?—”

“Enough. We have another issue we have to discuss. Pedretti?”

Max Pedretti comes forward, his eyes fixed on me. “Word is you spent time alone in the security room the other night. Care to explain why?”

“I wanted to know where one of the staff members was,” I tell him with a shrug. “I should have asked permission.”

“You wouldn’t have got it,” Pedretti says. “But I think you know that. Why were you so interested in where Gabriel Carstairs was?”

I knew this was coming. I probably should have prepared a better story. But cover stories are so boring, and it’s easier to remember the truth than a lie. “I thought he might be doing something nefarious. It turns out he was only doing another man.” I grin as I say it, but no one else smiles.

“From now on,” Sandro says, “you do only what you’re asked to do, Nero, and go only where you’re asked to go. Remember that you are still on probation. You are not required to follow or watch other staff or family members. You are not an enforcer here. You are merely an associate, hoping to become more. You forget your place—and you are trading on our old friendship.”

“My apologies,” I say, nodding my head. “Of course you’re right, Sandro. It’s difficult for me to hold back, to unlearn the habits of a lifetime. And when I think someone might be betraying my oldest friend, well, you can hardly blame me for wanting to follow up. But I know my place is still tenuous here. I’m willing to earn your trust.”

Sandro glances at Pedretti, DeLuca and Jacopo. “Anything else?” he asks them. Pedretti, I see, is shaking his head, and DeLuca shrugs. I can’t see Jack’s expression, because he’s still standing behind me. But Sandro gives him a nod. “Alright, then. Thank you, all. Nero, you will wait a moment.”

The others leave me alone with Sandro Castellani, at last, and the silence stretches out. Is he going to send me away? He damn well should. I have one last card to play, the one he named himself—and so I play the injured friend. “Are you sure you’re safe with me, Sandro?” I ask him in Italian. “You’ve made such an effort not to be caught alone with me since I arrived, it makes me wonder what you really think of me.”

“I already know the worst of you,” he replies—in English. “That doesn’t mean I’m worried about being alone with you. I’ve simply been busy. It may come as a surprise to you, but running a criminal empire demands an awful lot of work hours.”

I laugh. “Still,” I say chidingly, and I switch to English, since he insists. “I came here to Los Angeles not only because I was running for my life, you know—though you have certainly been very generous in granting me protection from your powerful Mamma. But I also came because I miss you, old friend. It’s been a long time since you were in Italy—a long time since I’ve enjoyed your company.”

“There is much we have to catch up on,” he says after a moment. And then he smiles that crooked smile he has these days, due to the scar. “I’ve missed you, too. Come to dinner tomorrow night, Nero. I’d like you to get to know Teddy, and he’s curious about you, too—my oldest friend. Besides, I want you to see me away from this place.” He makes a dismissive gesture with his hand, a flick of the fingers that reminds me so much of his mother for a moment that I blink. “I am one man here, but another in my own home. I’d like you to know the man I’ve become, but you can’t do that here.”

I understand his meaning. Here, he is Don Castellani. He plays a role and must play it without emotion, without mercy.

“I would be honored to have dinner with you and your innamorato .”

“Excellent. Let’s say tomorrow night at eight. I’ll have someone drive you over.”

He won’t give me the address. So whatever this dinner is, it’s not completely about trust. “I look forward to it.”

He gives me a nod, and I stand, dismissed. But I turn back at the door as he calls my name.

“Oh, and Nero? Please don’t fuck my staff.” He gives me a wry look. “It has been a while since we’ve seen each other, but I still remember your type. Unfortunately for Gabriel Carstairs, he fits it completely.”

“What on earth do you mean?” I ask him, with a look of mock innocence.

“No need to worry Pedretti unnecessarily again,” he tells me. “And really, I would prefer if you could—well.”

“Keep it in my pants?” I laugh at his expression. “Alright, Sandro, if it’s so important to you.”

“It’s not just the awkwardness. Gabriel Carstairs is one of my brother’s hires, and…” He shrugs eloquently. “I don’t like to give Julian excuses to hate me any more than he already does.”

“I will put the little gardener out of my mind.” But as I walk back to the main door, dogged at the heels by Raffi DeLuca, I think over the information Sandro has given me tonight. So his brother hates him, and Sandro does not trust Julian—or any of the men that his brother has hired here at Redwood? But he is the Don. He could remove these men immediately if he really wanted to. And then there’s Legs Liggari. What possible use could he have?

Sandro learned strategy from his mother, and she was always a genius at it. There must be some reason he doesn’t just remove all these people—not to mention his brother.

But, as always, it is not for me to draw conclusions. I simply gather the information and carry out my orders.

I return to my guesthouse and compose a new report for La Contessa. It takes a while, due to the intricate code we use, but it’s necessary. I know the Castellanis could intercept my messages at any time. Hell, I doubt Sandro is fooled at all by my act.

But he’s content to keep me here—for now. Just as La Contessa is content to keep me here for now, too. When I return to Italy, she will reward me beyond measure. Name me her successor in the east, dividing up her empire between me, her son by vows, and Sandro, her son by birth.

He’ll get the safe parts, and that’s fine by me. I prefer to live a dangerous life and, having seen the soft underbelly of Sandro Castellani on full display here in Los Angeles, I think his mother was wise to send me to test him. To shore up his power. To draft his allies.

He would never survive back home.

In my report, I provide all of the intel I have gathered, report on the loyalty felt toward Sandro among the lower-level men, and request any information on one Gabriel Carstairs, since I’m still not convinced by him—and I’ll have no chance of getting another look at his file in security. But one way or another, I’m determined to find out all about him. At the end, I add:

Initiated clearance of Bernardi territory as requested by La Bellissima. Will advise if she requests anything further.

I painstakingly tap out the message in code and then connect to the private server that I use for all communication to La Contessa. I send it off and receive a return message very quickly, short enough that I can read it even without the code key.

Well done .

I feel the same glow I always felt at her rare praise. And I know that what I’m doing here really is worth it, in the end. I am a silent conduit between mother and son, a vital part in these games they play, each pretending the other is not aware.

Without me, they would have nothing.

Still…Sandro really is my oldest friend. It doesn’t always sit well, playing the double agent. It’s a difficult position to be in. But I know where my loyalties lie.